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oddinary4bts · 3 months

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When the End Comes | epilogue (jjk)

☆summary: when the weather seems to work against you and Jungkook for your wedding day, you decide to change plans last minute. In any other situation, it would have made you freak out - but how can you freak out, when you're getting married to the love of your life?

☆pairing: photographer!Jungkook x lawyer!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, there is mature content in every chapter)

☆genre: marriage!au, fluff, smut

☆warnings: cursing, mentions of pregnancy, alcohol, mentions of Jungkook's injury, mentions of breakups, Jungkook's scars, explicit content: wedding night sex, nipple play, a tie around OC's neck, jerking off, oral sex (male and female receiving), mouth fucking, fingering, dirty talking, squirting, ball fondling, shower sex, unprotected sex (they're married give them a break haha)

☆word count: 12.1k

☆series masterpost

☆a/n: Finally finished the epilogue for you guys! I hope you love it just as much as I loved writing it :') it's going to be hard to say goodbye to this couple, but I hope you love their ending <3 Thank you to @moonleeai for beta-ing this, you are the best <3 and thank you to @jessikahathaway for supporting me with this project, you are amazinnng

☆Read The Forgotten Spaces here, the prequel to When the End Comes! It does not need to be read to understand When the End Comes, but I think it still should be read first to have a better understanding of the characters in general!

☆☆☆☆☆

My heart is going onto you So be the heart that I'm choosing, heart that I'm choosing Someday, I'll fall into you That's where I'll be now when the end comes

When the End Comes, Andrew Belle

☆☆☆☆☆

Friday, July 6th

The rising sun turns your bedroom into liquid gold, slowly dragging you out of sleep. You bask in the gentle warmth, instinctively turning around to cuddle closer to Jungkook.

In his sleep, Jungkook wraps an arm around you, pulling you ever so closer until your head is pressed to his chest. His heartbeat sings in your ear and you listen to the melody, wishing it would make you fall back asleep.

Alas, your thoughts trot to tomorrow, and like a kid on Christmas morning, too excited to fall back asleep, sleep evades you. So you just enjoy Jungkook’s proximity, sighing softly as he brushes a kiss on the top of your head.

You smile against him, kissing the skin of his chest against which your face is pressed. Jungkook shifts a little bit, his breathing growing slightly uneven, the only indication that he’s waking up as well.

“Morning,” he whispers, voice gruff with sleep.

“Morning,” you echo, and you try to pull back to take a look at his face, but he holds you tighter.

You chuckle, and you snake an arm around his waist, gently caressing the skin of his back. The moment is peaceful, serene, the kind of moments you never want to step away from. They have been frequent, since you moved in with him in Seoul. Life with him has been perfect, like it was at the very beginning of your relationship. Now, no long distance can ever create a wedge between the two of you - every decision you make together, for the both of you.

You’ve been falling in love with him more every day.

“Let’s stay here until tomorrow,” Jungkook whispers, his hold on you momentarily tightening.

You peck his chest again. “I wish we could.”

He whines, a sound that vibrates in his ribcage, and this time you laugh. “Please?”

“You don’t want to get married anymore?” you ask, faking offense as you try to push away from him again.

He doesn’t let you go, though you fight against him for a little longer this time around.

“On the contrary,” he replies. “I kind of wish we’d get married faster.”

It’s a struggle, but you manage to raise your head to look at him. From this angle, all you can see is his sharp jawline and the mole on his neck.

“Why?”

“Because I love you?”

His words make your heart race in your chest, like they always do. Because no amount of declaration of love will ever be enough to stop the uprising of butterflies, to slow down the organ that beats for him.

That has been beating for him since a July night eight years ago. Still, when you were apart, it kept on beating for him, and you know that it will keep on beating for him until you draw your very last breath, at the end of the long road still ahead of the two of you.

“I love you too,” you whisper back.

“I know.”

A comfortable silence settles around the two of you again, and you believe you might be able to fall back asleep after all. Unfortunately for you, Bam heard the two of you, and his wagging tail bangs against the dresser as the dog walks over to Jungkook’s side of the bed, propping his front paws on the mattress so that he can reach for Jungkook.

Jungkook shrieks, sitting up, and you burst out laughing, rolling on your back as he lets go of you.

“He licked me,” Jungkook complains, his familiar pout on display.

You sit up, pressing a gentle kiss on his soft lips. “Maybe I should lick you too.”

His pout melts into a devilish smirk. “I’ve got ideas of where you could lick, mmh.”

You laugh as he tackles you, pushing you back down on the bed. Bam takes that as a cue to jump on the bed, and the next five minutes are spent in giggles and laughs and shrieks, a tangled mess of your own little family. When you all finally calm down, Jungkook slips out of bed with the dog in tow so that he can feed him, and you enjoy a few more minutes of peace before you follow them.

When you walk into the kitchen, Jungkook is busying himself with plating the soy eggs you’ve been eating for breakfast, and he offers you a grin over his shoulder. You think the grin would be enough to make you fly, and you smile in return as you walk over to him, loosely wrapping your arms around his dainty waist.

“Hungry?” he asks.

“Mmh.”

He laughs, gently patting your arm. “You’ll get your food soon enough, fear not.”

You hum again, pressing a kiss on his soft skin. His muscles flex as he moves, and you let go of him, heading to the table. Bam trots to you, and you pet the dog as Jungkook finishes with breakfast, carrying it to you. He sits next to you, pecking your cheek as he puts down a plate in front of you.

“Thank you,” you say, immediately diving into the food. It makes Jungkook laugh, even as he follows suit.

As you eat, Jungkook grabs his phone from his pocket, scrolling on Instagram. You look at the screen as he does so, resting your head on his shoulder when you’re done with the eggs. It’s something you also often do - looking at memes and the likes together, spending time in silence, together.

“I hope the forecast has changed for tomorrow,” Jungkook says through a yawn as he switches to the weather app.

It hasn’t. The forecast still announces a rainstorm, and you hide your face in his neck as you groan.

“What are we supposed to do?” you ask. “We can’t have everyone sit in the rain.”

“The reception hall said we can be there early,” Jungkook reminds you. “We can just have the ceremony there instead.”

You pout, not replying. Because you had planned to have the ceremony outside - you’d even wanted to have it happen at night, under a blanket of stars. But it wasn’t possible, so you’d settled for a ceremony outside in a field. Unlike traditional Korean weddings, you’d also decided to have a reception after, so Jungkook has a point.

But you really don’t feel like getting married indoors.

“We should just cancel everything,” you whine. “Let’s wait until we can have our perfect wedding.”

Jungkook leans his head on top of yours. “It’s sunny today.” His voice holds mischief, and you sit back to look at him. His eyes twinkle like stars in the night sky, and for a moment, you just want to get lost in his gaze.

Until an idea sparks in your mind.

“Can we move everything to today?” you ask.

He purses his lips. “Jimin, Bridget and Heather are landing today,” he reminds you. “I thought you wanted to introduce Jimin and Somi.”

Somi. A friend you met during your spinning classes. She’s been a gift here in Korea, helping you adjust in ways that Jungkook couldn’t. More than that, Somi is a hopeless romantic, and something about the way she carries herself makes you think that Jimin would like her.

Maybe she’s what Jimin needs to finally move on from Scottie.

“Right,” you let out. “Fuck.”

Jungkook shrugs. “We could get married and then still have the reception tomorrow.”

Your gaze widens. “You think your dad would accept?”

Indeed, Jungkook’s father is your officiant, since your own father wouldn’t have any legal right to marry you in South Korea. It was still an easy decision though - Jungkook’s family has been treating you like you’ve always been a part of them ever since you’ve met them, all those years ago.

“Definitely,” Jungkook affirms. “I can call him right now.”

“What about the witnesses?” you ask.

“Ask your dad to come, and my mother or my brother can sign for me.”

It seems so simple. You do feel a little guilty thinking about all of your friends who came all the way here to see you get married, but then again, you think they would understand.

They all know that you and Jungkook have always been a little more on the secretive side, even when you were young and dumb college students. So you don’t think any of them would hold it against you…

“Jungkook…”

“Yes?”

“Should we really?”

Even as you ask the question, you already know you want to. Because declaring your love in a room full of people feels like a lot of pressure, even though all of them are already aware of that same love. But to you, it feels impersonal, and you’d rather just do it alone with Jungkook and a few key people.

Maybe it’s the reason why the forecast has been battling against you. Like a sign that you aren’t supposed to get married in that field anyway.

“Do you want to?” Jungkook asks, tilting his head to the side as his features grow serious.

You nod once. “I think it’s a good idea…” you trail off, wetting your lips. “Especially considering the rain.”

“And then I’d get to call you wife today,” he says, smiling softly.

“And I’d get to call you husband.”

His smile slowly widens. “Then let’s do it.”

“What about everyone else though? What do we say?”

Jungkook flicks your nose, winking at you. “They don’t need to know.”

“And the hairstylist and makeup artist?”

“You can still get glammed up for the reception.”

“And Mingyu?”

“I’ll tell him to come today.”

You hold his big doe eyes for a moment, pursing your lips. Your heart syncs with his, warmth filling your soul. It feels like that July night sky, like his lips on yours and a reunion after months apart. Time stretches, and for a moment, you see all of your life in front of you, and all the love and the happiness and joy that it will hold.

Eyes slowly lining with silver, you finally say, “Let’s do it.”

*****

The field is lined with wildflowers, swimming in the breeze. Their fragrance floats in the air, and bees flutter from flower to flower, collecting the pollen. Fat clouds roll in the sky above, plump and white, and the sun shines, endlessly.

The arch where you were supposed to get married tomorrow is already there, a beautiful contraption of entwined vines. White and lilac balloons were supposed to be added to it, but the lack of them doesn’t deter you.

Not when the man you love is waiting for you, right under it. Eyes shining with unshed tears, as your hand tightens on your father’s arm.

“Let’s do it,” your father whispers for just you to hear.

You swallow around the lump in your throat. “What if it’s the wrong thing to do?”

You can’t help the anxiety. It isn’t even what you truly feel - just the anxiety of an important moment in your life, coming sooner than expected. Your question makes your father laugh.

“I’ve never seen a man loving a woman as much as the kid loves you,” he reassures you. “Put him out of his misery.”

You snort, though it sounds more like a sob, as a tear rolls on your cheek. “I love him so much, too.”

Your father pats your hand, and then starts walking you towards where Jungkook is waiting for you, his mother and brother next to him, his father behind him. All of them look at you with tears in their eyes, and you fight the next wave that threatens to spill on your cheeks.

Louis, Isabelle, Jungkook’s brother’s wife and their kids are standing on each side of the makeshift aisle, as the chairs weren’t delivered yet. Still, they also look at you. For a moment, you picture your friends - Jiho, Hobi, Somi, Heather, Bridget, Jo, Taehyung, Kiko, Yoongi, Jin, Valeria, Jimin, Lance and Chaeyeong… You picture all of them sharing this moment of love with you. You do feel bad for them - especially for Jiho and Heather, who were supposed to be your bridesmaids - but then again, you’ll see them tonight.

For your pretend bachelorette.

Everyone present right now promised to keep this instant secret, at least until the reception tomorrow. Just so that you can tell your friends yourself when the moment comes.

You take a step forward, and then another, the distance between you and Jungkook slowly diminishing until you’re standing right in front of him, close enough to see the scar on his left cheek and the mole under his bottom lip. You see everything and nothing at once, your tears blinding you until you blink them away.

Jungkook is not faring any better. Two tears are rolling down his right cheek, and he wipes them with the back of his hand, chuckling softly.

He looks beautiful in his tuxedo, the form tight to his body. He looks massive, strong, yet so delicate in the way his features soften as he looks at you. As he melts like ice in the sun, like you do as well. You melt like that winter of the months away from him never existed, like you never broke up for those terrible months. The memory of them left a scar on your heart, but as you look at him right now, you think the scar is disappearing, like maybe it really never existed.

You look down at yourself, at the white dress on your body. It’s tight to your frame, but the fabric is stretchy enough for it to remain comfortable. Its off-the-shoulder style is perfect for the warm temperature, and the lace that decorates it is beautiful, yet simple.

Jungkook takes you in, whispering, “You’re beautiful,”, as his father starts reciting the usual wedding speech. As much as you want to focus, to paint this moment in your memory, to be able to relive it again and again, it flashes before you until you finally reach the vows.

Jungkook scrapes his throat, then lets out a small, pained sob as new tears roll down his cheeks. You cry in time with him, laughing through it all, as you wipe the tears on his face.

“Okay,” he says, taking a deep breath to calm down. “Wow. I…” he trails off, chuckling again, and his hands close around yours in the space between you. “I never believed we’d finally reach this day,” Jungkook finally says. “For years, I’ve known that you were the one. Hell, I knew the first day I saw you.” He chuckles, and you swallow around the lump in your throat. “I think that’s why you got on my nerves so much.” You swat his arm, laughing, and he winks at you. “I think then I was just scared, because I knew just how much I was going to love you someday, and it first scared me. But when I finally got to be with you, I realized there is nothing to be scared about when it comes to my love for you.” He pauses, blinking a few times. “Except when you get mad at me. That’s scary.”

Soft laughter surrounds you, that of the closest people in your life right now. Mingyu snaps pictures, and your brain zeroes in on the sound for a few seconds until Jungkook speaks again.

“And then I lost you.” You shut your eyes, the pain of the few months away awakening inside of you. “I hated myself for those few months, but even then, I think I knew it was always going to be us two. Whether in this life or another, I knew I’d find you again.” His voice, heavy with emotion, wavers on the last words, and it takes him a moment of breathing in and out before he’s able to continue. “I will forever be thankful that I found you again in this life. That I’ll get to spend every day of my life with you.”

The wind is gentle on your features, almost as gentle as Jungkook’s touch is. Your hands tighten on his fingers for a few seconds, to give him the strength to finish.

“That we’ll get to share the dance of our lives, until death does us part,” he finishes. “I love you, Y/n.”

That last bit was barely over a whisper, yet it clangs through you, vibrates in your soul beautifully. You laugh softly, whispering, “I love you too, Jungkook. So, so much.”

He laughs too, and then you both blink away tears, right as you take a few deep breaths, trying to get ready for your own vows.

You’ve prepared them a while ago. As a matter of fact, the days following his proposal you’d known what you were going to say. You’d almost suggested getting married right then and there, though you don’t regret anything.

Because today feels right. It feels right in ways you can’t comprehend, like it’s time for an entirely new cataclysm, but one that creates.

One that creates a life instead of destroying. That creates a world for just you and him, something you’ll share until the very end.

“Jungkook,” you start. “I’ve loved you more than I’ve ever loved anything in my life. Even when I didn’t know what love was, you were there in my heart, slowly making the place yours. When we danced under the stars eight years ago, I knew we would make it to this day. That we’d get married, that we’d always be partners. And I want us to be partners. I want us to make every important decision together, to love and hold each other. To dance under a thousand different night skies, to grow old and grumpy together. Every day, I will love you. I will look into your eyes and know that they were made for me.”

You pause, wiping tears on your cheeks. “I also want to thank you. Thank you for being patient with me, for welcoming me back into your life after those months last year. Thank you for still loving me, for still wanting me even though I broke your heart. And thank you, all those years ago, for being there for me, even though we were at an awkward place in life. The help you granted me when I got kicked out kept me going, and I really, really thank you for it. I just hope I can repay you properly through the years.”

“You already have,” Jungkook chokes out.

You want to wrap him in your arms, but you resist, instead holding his gaze with all the love in your heart. You think your souls are merging, though you reckon you’ve been one for far longer than this moment already.

You’ve been one since you first chose to love him, and he you.

“You can exchange the rings,” Jungkook’s father says, and he sounds just as choked on emotion as the two of you.

So you do, Jungkook gently pushing the ring on your finger. It’s pretty, delicate, similar to the engagement ring he’d gotten you. Though the wedding ring sports emeralds instead, shaped like leaves. It’s fairy-like, and you smile at its simple beauty before putting Jungkook’s ring on his finger.

He raises his hand to look at the ring, smiling brightly. As his father proclaims to kiss the bride, Jungkook’s hand shifts towards you, before gently grabbing your chin. He tilts your head back, and your eyes dip to his mouth as he wets his lips.

“I love you so fucking much, baby,” he says, and then he’s crashing his mouth on yours, ravishing a passionate kiss on your lips.

You wrap your arms around his neck as he dips you, unable to stop the smile that grows on your lips despite the intensity of the kiss. Jungkook is smiling too, and he straightens you as he pulls away before pecking your lips once more.

“I love you so fucking much too.”

*****

Lying to your friends has been feeling like a game you can play too well. Or maybe it’s only because you’re still reeling from getting married, though you have yet to call Jungkook your husband. You’re waiting until tomorrow, maybe to save something for your wedding night.

It’s hard to tell why you both refrained. Maybe you just really want something special for the wedding night, for the moment you’ll finally be embracing in your marital bed, limbs entwined until one can’t tell where you end and where he begins.

Your blood heats up at the thought. Earlier, when you were forced to part ways, you’d almost decided to stay. To stay and fuck him right then and there, to consummate this union between you and him. From the way he’d kissed you, driving his knee between your legs, you know he wanted it too.

But time ran out, and Jiho knocked on your door, stealing you away.

You shake your head, trying to clear your mind so that you can focus on your friends. On the dinner going on around you, with too much alcohol for it to be safe. When you told your friends that the ceremony was supposedly moved inside and later in the day, they’d decided that drinking more was the way to go.

So maybe you shake your head to clear your mind from the alcohol as you dive into the food. It’s delicious, and you eat and laugh and smile with your friends, loving how Somi fits right in despite the language barrier. Both Jiho and Chaeyeoung also speak Korean, so it’s been helping for sure, Somi chatting happily with them.

You sit back in your chair, looking over your group of friends. Heather, with her arm on the chair behind Bridget, smiling broadly at something Bridget is saying. Jiho, fast in a conversation with Somi and Chaeyeoung about a group Jungkook was photographing last week. Jo and Kiko, subtly trying to pour shots for the both of them, the latter’s cheeks already flushed red. Valeria watching them, eyes crinkled with happiness.

You love them so freaking much.

You wonder if Jungkook is sitting through a similar dinner with the rest of the friend group. You wonder if he, too, is thinking of you, imagining the moment you’ll finally be reunited. Imagining the moment you’ll be able to put the ring back on your finger so that everyone will know you’re his and he’s yours.

“Hey, are you planning to give some of that to the rest of us?” you ask Jo and Kiko, and Jo startles, spilling alcohol over the rim of her shot glass.

“Oh,” Jo lets out. “You guys want some?”

“Aren’t we partying tonight?” you remind her.

Jo smirks wickedly. “We sure are.”

And so she pours shots for everyone. You clink the glasses together, not caring for the spilled alcohol, and knock it back. The burn down your throat is devilish, and you know that tonight might just be the time of your life, in different ways than tomorrow night will be.

You notice Valeria looking at her still full shot glass before putting it down on the table. She finds you looking, and she shrugs her shoulders.

“Wait,” you let out, and everyone turns to look at you. “Are you…?”

Valeria chuckles, eyes filling with tears. “Yeah, I am.”

Everybody screams and shrieks in happiness, congratulating her. She beams under the attention, and you find yourself blinking back tears for her and Jin. They’d been trying for kids for a few years now, but they’d been unlucky so far. So you’re really happy for them, and you get up to hug your friend tight.

“I didn’t mean to steal your shine,” she whispers.

“Don’t worry about it,” you reassure her as you pull away. “I’m just happy for you.”

She smiles, nodding her head. “Thank you.”

You pat her shoulder, walking back to your seat so that the other girls can hug and congratulate her. Questions about how far along she is and if she wants a girl or a boy are exchanged, and you watch the scene unfold with a teary-eyed smile on your lips.

Jiho, sitting next to you, leans closer to you. “What about you?” she asks.

You cock an eyebrow. “What?”

“You and Jungkook are planning to have any kids?”

The question makes your heart race. Years ago, you would have said no. Even last year, when you’d reconnected, you hadn’t been sure if kids were in your future. But the more time you spend with Jungkook, loving him, the more you realize that maybe it’s a future that would feel right for the both of you.

Because if there’s someone you would want to raise a kid with, it would have to be Jungkook.

“I’m not sure,” you truthfully reply. “Maybe one day?”

Jiho smiles, knowing what you mean. She’s been your closest friend all your life after all, and she already knows the ways of your brain. “You would be brilliant parents,” she tells you, her eyes shining with tears.

“I don’t know about that, but I would definitely do my best.”

She laughs, rolling her eyes. “The way you parent Lisa and Charles for me and Hobi sometimes tells me you’d be the best parents.”

“Stop,” you say, echoing her laugh as you shake your head. “We’ll see.”

“We sure will.”

After that, the conversation returns to a shared one around the table, one you gladly participate in. It’s not too long before you decide to hit the streets, heading to the club Somi chose for the evening. It’s one where you went twice with her before, though tonight you have access to the VIP section.

And so you drink and dance with your friends, careless, as if you’re back to your college days. As if none of you are adults with responsibilities, as if you can just live with no consequences. It feels liberating, yet you find yourself in a quiet corner in the early hours of the morning, seeking the man that you love.

[1:27 am] You: miss u

You’re not quite surprised when Jungkook replies almost right away.

[1:28 am] baby <3: miss u too [1:28 am] baby <3: how’s the party

You smile, heart warming up with your love for him.

[1:28 am] You: it’d be better with u here [1:29 am] baby <3: soon

And though it might just be a text sent in the early hours of the morning, you know that it’s a promise. A promise that you will soon be together again, never to be separated.

Saturday, July 7th

Jungkook looks out the window of the car, heartbeat racing like it’s seeking to win a Formula 1 Grand Prix. He doubts he’ll win - it rather feels like he’s about to go into cardiac arrest.

He doesn’t know why he’s so anxious. Hell, you’re already married, and he just can’t wait to see you again. Though it might be the fact that he’s been lying to everyone, and he hates lying.

He reckons Jimin is onto him. The moment they hugged for the first time, Jimin narrowed his gaze, tilting his head to the side as if to say ‘Something’s changed about you’. Jungkook wanted to admit everything, to reveal that you are already married, but he held on strong.

He’s excited to get to the reception hall and to say the truth. Mostly, he’s excited to have you close again, and he knows he’ll never be without you again. Especially considering how much of a mess he is after just a single day.

He’s yet to call you wife. He’s been trying to figure out a way to do it, something for just the two of you. Because it’s always been about the two of you anyway - ever since the very first day, ever since that dance under the night sky. Eight years ago to the day, Jungkook fell so deep in love, and every day he’s been falling more. And he knows he’ll keep on falling - it’s the most beautiful thing in life. His love for you, yes, but the act of it being shared by your pure heart.

You’ll have so much fun together.

Taehyung parks the car in the parking lot of the reception hall, shooting a look at Jungkook over his shoulder. Jungkook offers him a tight-lipped smile, and Taehyung nods once.

“Ready?” he asks.

“Definitely,” Jungkook says, smile softening.

Taehyung nods again, before turning back around to turn off the wipers and then the engine. The sound of the rain on the roof of the car is deafening, yet Jungkook thinks it’s a beautiful melody.

It allowed him to marry you yesterday after all.

Lance gets out of the car, carrying an umbrella around so that Jungkook won’t get wet. He wants to say it’s useless - you saw him already - but he refrains, instead thanking his friend as he gets out of the car, safe from the storm.

The car with Namjoon, Jin, Hobi, Yoongi and Mingyu arrives behind them, and they all quickly make their way inside, shaking off the water. The families are already here, and Jungkook watches as everyone mingles, bright smiles on their lips. Bridget and Heather come to see him, and he smiles widely as the couple stops in front of him.

“Excited?” Bridget asks.

His smile turns into a smirk. “More than ever. Especially for tonight.”

Heather rolls her eyes as Bridget wiggles her eyebrows, and then Jungkook’s father jogs to him, grabbing his arm.

“It’s time,” the older man says.

Jungkook feels a lump forming in his throat, as if it isn’t already done. As if you aren’t already united by the vows of marriage, until death does you apart. Yet, he still nods goodbye to his friends, and then follows his father to the little dais where the DJ will be playing later tonight.

People turn to look at him curiously, probably expecting him to go out of the room for the wedding processional. Instead, Jungkook grabs a mic, scraping his throat before bringing it closer to his mouth.

“Hey everyone,” he greets the crowd, and silence slowly falls on the room. “Thank you for coming today. It means a lot to me and Y/n, more than you can imagine.”

And then you walk out of the room where you were hiding with Jiho, Heather and Somi, and people gasp at the sight of you.

“The only thing is,” Jungkook continues, and he offers you his hand to hold. The moment your fingers touch he feels rejuvenated, like maybe he was just born this instant. And you look fabulous - did you get more beautiful in the day apart? “The only thing is,” Jungkook restarts. “We already got married.”

Wide gazes and shocked gasps now fill the room, and Jungkook hands you the mic, even as Jiho takes a step towards you, as if to stop you.

“We’d always dreamed to get married outside,” you say, and you motion to the rain splattering on the window panes. “Unfortunately, the weather was working against us. So we got married yesterday, with only our close family present.”

You meet Jungkook’s gaze, offering him a teary-eyed smile. He’s surprised to see the tears in your gaze, as if not expecting them, but they quickly make his gaze wet as well, and he chuckles softly, his heart feeling like he’s been embraced by all the love in the universe.

The world slows around you. Jungkook feels like he’s falling through the years, through the past, through every hurdle that stood in your path. All of them were worth it. So fucking worth it - he wouldn’t be standing next to you right now without them.

Your smile softens, if that is even possible. Eyes so full of love he thinks he’ll combust, like a firework exploding in colours and beauty. Because you’ve always brought out the best of him.

“So we did want to apologize to all of you who traveled all the way from the States,” you continue, and you look away from Jungkook.

He steps closer to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder to press you against him. You easily melt in his touch, leaning your head on him.

“But we also wanted to thank you for coming, and we hope that tonight’s party is going to still be worth it.”

On that note, Jungkook gets the rings in his pocket, as you give the mic to a stunned Jiho. You face him again, and like yesterday, Jungkook gently puts your ring on your finger. It’s delicate, beautiful - everything that you are as well. His is simpler, yet still just as elegant, and its weight is a comfortable reminder of your love the second it’s on his finger.

Looking in your eyes, Jungkook wonders if he deserves your love. It’s a weird question to ask himself in the moment, and he knows he does. Or at least he’ll always work to make sure he deserves it, and he’ll offer you everything in his heart and soul. Because you’re the love of his life - he knew from the moment he met you.

“I love you,” you whisper.

Jungkook gently grabs your cheeks, the crowd slowly fading away. It’s like you’re alone in the universe, just you and him. In a world that is just yours - maybe that forgotten space where you’d first met. It’s a world of simple love, eternal. And in that world, Jungkook gently leans in, pressing his lips on yours, kissing you like he has all the time in the universe.

And he does. He does now.

Cheering brings him back to reality, and Jungkook pulls away, laughing along with you as you grab his hand, facing your friends and family. They are cheering and clapping, bright smiles welcoming you back to reality. You bow to them in tandem, and then Jungkook leads you down the dais so that you can receive the congratulations from everyone.

And though it might be a little exhausting, Jungkook knows that all of his burdens will now be shared with you. So with a heart lighter than the wind, Jungkook follows you around the room, and he follows you to your shared future.

*****

The reception has been fun. The food was perfect, the cake just as tasty, and to be surrounded with the people you love has been a dream. A beautiful dream - one you’ll forever spend with the love of your life.

Jungkook leads you to the dancefloor for the first dance. A dance for just the two of you, shared with your friends and family. The first of so many other dances, yet it’s hardly the first. You stop in front of him, and he puts one hand on your waist, the other gently closing around your fingers. You put your free hand on his shoulder, squeezing softly.

Before you even start dancing, Jungkook whispers, “Do you want to dance with me?” and your eyes fill with tears as a sob racks through you.

“Yes,” you whisper back. “Always.”

He smiles, a tear rolling on his cheek, and then the music starts. It’s a soft song, a gentle love song, by an artist you both came to love through the years. It’s one you’ve danced to a thousand times before, yet today it feels different. It feels like that July night eight years ago - the cataclysm of you and him, relived.

So you dance with him, eyes lost in the shine of his gaze, in the pure love it holds. You dance and dance, remembering the years. Remembering finding him again after his accident. Remembering the hate you’d arbored for him, that had always been love disguised. Remembering falling in love, yet pushing him away. Remembering Laura, and the day Jungkook had chosen you over her. Remembering Chicago, the dance crew, the parties you spent too busy getting lost in each other to partake in the reveling.

You remember everything - moving into your new apartment, him later moving in with you. Loving each other - the day Lisa was born, and Jungkook had held her with so many stars in his eyes you believed he’d turn into a galaxy. You remember the cottage, the camping trips, the long distance. The dreaded long distance - who would have thought it was leading you to this moment in time? You remember Harrison, remember falling back into Jungkook’s arms - the hotel balcony on Taehyung and Jo’s wedding. You remember everything, all at once - the day he proposed.

And the day he married you. The most important day of your life, forever.

As the dance slowly comes to an end, Jungkook kisses you again. Telling you that he, too, remembers everything. That it was all supposed to happen the way that it did, if only to lead you to the right place for you. On the other side of the world, together.

Always together.

After that first dance, everyone joins you on the dancefloor. Love in their hearts, your friends and family dance. Laughter and smiles and teary eyes reign on the world tonight, and you take it all in. Take all the love in, and redirect it to Jungkook.

So you kiss him, right there on the dance floor. You kiss him deeply, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep him close. And he kisses you back, his arms snaking around your waist. You wonder if he can hear the wild beats of your heart - is his heart beating just as wildly?

You know it is. Because the love between you and him will forever be shared - it’s the kind people write poems about. And you feel like a poet tonight, like you’re experiencing the most beautiful moment of your life. Something you’ll always look back on with fondness and love and nostalgia.

When you’ll be old and grey and death will take you in its hold, you know today will be the movie in your mind, the moment you’ll relive before you go.

But for now, you need to experience it. To party with your friends, to enjoy this moment where you and Jungkook are celebrated. So you do. Even as Jiho scolds you for not telling her, even as your father makes a speech that ends up making everyone cry. You think you’re on top of a mountain, breathing in the fresh air, making you feel younger than you’ve ever been. New, untainted by the horrors of the world.

It’s just you and Jungkook tonight, and love. Love and love and love, as he leads you outside to get fresh air after the first hour of partying. If his leg is hurting him, he doesn’t let it show. Instead he leads you away from the light of the building, walking around the ponds left from the rain earlier.

It relented. It relented to let you see the moon and the stars, though clouds drift above, hiding most of the blanket of constellations that means so much to the two of you.

“How are you feeling?” Jungkook asks as he pulls your back flush to his chest, and you both tilt your heads back to look up to the night sky.

“Infinite,” you reply. “I feel like I love you even more than before.”

He kisses the top of your head. “So do I. Forever.”

“Forever,” you echo.

Because the end won’t ever come for you and him. Even in death, you know your soul will dance with his.

“Dance with me,” you tell him.

It’s a remix of your usual question, yet the answer doesn’t change. Jungkook turns you around, yet keeps you close to him, swaying you to the soft night breeze. He leans his forehead against yours, and you breathe in the same air as you dance gently, slowly.

“We’re married,” Jungkook murmurs.

“We are.”

“I love you so much,” he adds, his voice trembling with emotion.

Yours isn’t much better as you reply, “I love you so much too.”

*****

Jimin walks outside, needing fresh air. He stops in his tracks when he notices you and Jungkook, dancing the night away. He smiles - if only he’d be able to find love like that one day.

Though his heart aches, never fully healed from what happened with Scottie, Jimin is happy for the two of you. Happy that, through the hurdles, you and Jungkook made it.

You give him hope, more than he’d dare admit.

He looks at you for a few more seconds, before turning around to walk back inside. He startles at the sight of the pretty girl behind him, and he stops right before he was to run into her.

Somi. Right. The friend you told him about. And though Jimin is usually charming, flirty, all he can do when he looks down at the girl is shyly smile, cheeks burning.

“They’re adorable,” she says in Korean, looking behind him.

Jimin glances at you once more. “They really are. I can only hope to find love like that someday.”

He meets Somi’s gaze again, scolding himself for saying such a vulnerable thing to a stranger. Yet, her eyes twinkle with understanding, and she motions to the side.

“Do you want to walk with me?”

Jimin feels his throat go dry, yet he nods. “Sure.”

“It’s just…” she trails off. “I think we’re the only single people here,” she explains, as if she needed to.

Or as if he didn’t sound so sure.

“Even if we weren’t, I’d still walk with you,” Jimin says, voice low, finding some of his old charming self back.

It works. Damn it it works, and Somi takes it in stride, a gentle smile moving on her red-tinted lips. “Good. Because you’re the only one I’d want to walk with.”

He laughs, a clear laugh he hasn’t laughed in years. And then they walk with easy conversation, and Somi reveals more of her past. More of how she became friends with you, how she always wanted to meet everyone. To meet Jimin, she adds, a shy smile on her lips.

They walk to a small river, though the current is rushing from the rainstorm earlier. Yet the night takes the edge off the rush, making it seem like the most idyllic scene Jimin could have conjured up.

Or maybe that’s Somi and her soft smiles. Her big eyes shining brightly whenever she meets his gaze. He feels like he never truly breathed before this moment - like the night air is the most refreshing, rejuvenating.

It helps that the conversation is so easy. That Somi doesn’t know about Scottie, unlike the friend group. Unlike everyone, who’s always treated Jimin differently after the breakup. Somi doesn’t - she teases him, smiles with him, and when they walk back to the reception hall when Jimin notices her shivering, even though he’s given her his jacket, she dances with him.

Jimin feels new, raw. He laughs with her, smiles with her, and butterflies slowly come to life in his stomach. His heart feels warmer than it’s felt in years - Somi is healing him. Damn him, she’s healing him in ways he doesn’t comprehend, and he barely knows her yet.

But when the end of the night comes, and he presses a gentle kiss on her lips that she immediately reciprocates, Jimin knows he’ll spend the rest of his life trying to get to know her better.

So he lets Scottie go, and welcomes Somi in.

*****

“After you,” Jungkook says, opening the door of the hotel room you’ve rented for tonight.

Bam is being babysat with your father for the night, which you think is a relief. You’ll definitely be too busy to take care of a dog tonight.

You walk into the room, taking in the flower petals and the candles that were lit by the hotel staff before your return. The atmosphere is light, romantic - a dream come true after all the years of you and him. You spin on yourself, your wedding dress fluttering around you.

Jungkook has closed the door behind him, and he’s leaning against it, watching you twirl with a smile on his lips. When you stop to look at him, his smile slowly turns into a smirk, and he tilts his head to the side.

“I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long,” he murmurs with a husky voice.

He slowly takes off his tie, and you patiently survey him, warmth spreading through you. Once the tie is off, Jungkook steps towards you, putting it around your neck.

He tugs on it, and you stumble forward in his embrace. He was ready to catch you - he crashes his mouth on yours, and you immediately kiss him back, fire blazing in your soul. Jungkook backs you towards the bed, sucking on your lower lip.

“Kook,” you breathe against his soft pink lips, and then he pushes you on the bed.

He towers over you, slowly shrugging off his blazer. He throws it towards the couch in one corner, and the flames of the candles flicker from the rush of air. Next is his dress shirt - he slowly unbuttons it, revealing more of his perfect, honey skin as he goes down.

You watch him, hungrily. Follow every movement of his fingers, imagining how they will soon feel on you. And when he’s done unbuttoning his shirt, you open it for him, caressing his abs with the tip of your fingers. Goosebumps trail in the wake of your fingers, and Jungkook sucks in a breath as you graze his scar.

The soft, flickering light of the candles lessen the harsh edges of the scar that disappears in his pants. You follow down the line until you reach the band of his pants, and then you lean forward to press a soft kiss on the spot.

“So beautiful,” you praise. “My husband.”

He grabs your face, forcing you to look up as he bends down to kiss you. It’s a gentle kiss, yet it quickly turns languid, his tongue pushing into your mouth. You meet it with your own, drinking him in, getting drunk on his taste. His thumbs gently caress your cheeks, lovingly, never-ending.

Because love will never end between you and him.

Your hands find his dainty waist, his skin warm against your palms. He shudders as you move up his flanks, and then you pull him down, moving back on the bed. Your lips never disconnect - like two adjacent puzzle pieces that have finally been joined. So Jungkook lies on top of you, the lapels of his dress shirt tickling your arms. You try to take it off him, but it’s unsuccessful. Until he kneels to help, and soon, your eyes fall to his perked brown nipples.

You pinch them playfully as Jungkook just watches you with his gaze full of swirling emotions, love on the surface of it all. You swim in his gaze, getting lost in him.

“I’m your husband,” he breathes.

You nod, eyes filling with unsuspected tears. “You are.”

“I’m so fucking lucky.”

And then he’s bending down again, stealing a searing kiss on your lips. You moan in his mouth, and he swallows it like he always does, with a grunt of his own. You run your hands on his back, up to his hair, and you tug at the soft strands on the back of his head.

He groans a little louder this time and then pulls away from the kiss. His gaze is dark, with desire and passion and love and everything that makes him the person that you want and will spend the rest of your life with.

“How do I get you out of this dress?” he asks as one of his hands runs up and down your arm.

You sigh. “I’m pretty sure I’d have to be standing.”

He pouts, yet he gets up, gently grabbing your small hands in his large ones so that he can help you up. Once you’re standing, he pecks your nose once, turning you around when he’s done. He brushes your hair over one shoulder before bending down to kiss the skin on the side of your neck.

“It’s a shame that I have to take it off,” he breathes right in your ear, and you shiver. “But I want to see all of you while I’m making you mine tonight.”

“I’m already yours,” you reply, breath hitching in your throat as he sucks on your skin.

“Oh, I know.” He kisses your neck again and then pulls away.

It takes him a few seconds to figure out how to get you out of your dress, but he soon finds the zipper. He slowly pulls it down, and you feel his gaze burning on every inch of skin revealed. When he’s done unzipping, Jungkook pushes the dress off down your arms, and it slowly falls to the floor, pooling around your ankles.

“You weren’t wearing any underwear?” Jungkook asks, sounding out of breath.

You step out of the dress, turning to look at him innocently. “I wasn’t. Should I have?”

You can tell it takes everything in him not to jump on you. Instead, he pulls you by his tie again - you forgot it was around your neck. When you step closer to him, he lets it go, and it falls between your breasts. You look down at yourself right as Jungkook pinches your nipples, and they perk under his fingers.

“So, so beautiful,” he praises again, and he bends down to suck on one of your nipples.

Your eyes flutter shut, and you let out a breathy sound as he cups your other breast, palming it softly. You lose your hands in his hair again, tugging gently to bring his mouth back to yours. You suck on his tongue the moment he pushes it in your mouth, and Jungkook grunts, especially as one of your hands falls in the space between you, palming his dick through his pants.

He’s already hard, sitting heavy in your hand, and you moan as he rests his forehead against yours.

“Shit, baby,” he breathes out. “I’m so horny. I feel like I won’t last long.”

With a devilish smirk, you drop to your knees. “It’s okay,” you reassure him. “We can fuck all night long.”

You bite at his dick through the fabric, and he curses under his breath. Yet he doesn’t do anything, just watches you as you work on his belt. When it comes undone, you unbutton his pants, holding his half-lidded gaze.

“So you want me to come in your mouth first, mmh?” he asks. “You want to swallow every last drop?”

You unzip the pants, pushing it down his legs. “You’d like that?”

“Baby, I’d love it.”

You look down at his dick, straining against his boxers. You peck his length, before smiling up at him. “I love you.”

And then you push his boxers down as well, immediately taking the tip of his cock in your mouth.

“I love-” he moans, “you too.”

You suck on his tip before pulling away so that you can jerk him off. “So fuck my mouth, Kook. Come down my throat.”

His chest rapidly goes up and down from his quick breaths, and Jungkook nods. “Alright. Open up your throat for me, baby.”

You do, mouth falling open as you push your tongue out. You let go of his dick so that he can hold it instead, and he taps it twice on your tongue, a string of saliva connecting his slit to your mouth. It’s hot, sinful, yet all you focus on are his pretty eyes as they narrow, almost as if he’s in pain, or maybe angry. His brows are bunched together, and you know he’s about to ruin you.

You want him to ruin you. You want him to ruin you every single day of the rest of your life.

Getting tired of teasing, Jungkook pushes his dick in your mouth. You take him in, relaxing your throat as he pushes as far back as you can take him. You keep the gag reflex in, and Jungkook sighs as he slowly pulls out, pushing in once more just a second later. He lets go of his dick to hold your cheeks instead, thumbs swiping on your skin again.

“You tap my leg if it gets too much, yeah?” he asks.

You moan around him, offering him a thumbs-up. It makes him snort, and he pulls out of your mouth as you start laughing, too.

“I really fucking love you, wow,” he says. “The love of my life.”

You’d get sentimental if he didn’t push his dick in your mouth again. Instead, you moan softly, and Jungkook grunts in approval.

And then he unleashes himself. You hold on to his powerful thighs, appreciating the way his muscles shift under his skin, the way the jagged edges of his scar tickle your palm. Jungkook is a grunting and cursing mess over you, though praises of love for you are the most common. You moan for him, relaxing your throat, doing all you can to keep the gag reflex in. Jungkook wipes the tears that slip on your cheeks, always trusting you to stop him if it’s too much.

But it’s not too much. Ever. You want him to ruin you so bad you’ll never be able to say anything other than his name. And he seems like he wants it, too, as he keeps snapping his hips forward in quick, harsh thrusts. His dick is infinitely hard in your mouth, and you swallow around it, though it triggers your gag reflex.

Jungkook pulls out of your mouth, though he immediately starts jerking off. You recognize the signs that he’s about to come, and you quickly wrap your lips around his tip. He throws his head back, and his dick starts twitching, his warm cum spilling on your tongue.

The taste makes you go feral. Makes you take as much of him in as you can, and cum overflows on your chin. But you don’t care - you’re truly feral for him, forever.

Jungkook finishes unloading his load directly in your throat, and he’s shaking by the time you finally pull away, swallowing his cum. The heady taste and scent doesn’t make you gag, and you lick your lips clean as he looks down at you, chest flushed red.

“Fuck,” he curses, and then he chuckles, a smile growing on his lips. “I’m the luckiest guy alive.”

You laugh as you get up, wiping your chin. “And I’m the luckiest girl.”

“You sure are,” he says, eyes fondly looking down at you. They quickly darken again, and he motions to the bed. “Now let me return the favour to my beautiful love.”

You feel like rolling your eyes at his cheesiness, yet you only then realize that he hasn’t called you wife once. Somehow, it makes you anxious, yet you’re too drunk on the taste of him to be able to interpret anything. You only obey him, lying on your back. Jungkook kneels next to the bed, and he gently caresses your thighs before pulling you closer.

He bends down, breathing in the scent of you. “I think,” he starts, and then he pauses to push his tongue inside of you once. “We’ll fuck like animals tonight.”

“Plea-” you start, though the moment he sucks on your clit, it breaks into a moan. “Jungkook…”

He doesn’t reply. He immediately busies himself with lapping you up, with drinking you in. He moans against you, appreciatively, and you lose a hand in his hair again. He’s long dishevelled by now - there’s something terribly hot about it. Because this man is yours - your husband. From now until death does you apart.

He flicks your clit, and you moan out his name the instant he slides a finger inside of you. He curls it, searching for the sweetest spot inside of you, and your eyes roll to the back of your head when he starts rubbing on it.

“Kook,” you moan. “Fuck.”

“Tell me how good I’m making you feel,” he says, sitting back on his heels just long enough to push another finger inside of you. Scissor motions press against the tightening muscles of your pussy, and you rock your hips towards his face. He tuts. “A little impatient, are we?”

You groan in frustration as he blows on your clit, the sensitive organ flush with blood, hard, just waiting for the next swipe of his tongue so that you can explode. But Jungkook denies it - he kisses the inside of your thighs, tracing hickeys on your soft skin. Then he kisses your pelvis, ghosting on your clit. He licks your lips, red with your arousal. He teases and teases, and you whine.

“Please,” you beg, teary-eyed. “I’m so close.”

He gives in immediately. An expert motion on your clit sends you flying over the edge, and your thighs close around his face as you climax hard. Your voice breaks in a moan, and he just keeps on fingering you. You grind against his face, milking your orgasm from yourself, instinctively. He lets you do it, delighting in your taste, in your juice on his chin.

It takes you so long to come down from the high that you don’t realize he’s not fingering you anymore. That he moved - he disappeared from between your legs. Instead, Jungkook lies on the bed next to you, tracing circles around your navel.

You turn your head, looking at him through your blown-wide pupils. He’s fuzzy, beautiful.

And most of all, he’s your husband.

“Wow,” you let out, and you chuckle as he smiles devilishly.

“I know,” he replies. “You squirted at the same time.”

You don’t have it in you to be embarrassed, though you doubt there’s anything to be embarrassed about it. Instead, you only repeat, “Wow,” and he laughs with his bunny smile, eyes crinkling at the corners.

Your husband. This man is your husband now.

“I think you’re right,” you whisper, turning to face him.

He loses the smile, instead looking at you with an inquisitive look on his features, eyebrows raised in question. “About what?”

“We’re going to fuck like animals tonight.”

He bursts out laughing, high and clear, the most beautiful human you’ve ever seen in your life. You join him, and when the laughter subsides, and he rolls over you to kiss you again, you welcome him in, wrapping your arms around his neck to hold him close. He’s over you, caging you, protecting you from the big bad world and from the months last year where you’d broken apart from each other.

You’ll never be separated again.

“We should take a shower,” Jungkook suggests as he pulls away from the kiss to rest his forehead against yours once more, just content with breathing shared air. “I won’t be quite ready to go again for a few minutes.”

You whine, playfully pinching his side, which earns you a shriek from him as he rolls away from you. “You’re boring, Jeon.”

He looks at you, wide smile a little frozen, and then he tears up again. “You haven’t called me that since the beginning,” he reminisces.

“The beginning?” you echo.

He nods. “You know how infuriating it was to see you again for the first time after the accident?”

The mention of his accident makes your eyes drift towards his scars. They’re beautiful on his honey skin, and you mindlessly reach between you to massage the one on his knee.

“You called me Jeon, and you were so pissed to see me,” he remembers, sighing in nostalgia. An emotion you know far too well and that you’re way too happy to dive in with him. “And when you were flirting with Jimin, I could feel my heart sink so deep.”

“Gosh, poor Jimin,” you let out.

Though you both saw him with Somi. You saw the exchanged kiss - the hesitancy, the surprise, and the bright eyes as they’d left separately, yet promised to reach out on the morrow. You’re happy for Jimin and Somi - they both deserve the whole wide world. And though it might be too early to tell, you still cheer for them.

If only because it might bring one of your dearest friends here, and God knows how much you love your friends.

“You think he and Somi will figure shit out?” Jungkook asks, propping his head on his hand.

He looks pretty like that, candlelight still casting a play of shadow and light on his features. Unable to resist, you reach between you, gently tracing the shape of his face.

“I think both of them deserve happiness,” you answer. “If they can find it in each other, I will be very happy for them.”

Jungkook’s face slowly breaks into the softest smile, and then he leans forward to peck your lips once more. “Though I love Jimin, let’s not dwell on this too long. I still want to fuck you stupid.”

You laugh as he playfully pinches your side before getting up. You look at him from where you’re still lying on the bed - his extended hand offers a promise of forever, and it’s a forever you now know to be your future, your truth.

You smile, wind catching in the sails of your heart, and you grab his hands to allow him to help you up. You use the momentum to press your lips on the pillowy softness of his swollen mouth, and Jungkook is quick to kiss you back, to offer you all of his love on a silver platter.

And he doesn’t stop there. Jungkook keeps on kissing you as he leads you to the bathroom. He turns the shower on, only breaking away long enough to adjust the water temperature. He keeps celebrating his love for you in the form of his mouth dancing with yours, and you let him guide you under the warm, soothing water of the shower.

You break away to breathe then, holding each other. Him, with his arms wrapped around your middle. You, leaning back on his chest as you gently trace idle figures on his forearms - love between you is as endless as the water cycle in the bathroom - fog condensing on the mirror, only to go back to its liquid form as it rolls down the glass before evaporating again.

You and Jeon Jungkook are never-ending.

“I love you,” Jungkook breathes when he pulls away to rest his cheek on the top of your head. He gently rocks you from side to side. “I’m so grateful to be married to you.”

“You’re my favourite husband,” you tease, but also test the waters, seeing if he’ll call you wife then.

He doesn’t. Instead, he replies, “I hope you don’t have too many husbands, that’d be upsetting.”

You turn in his arms, the water now spraying your back. “Just you, Kook. There’s always just been you.”

He caves in, brushing his mouth on yours again in the most intimate caress. “What would I do without you?”

You don’t know about him, but you’d wither. You’d wither and fade into darkness, or maybe you’d freeze like the first layer of the ground when the cold hits. You’d stop existing, you’d stop evolving, because he’s the theory of your evolution. He’s your character arc, the reason why you were put on this Earth years ago.

“I want all of you,” you breathe against his lips, and he deepens the kiss, pushing his tongue into your mouth.

You welcome it in, hands getting lost in his now wet hair. His own hands hold your hips firmly, pressing you on his slowly growing erection. Before it goes out of control, you pull away, grabbing a bar of soap to wash him.

He almost purrs under your hands as they trace every line and curve of him. Eyes shut, a small smile on his lips that turns into a pout whenever you let go of him. He’s incredibly adorable - the very reason why your heart skips beat nowadays.

Why your heart ever skipped beats to begin with.

“Let me wash you too,” he murmurs when you’re done, though you haven’t touched his dick yet.

It now stands proud and tall, pointing towards you, leaking precum as you rub the bar of soap in your hands to get some foam. He watches you as you put the soap down, and you wink up at him.

“I’m not done yet.”

This time he shudders when you grab the base of his dick, gently jerking him off once so that you can clean his shaft. You then move to his balls, and you massage them with the most gentle touch you can muster up, not wanting to trigger his arousal right now.

No, you just want him to enjoy the act of being thoroughly cleaned up, to be taken care of in every way he deserves.

“Fuck, baby,” he whispers, and you don’t resist when he pulls you in a kiss. When he switches place with you so that he can wash away the soap from his body, you watch the residue of foam going down the drain, awaiting your turn.

Jungkook’s large hands are infinitely soft, infinitely pure - like he’s never done anything wrong in his life. Looking up at those big doe eyes you love more than the universe itself, you know Jungkook has, in truth, never done any wrong. How could he when he’s the purest soul you’ve ever come across?

He hums as he cleans you, the song you danced to earlier. Your song, you reckon, and you join in, the lyrics floating in the air surrounding you. Though you’ve never been the singer that he is, Jungkook still cleans you, thoroughly, gently, and when he’s done he puts you under the cascade of water, and you let it wash the soap away.

“You’re a fucking angel,” Jungkook whispers, and your eyes flutter open to meet his gaze. Not remembering when they closed, you let them adjust to the light, but Jungkook is quick to crash his mouth against yours, ravishing a soul-ending kiss on your lips.

When he turns you away from the water, your back to him as his own back is now showered with wet warmth, you immediately bend down. Your arousal hasn’t lessened since the actions that transpired in the bed, and Jungkook runs a finger through your folds once.

“You’re already so wet,” he praises. “My good fucking girl.”

“Like animals, right?”

He doesn’t offer a verbal answer - he answers in the physical, brushing his tip on your folds. It’s quite larger than the tip of his finger, and you shudder as your eyes shut as you brace your hands on the ceramic of the wall. The broad tip brushes past your lips before Jungkook pulls out, resting his dick between your ass cheeks.

“Like animals,” he agrees. “Like that first time I fucked you. In the living room of the cottage.” He pushes all the way in then, and you moan loudly, rocking forward. He grabs your hips, fingers digging in the supple flesh. “I wish someone would have found us there. Would have seen just how fucking hot you are when I’m fucking you.”

And then he’s pounding into you, so hard your cheek ends up pressed against the wall as you cry out your pleasure. Even through the haze that grows in your mind, you think about his leg - you know it doesn’t hurt like at the beginning, but whenever he fucks you like that, you’re afraid he’ll hurt himself.

But he doesn’t let you voice your concern. He’s quick to bend forward until he’s able to wrap your throat in your favourite necklace, tattooed fingers cutting the blood circulation to your brain until you grow so dizzy you struggle to stand.

He lets go of your neck then, but he’s still not done jackhammering his hips into yours. He’s a moaning and grunting mess, and the sinful melody of your name and the curses that tumble from his lips slowly guide you towards a new orgasm.

Slowly, yet when he pinches your nipple, hard enough to hurt, your climax hits at the speed of light, and your legs give out under you. You’re lucky he’s holding you up, though you shake through every powerful wave, his name the only thing you know.

You don’t think you need to know anything else anyway. There’s just him - there’s always just going to be him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he curses as your walls clench around his dick again and again, though the muscle grows weaker. When your orgasm leaves you empty and spent, Jungkook pulls you up so that he can wrap his arms around you again, and he litters soft kisses on the back of your shoulder and on your neck. “Let’s go back to the bed,” he whispers. “I’m not done with you at all.”

You whine as he pulls out of you, leaving you far too empty for your liking. He steps out of the shower, grabbing a towel that he holds open for you. You follow him out, and he wraps it around you, pressing a kiss to your forehead before he turns around to grab a towel for himself. You quickly dry yourself, and then Jungkook puts the towels on the hooks behind the door.

“Thank you,” you whisper, and he offers you a lovesick smile.

“Of course,” he says.

He grabs your hand, pulling you back to the bedroom. The candles still flicker like dozens of little ghosts, and though you’ve disturbed some of the rose petals already, they still await you. Uncaring about them, Jungkook brings you back to the bed, and he helps you lay down before joining you, lying next to you. His hand rests flat on your stomach, and you share a timeless look of pure love and adoration.

An eternity with him… When did you get so lucky?

Jungkook must have seen the yearning in your gaze because he climbs back on top of you, his weight a comforting reminder of everything he is to you. Still hard, his dick lays on your pelvis, and you look down at yourselves long enough to watch him align himself with your entrance.

“Look at me,” he asks before he pushes in.

Like a moth to the flame, you’re unable to resist the dive in his eyes that follows. So you dive deep, one hand on his cheek and the other on his waist. And when he pushes all the way in, you whisper your love for him. He stills deep inside of you, and presses one kiss to the side of your face.

“You’re mine,” he breathes, voice heavy with emotion. “My wife.”

The words clang through you repeatedly. Like Echo is screaming them back to you, making sure they are carved into your bones and etched into your soul. You think they have been before, but hearing him say it makes it real, seals the deal until your souls truly unite to be just one. Until your love for him expands, growing bigger than the universe, encompassing everything that once was you and everything that will now be you, plural.

“My husband,” you whisper back.

“I love you.”

He slowly pulls out, and then he softly pushes back in as he rests his forehead against yours. There is so much love between you and him that you feel like you’re drowning in the bliss of him, like you’ll forever be changed by this moment in time.

In truth, you know he’s already forever changed you. And as he makes love to you slowly, languidly, sensually, kissing you long enough to remind you that you made it, that you fucking made it through all the hurdles, you know that you forever changed him, too.

And isn’t that beautiful? The power that one’s soul can have over another’s soul? The stars agree - they’ve always known about you and Jeon Jungkook. Happy, they shine in constellations for the two of you, slowly making place amongst their ranks. Because the astral bodies know one day they’ll welcome you in the night sky you love so deeply - two new stars, once stardust and now burning, for the eternity that is yours.

But first, you have a very long road ahead of you. And though life might take one of you before the other, your commitment to one another is endless - even if one of you shines up above before the other, you’ll always be with each other.

So when you’re finally spent after a night of love making, of promises and forevers whispered into one another’s ear, you listen to his heartbeat. You listen to it, your favourite melody, even before you knew its existence. It’s beautiful, simple - strong and steadfast. Mostly, it is yours.

Before you fall asleep, you offer him one last promise -

“I will always love you, Jeon Jungkook.”

☆☆☆☆☆

The End. I am crying rereading this, I can't believe I started this fic as a sequel to @daechwitatamic's What Was Hidden fic and now I'm 223.9k words later into a story that will forever hold a special place in my heart. What did you guys think of it? Was the end fitting for our favourite couple?

Taglist (strike-through means dumblr isn't letting me tag you):

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arlh0e · 3 months

Note

I'm not sure if you're taking requests but I figured I'd try. I've had the idea of Hozier/Andrew finding out you have an oral fixation/kink and using against you until you're a brain dead mess. I came to Tumblr to see if I could find anything but it surprisingly doesn't have a ton of Hozier fics considering he's basically everyone's dream man.

Anyway, thank you so much for reading this!!

Moments silence (common tongue)

Oh my god I love this idea! Im so glad Ive been getting smut requests because Im relatively new to smut writing so I adore being able to practice. My apologies in advance if this is super awkward to read bc I was having trouble trying to figure out how to describe homies dick. It also may turn out to be a little long, I am a whore for sucking dick so pardon me if I get excited and carried away.

Rating: Hozier x reader, graphic smut, hard dom! Andrew, oral m! And fem! Receiving, face fucking, the sloppiest of sloppy blowjobs, oral fixation, smut under the cut, general filth, plotless smut, reassurance, begging, choking, help I need him

You were squirming beneath him, his tongue and fingers working their usual magic.

He loved going down on you, your pleasure was his top priority every time that he took you to bed, he absolutely loved making you feel good.

You hadn’t told him that you had a similar affinity with giving him the same pleasure. Of course, he knew you loved the act of giving, but to what extent he wasn’t fully aware of.

If you were honest, it was almost concerning how constantly you were thinking about the feeling of your mouth around him. It made you so wet that you had ruined more pairs of underwear than you were comfortable admitting. He made your mouth water and your mind go nearly completely blank with anything other than want for him.

You feel his fingers move from inside of you, his head lifting to meet your eyes. His pupils are dilated and you can see your arousal covering his lips. He looked utterly enchanting.

His hand moves toward your bottom lip, tapping it softly twice. “Open.” His voice is deeper than normal and his accent has thickened. You opened your mouth and let him push his fingers into your mouth, tasting yourself on his skin. You find yourself sucking gently on his fingers, moving your tongue across his digits, wishing it were his cock in your mouth instead.

You let out a moan as his fingers leave your mouth, not even processing the words you were saying. “If you don’t let me suck your dick right now I may just lose my mind.” Your voice was coming out in gasps and moans, you were desperate, bordering on feral.

He quirked a brow at you, smiling smugly down at you. “Oh, is that right?” He presses a gentle kiss to your lips, pulling away just slightly so that you could still feel his breath across your face, your noses were still touching. “I was wondering when you were going to tell me about this little fixation you have with putting your mouth on me.” He chuckled darkly, looking at you through hooded eyes.

You couldn’t even say you were surprised at this revelation. Of course he knew. You expected nothing less, and honestly you hadn’t exactly been secretive about it, you hadn’t ever tried to hide it, so of course he knew.

He moved his head away from yours, his fingers coming to your chin, squeezing it gently. “I want you to beg.” His tone was serious, leaving no room to argue.

Your gaze shifted around the room, your eyes darting everywhere but his face as you felt the blush creep onto your face through your neck. You weren’t necessarily embarrassed, but you hadn’t ever told anyone about this particular interest of yours. The idea that he not only kew but was asking you to beg for it was entirely foreign to you. It made you squirm a bit beneath him.

“Ah ah.” He pulls a bit on your chin, forcing you to look back at him. “Eyes on me. Use your words.” His gaze was intense but encouraging, loving. He wanted to hear you ask nicely, but he also wanted you to feel comfortable. You knew he wouldn’t push you to do anything you didn’t want to.

“Please?” You looked up at him with wide eyes, batted your eyelashes just a little bit. “Pretty, pretty please?”

He chuckled a bit, smiling down at you, his mask cracking just a little bit. “With a cherry on top?” You loved the way he could go from this powerful, dominant being to his normal goofy self like this sometimes.

“Of a most delicious sundae.” You smile back at him, sticking your tongue out for a half second.

He just kept smiling down at you, his hold on your chin still firm. “Well I cant argue with that.” He stands, still clothed from the waist down, pulling you up to sit before him. Your hands stayed folded in your lap as you looked at him, standing before you, hands at his sides. “Go ahead, love.”

You slowly slip off the side of the bed and onto your knees in front of him. You could see the outline of his erection through his jeans, and you wondered for a second if that was uncomfortable. Surely it had to be.

You move your hands to fiddle with the button on his pants, frantically trying to undo the button and zipper. You always had a bit of trouble getting his hand pants all the way off of him, with how long his legs were, you couldn’t quite get them off, he always had to help you.

You took a moment to look at him, completely bare before you. He was beautiful, like a divine being come down to earth, and he was all yours.

You raise one hand to wrap it gently around his shaft while you used your tongue to wipe to bead of precum from his tip. The taste was salty and a bit bitter, but one you enjoyed nonetheless.

You carefully took him into your mouth, just a little bit at first, working up the nerve to try to go farther, moving slowly at first focusing on using your tongue to further his pleasure, hollowing your cheeks around him as you bobbed your head up and down along his length.

His hand flew to the back of your head, taking a fist full of your hair as his head leaned back and he let out a deep groan. He gently pushed on the back of your head, urging you to take him deeper and deeper.

You loved hearing the noises you could illicit from him, the way he gasped and tugged on your hair when you would moan in satisfaction around him, and you especially loved the louder sounds he would make for you, the way he would tell you how good you were doing and how good he felt. He was so vocal, and every word, noise, and gasp he made, pulled you in more.

“Fuck, you’re doing so good baby.” His voice was low and ever encouraging as he moved his hands through your hair, guiding your head along his cock at a relentless pace. You gagged, taking him farther than you had thought you were capable of.

You felt tears prickling your eyes as he kept bottoming out in the back of your throat, doing your best to keep your mouth closed but failing quite miserably as you continued gagging on him.

You found yourself struggling slightly to breathe between the saliva that was running down your chin and the pace at which he was hitting the back of your throat.

You moved your hand to tap frantically against his abdomen, wordlessly asking for a break to take a breath. After a few more thrusts, he backs away, his hands still in your hair, but granting you a break as he pulls gently on your hair to angle your head upward meeting his lips with yours.

You smile into the kiss, it was gentle, loving but urgent and nothing short of demanding. You moan into his lips, still smiling. As he pulls away, he makes a point out of observing the grin playing at your lips.

“So eager to please, darling.” He smiles darkly back at you, loosening his grip on your hair. He places another peck to your lips, then your forehead. “Do you want some more?” His gaze softened, looking down at you, smoothing your hair, a hint of concern in his eyes. He was making sure you were okay, checking in to make sure he wasn’t going too far or making you uncomfortable.

You nodded back at him, your smile not even faltering for a second. “Yes, please.” Your voice was raw, it felt like you had swallowed sand paper, and your voice cracked, but you didn’t even care. You wanted more of him. You wanted him to use you for his pleasure until you couldn’t speak or think or even breathe, and you were already halfway there.

You rose up higher on your knees, moving your hands to his hips, pulling him closer to you in an attempt to take him back into your mouth. You were met instead with a hand at the base of your neck, stopping you. You looked up at him with pleading eyes, begging him to let you have what you wanted.

He chuckled and moved his fingers to hold your chin once again, this time pulling you to your feet in front of him. “Uh uh. Lay down.” He removes his hand from your chin roughly, causing you to lose your balance and fall back onto the bed.

He makes his way around the bed to the side closest to your head, leaning over you, placing yet another kiss on your lips. “If you want me to stop, lap twice on my right thigh, alright?” You nod quickly, understanding where this is going, and quite eagerly scoot yourself to the end of the bed, your head dangling upside down over the side, your mouth falling open to welcome him.

He chuckles at your enthusiasm, moving his hands to rest on either side of your shoulders, bending himself over you as he pushes himself back into your mouth, deeper than before.

You let out a moan as the same time you hear him groan from over you. “Jesus fucking christ, love.” He curses, thrusting his hips into your mouth once again, starting slow and gradually picking up the pace.

He moves his hands to wrap around your neck, feeling himself move inside your throat. You were breathless, gasping in between his thrusts, chocking on his cock as well as your own saliva, gagging as he used you. Your hands were holding the backs of his thighs, pulling him closer to you, but also to ground yourself.

You were loving every moment of this. Relishing in the moment and the fact that you could deliver pleasure to him this way. You were utterly enchanted by him, his sounds, the curses he let out, the feeling of him moving in and out of your throat, you couldn’t think of any reason as to why you hadn’t told him this earlier.

With every second you could feel him coming closer, you also felt yourself becoming less and less able to think of anything but him. You were all but mindless, unable to form a single coherent thought, only embellishing in the feeling of his muscles, tensing all as once and then relaxing.

You tasted that same, familiar salty taste as you heard him breathlessly curse one final time before pulling out of your mouth and kneeling down next to your head.

You swallowed before offering him a dopey smile, still not fully in your right mind, high off the feeling of being useful to him.

He smiles back, standing up once again, this time to move you toward the pillows at the head of the bed, before laying himself next to you and gathering you in his arms.

“I take it we’ll be doing that again?” He smiles down at you and places a kiss to your forehead.

“Yes. A lot.” You giggle as you curl up into his arms, closing your eyes and letting his arms completely encase your frame.

Dom Andrew is my favorite Andrew to write tbh. Thank you for the request, hope you enjoyed it <3

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amiableness · 11 months

Text

At Last

pairing: jj maybank x fem!reader

summary: jj's cousin comes to town and attempts to get with y/n, pissing off jj in the process.

wc: 7.6k

warnings: dean turns out to be an ass, pet names (baby & sweetheart), oral (m & f), dirty talk, language, and p in v {there might be more, let me know!}

a/n💌: she's here! thank you for all your patience while i worked on this fic, hit some writers block while working on it. some of the smut might be familiar if you've read some of my old work, it's because i copied it from gentle. i will be deleting that fic and 'replacing' it with this one!

JJ Maybank couldn’t remember his childhood without Dean Maybank in it. There wasn’t a time he could recall when the nearly identical blonde wasn’t by his side. From diapers to teens, both boys spent most of their time together. Separated by only two months, the boys were practically brothers. There were mistaken for siblings nearly everywhere they went. Whenever one went, the other one was sure to follow. Their moms used to pretend they couldn’t tell the boys apart when they were little, sending both boys into a fit of giggles as they desperately tried to get their moms to remember their sons.

He was twelve when his mom left, and everything fell apart instantly. Luke turned to bottles upon bottles of alcohol to soothe the ache she left in her wake, and JJ was forced to grow up quickly. Andrew and Cecelia Maybank weren’t far behind, taking Dean with them. JJ never knew why his mom left or why his aunt and uncle followed him closely behind. But he was left alone to wonder for many nights why he was left behind.

JJ had years of practice burying the hurt and anger he felt, but as he sits across from his cousin at a table of The Wreck, he can feel the anger simmering. He’s not particularly fond of his cousin being back in town, but that’s not getting under his skin. It’s the fact that Dean has been eyeing you for the past twenty minutes.

“Wait, how long since you have been here?” Cleo asks Dean, attempting to break some awkward silence between JJ and him. Cleo slides into her chair next to Pope while she sends a welcoming smile to Dean, who sits across from Pope.

“Been a while, about seven years now.” Dean Maybank answers with a soft smile. He’s got the same blonde hair as JJ, but he keeps it a lot shorter and has dark blue eyes. They look like they could be twins.

“No wonder I haven’t met you then; I haven’t been around long.” Cleo supplies as Pope tosses his arm over her shoulder and presses a kiss to her temple.

“And Y/n?” Dean asks as he glances back over at you as you laugh with Kiara and Sarah while waiting for your order. Cleo’s lips part a little, and she spares a glance over at JJ, who has pulled his attention away from his phone at the mention of your name. His eyebrows are furrowed, and his body is tense as he stares down at his cousin. Dean doesn’t notice, his eyes glancing back at you.

“She joined the group about six years ago.” John B answers just as the three of you walk over with full hands. John B is sitting next to Dean, saving a spot for Sarah. From the look his best friend is giving him, he’s glad he sat next to Dean.

“Kiara, I love this place, but it’s so slow when you aren’t working here.” Sarah sighed as all the plates were set down and passed around. There’s a rumble of agreement at the table, and Kiara laughs loudly before sitting beside Sarah.

You slip into your spot between Cleo and JJ. JJ would never admit it out loud, but having you fall into the seat next to him and speak softly to only him sends a spark of possessiveness. He loves it when your attention is only on him.

“I got us a milkshake to share,” He watches as you rip the wrapper off the straw before pausing, eyes darting between the straw in your hand and the milkshake sitting in front of you. “They only gave us one; I’ll go grab-”

“We can share.” He grabs the straw from your hands before plunging it into the chocolate shake between you and taking a quick sip. You flush, realizing that you both will be sharing a straw. This wouldn’t bother you in any other case, but it’s JJ. You wouldn’t have thought twice about it if it had been anyone else. But something about him fills your stomach with that giddy feeling that makes you almost jittery with nerves.

His grip is still on the straw as he gives you a slight nod to take a sip. Your cheeks flush when you realize that he’s holding the drink, expecting you to take a sip like this. You lean forward, taking a tentative sip, ignoring how JJ watches you so closely. Having his eyes on you sets off that flurry of butterflies again.

“So cute, guys.” John B teases, making a heart with his hands, and your cheeks burn. You fight the urge to toss a fry at him. John B was notorious for calling out any moments you shared with JJ, which always left a hot flush on your body. Were your feelings for him that obvious? Did JJ know?

You peek over at JJ, who is flipping his best friend off.

The table is quickly drawn back into the conversation as your friends try and get to know Dean more. JJ stays quiet, instead choosing to eat and mutter things to you occasionally. You can’t help but be curious about why he avoids talking to his cousin. John B said that they used to be close, but from how JJ is acting now, you can’t help but wonder what happened.

“Y/n isn’t much of a surfer either.” Your ears perk up at the mention of your name. Sarah is giving you a pointed look indicating that you totally missed out on something.

“I was saying I’m not a big surfer,” Dean supplies at your confused expression. “Maybe we could do something else so everyone heads out to surf later.” The soft smile he sends your way makes your cheeks flush.

You open your mouth to answer, but JJ cuts you off.

“You used to surf all the time.” JJ’s tone is flat, surprising you that he finally decided to speak during this lunch. He had spent the last hour not saying a word to Dean. You glance over at him to see he’s sending an unimpressed look toward his cousin.

“Used to. Not anymore.” Dean shrugs, and you can tell he feels a little unsure around JJ, and you don’t blame him. If JJ was looking at you the way he was looking at Dean, you would feel a bit unwelcome too.

Ever the people pleaser, you send a smile over at Dean. “I would love that, Dean.”

“Dean Maybank is cute.” Sarah breathes out dramatically once all four of you are alone in her room. The boys are all at the Chateau; Cleo thought this might help JJ warm up to Dean more. You highly doubted it.

Your cheeks flush when you realize Sarah is directing this comment at you. You give a little shrug as you sit on the edge of her bed.

“Are you calling JJ cute then? Because they look like brothers.” Cleo teases as she pulls her bikini out of her bag. In front of the mirror, Kiara braided tiny pieces of her hair, laughing lightly at Cleo’s comment.

“Is that what we’re really gonna talk about right now?” You ask, feeling apprehensive about comparing the two. There’s no way you wanted to compare the two, mainly because you knew that JJ would always come out on top in your eyes.

“Yes! He seems pretty damn interested in you.”

“Maybe, but Dean isn’t the Maybank she wants.” Kiara sings songs, and your mouth parts as your sputter out a reply, but you can’t seem to deny it.

“I-no! JJ and I are just friends; we always will be.” You wanted to be sick saying these words.

“Are you serious? He looked ready to kill Dean when he asked you out.” Kiara glanced over her shoulder at you making your cheeks burn.

“He did not ask me out.”

“He made a move for sure,” Cleo called as she headed towards Sarah’s bathroom with her bikini. A sigh passed your lips just as the door clicked shut.

“Nothing is gonna happen whether he made a move or not.”

“Why not?” Sarah asked, tossing herself on her bed next to you.”

“I just-it feel wrong.”

“Because it’s not JJ,” Kiara states this like it’s the most obvious thing in the world as she finishes her hair and turns to face you. Sarah and Kiara nearly scream at the expression on your face, giving you away.

Maybe it was selfish, but JJ had been hoping you had forgotten about agreeing to spend time with Dean while the group went surfing. But here he was, watching the two of you walking up the beach and away from the group. Surfing with his friends meant you would be sat higher up on the beach immersed in one of the many romance books you owned.

Not this time. He watched as you walked away, this time as his cousin held your bag for you.

“JJ, you comin’ or what?” John B hollered. JJ sighed and headed towards the beach, aware that this was the first time in his life that he did not want to go surfing.

“It’s not a date, man; quit pouting.” His best friend mumbled, clapping JJ on the shoulder. The blond sent him an irritated look.

“But he damn well wants it to be,” The thought made JJ’s stomach tighten with discomfort. “She could want it to be.”

“I doubt it,” John B shook his head in disagreement. All the different times he had caught Y/n or JJ pining after each other had proved otherwise. But that wasn’t his place to tell. “Listen, if you like Y/n, you need to tell her. I’m not saying she’s gonna end up with Dean, but I know she won’t be single forever.”

“It’s complicated,” JJ grumbles as he rakes his hand through his hair. He needs a haircut but refuses to get one after he overhears you say you like long hair on guys. Maybe that makes him pathetic, but so be it.

“It’s really not; you’re just making it that way by avoiding telling her.”

“John B, fuck off,” JJ snaps, but his best friend knows not to take offense. “Telling her how I feel could mean losing her as my best friend, and that’s not worth it.”

“But what if telling her means you get her as your girlfriend and best friend?” John B’s words cause his stomach to flip at the thought.

“Wishful thinking, man.”

Your time with Dean was going well, and you were thrilled that you got on with him so quickly. Part of you wanted to ask, but you were scared of making a fool out of yourself if he told you no. Not that you were hoping it was; you just genuinely weren’t sure how Dean viewed this hangout.

He had taken you to a little ice cream shop, one that he said his mom used to bring him and JJ to all the time. Your heart had squeezed in your chest at the reminder that you weren’t there to watch him surf, one of your favorite pastimes. Quickly reminding yourself to enjoy the present moment, it was fair to Dean if your mind was caught up somewhere else.

“This is the best ice cream I’ve ever had; how did I not know about this place?” A quick moan of appreciation slips pasts your lips as you bite, proving your statement true. Dean laughs at your reaction, thrilled to see you enjoying one of his favorite places so much. The last time he was here was with his mom and JJ to have a quick treat after dinner. They left two days after that.

“One of the best places in OBX, hands down,” He replies, studying you with a soft fondness that you are oblivious to. Your entire focus was on stirring your ice cream to make it nice and smooth.

“Totally out of my comfort zone today,” You confess as you take another bite of the cotton candy ice cream. But the soft pink color was so pretty you just couldn’t resist. “JJ and I usually share mint chips.” Dean drops his eyes down to his ice cream at the mention of his cousin.

“Can I ask you something?” He finally asks, and you quietly hum to tell him to go on.

“Are you and JJ..?” He trails off, unsure if he should continue his question by the look on your face. You place your spoon in your bowl and sigh.

“We’re just friends,” By the shrug of your shoulders and the way you naw on your bottom lip, Dean can tell you aren’t a man of this.

“And you’re alright with that?” He asks, hoping for an answer that could turn this into a date between you.

“I-uh-” You clear your throat and glance at the window towards the ocean, hoping to catch a glance of JJ. To no avail. “I’ve liked him for years, but I’m pretty sure he isn’t interested, so we’re just friends.”

Dean gives you an understanding look, but inside, he’s thrilled about your answer. You weren’t JJ’s.

It had been a couple of weeks of hanging out with Dean: trips to the beach, talking about books, getting ice cream, and movie marathons. You knew how this looked, but it was purely just as friends. You knew that, and Dean knew that. Or so you thought.

“So let me get this straight, you guys have been going on dates pretty much but just as friends?” Cleo asked, totally confused by what was happening between you and Dean.

“Yes, just friends,” You clarified as you attempted to fix your hair in a way you liked for tonight’s party.

“He brought you flowers this morning.” She deadpanned, glancing over at the bouquet of pink poppies on your bedside table. They were placed next to a picture of you and JJ, making Cleo snort quietly.

“He was just being nice,” You sounded exasperated, and Cleo wasn’t sure if it was because of your hair or her nitpicking. “Nothing is going on.”

“Maybe for you! He’s clearly interested; he’s been taking you on dates -“You open your mouth to cut her off. “Yes - dates, all week. He’s interested.”

“I thought you were team Dean.” Your hair fell from your hands as you gave up on making the perfect bun; it just wasn’t going to happen tonight.

“That was Sarah. I’m team whoever makes you happy.”

“So, would you be happy if I went out with Dean?” You nibbled on your bottom lip as you waited for her response. Her eyebrows rose, and she stared at you for a second.

“Thought you were just friends.”

“We are! I just-“You paused, taking in a big breath of air and holding it for a second. “I don’t wanna miss a chance with a great guy because JJ doesn’t return my feelings. I can’t hold out hope forever.”

“First party of the summer, Dean! You excited?” John B asks as he presses a beer into Dean’s awaiting palm.

“It’s not the first party of the season,” JJ grumbles, and you shoot him a look, hoping he can control his anger towards his cousin for the night and enjoy the party.

“The first one he’s been to; he’s been too busy with our Y/n here.” John B taunts, sending you a wink when he sees you looking flushed. JJ feels sick. Are you blushing at the thought of being with Dean? Have you actually been going on dates with him all this time?

“Baby, leave them alone,” Sarah admonishes, giving a light slap to his arm. He lets out a laugh and drops his arm over her shoulder, leading her in the direction of the house.

An awkward silence falls over the three of you. Pope, Kiara, and Cleo had already headed inside to get drinks, and you were now desperately wishing JJ had too. Anything would be better than the way he is currently glaring at Dean for standing too close to you.

“Want a drink?” Dean leans to whisper in your ear, and you send him a grateful smile.

“Yes, please,” You smile up at him, watching him for a second longer as he slips through the crowd. JJ clearing his throat is what brings your attention away from him.

“Yes?”

“What are you doing with him?” He asks, taking a step towards you.

“We walked here together, and I-”

“No. What’s up with you spending so much time with him? I’ve hardly seen you in the last few weeks.” He steps closer and closer until the two of you are standing so close you can count all the freckles on his nose.

“We’ve been hanging out.” You supply, not wanting to give too much away. It’s not that we’re trying to be secretive, but you knew that JJ had a habit of getting protective over you. Guess what happens when you’re friends with someone for so long.

“Hanging out or going on dates?” His hand pushes the stand of your hair, blowing in the breeze. At the proximity of him, your heart squeezes, and your breath catches.

“Hanging out?” You answer in nearly a whisper, so focused on starting up at him. The heat of his fingers touching your skin feels like you have been branded.

“You don’t sound so sure.” There’s that cocky tone. He can tell you’re flustered by how close he is to you. You’ve always reacted to him this way. It’s moments like these where it doesn’t seem unbelievable to him that you might like him back.

“We’ve been hanging out, but it might be becoming more and-”

“Y/n” At the sound of Dean’s voice, you take a step away, startled. There’s a tone to Dean’s voice that JJ doesn’t like. He sounds possessive, too possessive for a guy who has only met you a couple of weeks ago.

Dean’s eyes flicker between the both of you, quickly picking up on the tension and closeness. In an act of jealousy, he slips his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side, something he’s never done before. Your features flash with surprise that JJ quickly notices.

“Have a goodnight, JJ.” Dean bites out before steering you toward the direction of the house.

“I thought you said that you and JJ didn’t have anything going on.”

“We don’t.” You glance up at Dean, who still has his arm wrapped around your shoulder. His jaw is tense, and you feel a flash of discomfort at seeing this new side of him.

“Didn’t look that way. He was close enough to kiss you.” Dean grits out, squeezing your shoulder that makes you wince.

“But he didn’t. I don’t understand-”

“You said that he wasn’t interested. I thought I clarified my intentions when I started taking you out on all these dates.” Your stomach flips, and you glance around at the crowd. None of your friends are nearby.

“I didn’t-“You clear your throat, willing yourself to make your voice come out stronger. His shift in personality has really thrown you off. “I thought we were hanging out. I didn’t realize you thought these past few weeks were dates.”

“They were dates, Y/n. Does John B or Pope ever take you- just you - out for ice cream or to the movies?”

“No, but JJ-”

“Jesus, Y/n! JJ doesn’t view you as a friend. If we’re gonna be dating this summer, I don’t think you should hang out around him.” You were utterly confused. There was never a time when you two were hanging out. Did he act like this or make his intentions about dating you clear. And there was absolutely no way you would give up being around JJ, even if Dean’s attitude hadn’t done a 180.

You were beginning to panic, unsure how to handle his growing anger.

“Dean!” Your shoulders immediately relaxed at the sound of another Pogues voice. You were sure his name was Noah, and that he was friends with the boys, but other than that, you didn’t really know him. You watched as Dean plastered a smile on his face and greeted his friend. Without warning, you slipped away from Dean and slipped through the crowd towards the bathroom.

Usually, a party like this is just what JJ needed, but his mood was much too sour to enjoy it. Not when you had shown up with Dean and disappeared into this run-down house on the Cut nearly an hour ago. He has tried desperately to shake you from his thoughts. But nothing has worked in the past couple of weeks, so he has spent this entire night pathetically sober and on edge.

John B and Pope had tried to include him in the conversation with other guys from the Cut, but he didn’t have the energy to pretend to be interested. So instead, he sat next to the fire along the group and continuously glanced back at the door as if somehow he could keep an eye on you that way.

Dean’s voice catches his attention and pulls him from his thoughts of you. Dean comes jogging down the steps carrying a beer and quickly finds an open seat amongst the guys. JJ ignores the urge to tell him his seat is taken; it feels too middle school.

“Where is she?” JJ asks, sounding terribly protective, but he can’t help it. He’s sat rigid in his seat, waiting for his cousin’s answer. He wouldn’t have left you alone at that party even for a second if he was with you.

“She wanted to spend some time with the girls.” Dean looks flatly at JJ, both boys growing frustrated with each other. Dean is becoming sick of JJ only acknowledging him when it has to do with you. He doesn’t want JJ’s thoughts to be of you at all. The tension between the two is glaringly apparent to the group, so Pope incessantly glances at the house door for about twenty minutes before JJ incessantly glancing at the house door finally pays off.

There you were.

Standing on the porch with tears streaming down your pretty cheeks and arms wrapped protectively around your stomach. JJ felt his stomach drop and the immediate desire to kill whoever made him feel like this. But it seems his cousin has the same desire because both boys stand up at the sight of you.

Dean is the first to step towards you, softly muttering your name. You don’t even glance in Dean’s direction. It isn’t until he repeats your name again, louder this time, that you finally look over at him.

JJ watches as you descend the steps, whip away a stray tear on your face, and stand a couple feet before the group of boys. You don’t take your eyes off Dean, and JJ prepares to watch Dean take you home and knows he will comfort you.

“I just wanna go home,” JJ doesn’t think he has ever heard you so broken up, and it makes him feel physically sick. “Can you please take me home?”

Dean immediately turns to grab his jacket that it tossed over one of the logs he was sitting on. “Of course, let me just-”

Then, you make eye contact with JJ, and the brief eye contact causes your eyes to tear up again. Without thinking, JJ jogs over and wraps you in his arms.

JJ has hugged you plenty of times, but he doesn’t think he’s ever felt you hold him this tight. Your arms are tossed around his shoulders as his arms are looped around your waist. Dean turns, ready to take you home, and falters when he sees you wrapped in JJ’s arms.

“JJ, I’ve got her. She asked me to take her home.” Dean’s voice is flat, and you tense in JJ’s arms. Hoping to get a look at Dean, you pull away from JJ slightly so you can look over at him. While hugging JJ, both of you had shifted so JJ’s back was no longer to the group. Instead, Dean has a clear shot of both sides and how you and JJ are so intertwined. He feels sick watching you grip JJ so tightly.

“I was talking to JJ.” At this, JJ’s grip tightens around you as a possessive feeling strikes through him. He wants to be smug; rub it in Dean’s face that you chose him. But he would much rather get you home and figure out why you were so upset.

You turn your head, looking up at him, with his shirt clenched between your fists. Looking down at you, he can see the tears glistening in your eyes. “JJ, I want you to take me home.”

“I know, baby. Let’s go home.” He places a gentle kiss on your forehead and leads you in the direction of the Chateau.

It wasn’t until you got to the Chateau that you finally let JJ know that happened, and he had been pacing around his bedroom ever since.

“I’m gonna kill him,” JJ practically grits out, his jaw so tense from anger.

“No, you’re not,” You sniffle as you stay wrapped up in JJ’s hoodie and sheets. The second you had reached his room, you climbed into his bed, you’re ultimate comfort place. There were so many times when you ended up in JJ’s bed, feeling wholly protected just by being next to him.

“Y/n, he acted like you were his. He didn’t even ask you! He was-fuck!” The bed squeaks as JJ tosses himself down at the bottom edge of the bed. His head is buried in his hands, and you can see the tension in his back. You slip out from beneath the covers and crawl towards him without saying anything. He tenses when he feels you wrap your arms around him and rest your head on his shoulder, but then he shifts to hold you to him.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with men in my family.”

“You don’t have to apologize; you’re the only Maybank man I care about.” JJ nearly melts at the kiss you place on his cheek.

“Y/n.”

“JJ.”

“This wouldn’t have happened if I had told you sooner.”

“Told me what sooner?”

“About my feelings for you.” Your heart feels like it has given out when you hear him say this.

“No.” Your voice is a whisper as you look up at him.

“No?” His voice is just as soft as yours.

“That isn’t fair to put on yourself; Dean did what he did because he’s a dick.”

“I should have told you that I’ve been in love with you for a long that I can’t even remember when it started. It feels like I’ve loved you from the moment I saw you. I’ve loved you so for so fucking long, and I never told you,” He pauses, tucking a stray hair behind your ear like he did earlier in the night.

“I never thought I’d have a shot with you, and then I saw you with Dean. God, Y/n, I wanted to kill him. He had everything I ever wanted,” A soft sigh leaves his lips, and you simply watch him, your stomach fluttering at his confession.

JJ, you sigh, “Everyone knew my feelings about you; I don’t know how you didn’t. Why do you think I was always the first to clean you up after a fight? I would always share the couch with you if I had to. Not like it was a problem for me. I invited you to stay at my house; when have I ever invited Pope or John B to stay in my bed? I’ve always liked you, J, and always will.”

He stared at you as you talked, and you moved closer to him, taking a chance, sitting in his lap, and interlocking your hands behind his neck. His hands quickly found your waist and held you in his lap.

“I’ve always been in love with you,” You whispered softly, too nervous to say the words too loud, worried you might scare him off despite his previous comments. He didn’t say anything at first, simply tugging you into his chest so you had your legs wrapped around his waist as you hugged him. He pulled back to look at you, and your stomach flipped when you saw how he looked at you.

As close as you and JJ always were as friends, you had never been this close as you stared at him. Your heart was racing to see him stare at you like he found you stunning; he had never looked at you like this before. If he had, you had never gotten to see it.

“J?”

“Yea?”

“Can you kiss me?” When his lips meant yours, it wasn’t rough, or fast-it was gentle and soft-like he wanted to take all his time in the world with you. He brushed his lips against yours, slipping his hands into your hair. Relishing in the feeling of you pressed against him. His lips were soft and slow against yours, making you melt into him. Of all the times you had pictured kissing him, it had been quick and heated. But as he laid you down and pressed gentle kisses to your lips and neck, you preferred this to your fantasies.

He brushed his lips against yours, mumbling about how much he loved kissing you, making you smile against his lips. His hands trailed all over your body, barely touching against your skin, but enough to leave goosebumps behind. When he reached your hips, he would give a gentle squeeze. Sitting up, he used an arm to bring you up with him. You had waited so long to kiss JJ; now that you were, you didn’t want it to stop. His hands trailed along your thighs as you sat in his lap, leading the kiss.

“Arms up, baby,” He told you as he pulled your sweatshirt over your head, tossing it to the ground. Watching his eyes raking up and down your body made you dizzy. You let his eyes take in your body before tugging at the hem of his shirt, silently telling him that you wanted it off. This was your chance to admire his body’s dips and curves. There was never a time that you could admire him up close, and that you had, you never wanted to stop. You knew he was muscular from the countess times you had watched him surf and walk around shirtless, but getting to touch him this way was entirely different. Being alone meant you didn’t have to worry about your friends catching your longing looks; there was no John B to relentlessly tease you. Just you and JJ.

“You’re fucking beautiful,” He said as he slipped his fingers under your white bra straps and let them fall down your shoulders.

“Thank you, you’re pretty beautiful too,” Your voice teased as you threw your arms around his neck. Quickly, he leaned forward to kiss you, not wanting to waste another second without tasting you.

“Damn right,” He mumbled, making you giggle. You were about to reach around your back to rid yourself of your bra when he stopped you.

“That’s my job from now on,” He shot you a cocky grin and pushed your hands away from your bra to do it himself. He reached one hand around you, and you felt your bra drop.

“One hand, baby,” He joked. You laughed loudly, remembering that JJ and John B had borrowed yours and Kiara’s bras years ago, hoping to learn to do it one-handed. They eventually did know after you and Kiara stepped in to teach them.

“Pure fucking talent,” You sarcastically answered him, but he wasn’t really listening anymore. He groaned when he saw your bare tits and perky nipples. Your mind blanked as you heard the noise that came from him.

His mouth closed around your nipple, biting gently, ripping a gasp from your throat. Their back arched into his chest to give him better access. He wrapped an arm around your waist to pull you closer to him. Beneath you, you could feel how quickly this was turning his hair wild from when you had your fingers through his hair. Soft sighs were filling the room as he licked and sucked, alternating between both of your tits. The wetness between your legs grew more apparent as he touched you.

He grabbed your waist and moved you off of his lap, pushing you down so that you were laid out underneath him. His hands slipped under the waistband of your shorts, tugging them down, bringing your underwear with them. Your first reaction was to close your legs; you were not used to having someone see you like this. But he gently placed his hands on your knees and pushed them apart.

You sat up as he stood at the end of his bed, slipping his shorts down. Oh fuck. Wetness pooled between your thighs as his cock was released from his underwear. You had always wondered whether he would be big or small, and you weren’t surprised he was in the bigger size. A quick kiss was placed on your lips before he touched your chest, pushing you back on the bed. With your back against the pillows and your legs spread, he finally got to look at all of you. All bare and glistening, and he swore he had never been harder in his life. He glanced up at you, asking for permission, and you nodded. Pressing kisses from your ankles to between your thighs, he slowly made his way to where you wanted him most.

“God baby, you’re soaked for me,” You could only answer with a whimper as he slipped his fingers over your clit, causing you to arch your back. He was slow as he began to circle your clit, adding fingers to pump in and out of you.

The moan you let out was pornographic when he replaced his fingers with his mouth, letting his tongue slide along your pussy. From the bottom to the top, he licked through your folds. You could feel yourself dripping down your thighs, but you knew he wouldn’t if you asked him to go faster; he seemed pleased to take things slowly and gently.

“Your pussy tastes so good, it could eat you out for hours,” He mumbled against you, causing you to moan loudly. Your fingers twisted in the sheets as you continued licking and sucking your clit, bringing you closer to your orgasm. Your legs began to shake, and you were momentarily embarrassed. It had been months since you were last touched, and without warning, JJ between your thighs was bringing you to your orgasm embarrassingly quick. Without warning, he pulled away from you, leaving you a little confused.

“Lay at the end of the bed,” You were still shaky, but you did as you were told and glanced up at him, kneeling at the foot of his bed. He kissed your lips before standing up, and you realized what he had in mind.

You watched as he grabbed his cock between his hand and guided it into your mouth. The moan that left his mouth as he felt your mouth had you squeezing your thighs together.

“Holy fuck, you look so pretty like this,” Desperation laced through his voice, making you feel entirely feral for him. You were willing to do anything that he told you to do.

His hands were in your hair as he created a makeshift ponytail to hold you in place as he fucked your mouth. Youhines were muffled b cock, and from the sounds that were leaving him, you could tell he was enjoying this. A quick peek up at him let you know just how good he was feeling. The flush on his cheeks and his furrowed eyebrows were your indicators.

You pulled away from him with a pop, leaving a trail of salvia attaching you to him, “I need you to fuck me; I’ve waited too long to do this.”

Your voice sounded incredibly desperate as you begged him. He said nothing, just leaned down to kiss you before reaching beside the bed. He dug around in his shorts before grabbing a condom from his wallet. You sent him a soft smile and laid your back against the pillows, waiting for him. He sat before you, then situated himself between your legs and used his arms to hold himself above you. He looked down at you, and you sent him a giggly smile.

“I love you, J,” You told him, causing him to gently lean down and kiss you.

“I love you, baby,” He whispered against your lips, sending butterflies throughout your stomach.

He sat up, grabbing your thighs with both hands, moving your legs so that you could slip between them. Your knees were bent, and your legs were on either side of him as he brushed his fingers against your clit again.

“God, you have the prettiest pussy I have ever seen,” His simple words caused a gasp to be pulled from you.

His cock replaced his fingers, teasing your clit before sliding the tip inside you. At the feeling, both of you let out satisfied moans. JJ quickly grabbed your hands and intertwined your fingers before fully pushing inside of you slowly. “Jesus Christ,” He was nearly gone. “So fucking good.” All you could do was moan in response.

His thrusts began slow, sliding in and out of you at an agonizing pace, making you cry out at him to go faster. He didn’t listen.

“You look so pretty getting fucked,” He reached his hand down, using his thumb to rub against your clit in the slowest circles. “You’re doing such a good job, sweetheart.”

If you hadn’t been so fucked out, you would’ve been embarrassed at hearing how wet you were desperately cried a pathetic, moaning as he quickly flipped you over and grabbed get enough of you.”

When he slipped out of you, you desperately cried in protest. But he was quick to flip you over and grab your hips, pulling you onto all fours. He gave your hips a gentle squeeze and placed a few kisses on your shoulder. Your skin prickled with goosebumps as he ran his fingers down your spine. Lifting yourself up so your back was pressed against him and your neck was exposed so he could press kisses against you. His arms slid around your waist, his right hand going up to grab at your tits as he nipped at your neck. Your legs felt shaky as he held you up and against him. The moans that filled your ears being this close to him drove you crazy. You didn’t think you would ever get used to hearing him like this. So fucked out and close to coming.

“Fuck J, please go harder.”

“You want me to fuck you harder, baby?” You babbled incoherently in response, making JJ grin.

“Beg me, sweetheart.”

“Fuck, JJ! Please, I need more of your cock. I want you to take me, be rough with me.”

He pushed you forward, forcing you back on all fours. You let out a loud ‘fuck’ when he shoved his cock back into you, not sure how long you could hold yourself up. His hands gripped your hips tightly, keeping you in place, and he slid his cock in and out of you, the room filling with both of your moans.

“Is that what you wanted, baby? Wanted to fucked rougher?”

As he quickened his pace, you stuck your ass in the air and pressed your cheek against the bed, raising your arms above your head as he fucked you. Your fingers were tangled in the sheets, and you knew the neighbors could probably hear you. Out of all the times you had been with a guy, you didn’t think you had ever been this loud. Each time he thrust into you, you let out a high-pitched moan, unable to stop yourself.

His name and curses fell through your lips, and you got closer and closer to coming. You knew you would come quicker than you usually would since you had spent years fantasizing about JJ. You had spent countless nights getting off to the thought of getting to be with JJ, and if you knew him at all-he did too.

“Fuck JJ, I’m getting close,” You whined, your voice shaky as he pounded into you. “Gonna cum!”

“Fuck. Cum on my cock, sweetheart,” you knew you could let go with him. You could tell by his quickened pace and sloppy thrusts.

When you felt him grab your hips hard and pound into you a few more times, you knew you could let go with him.

“JJ! Fuck, I-”

“I know, fuck. I’m gonna cum.” that admission, your back arched as you felt your pussy squeeze around him. The moans leaving you were beyond loud, and you hoped to God none of your friends had decided to come back from the party.

“Fuck.” He grunted as he thrust one final time into you before squeezing your hips tightly. The feeling of him switching inside you sent you over the edge. You let go, pleasure coursing through you as you felt your whole body shake as the feeling shot through your entire body.

“Jesus, baby,” JJ mumbled as his head dropped to your back. You let out a giggle, understanding how fucked out he was feeling.

He slowly slid out, falling onto the bed next to you. You let your hips drop, moving so that you were on your side facing him. You were both breathing hard and knew you would need a shower and clean sheets after this.

“God, I love you.” He kisses your head before standing up and heading into your bathroom. You hear him come back after a few minutes.

“Turn over, baby.” You turn to see him with a warm washcloth; he slowly moves your legs apart and cleans up the mess between them. Your heart melts as you watch him take care of you. Once he’s done, he tosses the rag and lays beside you; you move so that you’re lying against his chest, and he throws his blanket over the both of you.

“JJ?”

“Yea, sweetheart?”

“Thank you for taking me home.”

“Be fucking quiet; you’re gonna wake her up.” JJ snapped, sending a glare over at John B. It was nearly 9 am, and they were the only two awake, the rest of the group fast asleep after the party.

“I am being fucking quiet, dumbass.”

“I don’t need her finding out what happened this morning,” He grumbled, glancing down at his bruised and bloody knuckles. John B’s snort caught his attention, and he glanced up at his best friend, who was looking at his hand.

“Like that won’t give it away?”

“I’ll just say I got into it with some kooks.”

“You’re gonna lie to her?” John B sent him an unimpressed look.

“Jesus, John B! I don’t know what I’m gonna tell her yet.”

“Tell her the truth. That you beat the shit out of our cousin for her,” He shrugged like it was the most straightforward option. “Where is she anyway? Did you take her home?”

JJ faltered at that question, the memories of last night running through his head. He still needed to update John B that your friendship had been properly ruined. But he didn’t know what the two of you were now. Were you dating? Casually seeing each other for now? That was something that he should clear up soon.

“No, she’s uh-“His door creaked, and you were wrapped in his sheets. Your hair was a mess, a couple of marks littered your neck, and your eyes were squinted with sleep.

“J?” You called quietly, and JJ nearly melted. How did he get so lucky? How did this angel have feelings for him? “Can you come back? I miss you.”

You must have been delirious with sleep and not have even noticed John B because there was no way you would’ve felt comfortable looking and speaking this vulnerably in front of him any other time.

“Yea, baby. I’ll be there.” You sent him a sleepy smile and closed the door. JJ nearly jumped up from his spot to get to you.

“Baby?” John B let out, sounding incredibly smug and wearing a grin. “Looks like you finally told her.”

JJ didn’t say anything; he just flipped him off with a smug smile as he closed the door to his bedroom and slipped into bed with you.

“Hi,” He quietly greeted as he settled into his pillow facing you.

“Why’d you leave?” Your voice was laced with sleep as you scooted closer to him.

“I went and saw Dean,” He felt you tense in his arms, and for a second, he wondered if he had made the wrong decision by telling you. He would never regret punching his cousin for the way he treated you.

“J, what did you do?”

“I punched him, and I know you aren’t a fan of that, but-“His words were cut off by pressing your lips to his.

“Thank you, he deserved it,” You quietly mumbled before snuggling back into his chest.

JJ had never loved you more.

#jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank #jj maybank smut #jj x reader #jj maybank imagine #outer banks jj #jj x y/n #jj maybank fluff #jj x you #rudy pankow #rudy pankow x y/n #rudy pankow x reader

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adamsrcnan · 1 year

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I'm getting a little teary eyed thinking about how, because of Neil, Andrew gets to experience a soft and gentle love where all his boundaries and traumas are respected. I think it says so much that Neil was basically raised on the run by a mother who ensured he only ever looked out for himself, and his own needs, and yet Neil doesn't ever once think about crossing Andrew's boundaries.

He creates such a safe space for Andrew that eventually he doesn't even have to ask Andrew for permission to touch him bc Andrew is comfortable and secure enough to allow it because he KNOWS Neil will never harm him. Neil provides an outlet for all of Andrew's love to spill out freely without him ever having to worry and i find that so goddamn beautiful.

Like i don't think Andrew probably ever thought he'd get to a point in his life where he'd be living in domestic bliss with a lover and pets. Yet Neil stumbled into his life and gave that to him. He gave him safety, and trust, and comfort. Neil gave Andrew a quiet after the storm he probably thought would never leave him!!!

#was just thinking about neil getting andrew off the first time and how nora said his hands were tembling #but andrew didn't know if it was restrained murder or relief #well i choose to believe it was relief!!!#relief bc andrew made it through something that made him vulnerable #relief that he was okay #relief that Neil helped him experience something he never thought he could have #like i find it overwhelming just thinking about it #i can't imagine how something like that FEELS #neil loves him so beautifully !!!!!#andrew minyard #neil josten #andreil #all for the game #aftg #the foxhole court #tfc

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teaforce-steph · 1 year

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Seems harmless enough, just put him out the back.

Conversation I had with my partner last week:

"What kind of spider would each of the characters in Trigun be?"

(I put our answers under the cut, but feel free to share your own for the fun of it)

Vash - Daddy-longlegs: Lanky, goofy, fleeing from humans 24/7, subject of many myths and false accusations.

Wolfwood - St Andrew's Cross: Huge cross, 10 points for style and effort. Pretty chill.

Milly - Huntsman: Big friend, gentle giant, high intimidation stat. Concern spikes when she's no longer visible.

Meryl - Redback: Small, kinda grumpy, packing way too much heat.

Knives is a wasp (the kind that kills spiders with ease)

#Just a little guy #Vash #Vash the stampede #Trigun #Trigun 98 #spider #insect #tw spider #nearly shattered my 2nd glass this week for the reference #art #illustration #sketch #Teaforce Art

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bealovesmarauders · 1 year

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paper rings // gilbert blythe

or,

the 4 times gilbert blythe fell in love with you, and the 1 time he knew he’d do it all over again

⋆ ࣪. ⁺⑅ ⋰˚ *.ﾟ .˳⁺⁎˚ ˚⁎⁺˳ . ༺ ˖

gilbert blythe x fem!reader

wc: 5.7k

i like shiny things, but i’d marry you with paper rings

a/n: trying something new here! i’ve never used this format (five times // one time- i tweaked it to make it four and one since i’m exhausted) so i hope you all enjoy <3 also fair warning that this is not historically accurate. but i actually spend my summers in PEI (and have for my entire life) so i think my portrayal of the environment at least is good! also, this is rushed as per usual :)

⋆ ࣪. ⁺⑅ ⋰˚ *.ﾟ .˳⁺⁎˚ ˚⁎⁺˳ . ༺ ˖

one. when he walked you home from school.

the late june air was sticky in the avonlea schoolhouse, clinging to skin, beads of sweat gathering by brows. sunlight spilled through the windows, and even billy andrews couldn’t muster enough enthusiasm to tease anyone in this heat. pinafores too heavy for this weather, the girls gathered in one corner, pretending to read the excerpt mr phillips had picked out for today, but in honesty, you were all just complaining about the summer heat.

“i can’t wait until i have my hair up,” ruby gillis sighed, casting a longing glance across the room towards the boys. “my ribbon does suit my complexion, of course- but it’s much too hot in summer to have my hair down.”

murmurs of agreement spread throughout your little group. “i tried it one time,” whispered anne dramatically, “when marilla was away. it was rather romantic, but the pins hurt a great deal.”

sitting in between jane andrews and tillie boulter, you tried not to zone out. gaze drifting across the classroom, you caught gilbert blythe’s eye from where he was sitting with the boys, and he shot you a quick smile. you gave him a shy one back, and looked away before you could blush. you’d known gilbert forever- his family was close to yours- but something had changed recently, and you couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

mr. phillips finally dismissed the class, and in a rush of rowdiness, the boys all excused themselves from the schoolhouse, whooping and hollering about a potential skinny dip in the wild waves. in a flurry of giggles and secrets, your friends gathered their books and rushed outside (in a rather unladylike manner- but it was summer and the world was their oyster, so who cared). you knew diana was hosting a tea party over the weekend- complete with ice cream, she’d said!- but as far as you knew, there were no plans for tonight, save the beach trip the boys had talked about. trying your best to avoid the heat for as long as possible, you lingered in the coatroom, taking the time to adjust your hat into place. but you weren’t alone, and you startled as a familiar face appeared over your shoulder.

“gilbert,” you said, his name sweet on your tongue. “you’re not going to the beach with billy?”

he shook his head. “i’m not quite in the mood for that today. but i was wondering. do you want- can i- would you like some company on your walk home?”

heart in your throat, you looked at the boy you’d known your whole life. was gilbert blythe asking to walk you home? you nodded wordlessly, and his eyes immediately softened. there was a nervousness you’d never seen in him before, a cautiousness, as if he were treading on eggshells and was terrified to break them. “i- i’d love that, gilbert, thank you.” a smile slowly spread across his face, and you seemed to see him in a new light. noticing the things you hadn’t before. the softness of his dark eyes and the way they sparkled. the gentle curve of his jaw. the way he smelled like rosemary and mint soap and the blythe farm’s apple orchard, mixed with a hint of cinnamon. the way gilbert blythe was the prettiest boy you’d ever seen.

“great,” he said, finally breaking you out of your reverie. “i wouldn’t want you to get heatstroke, after all. it’d be ungentlemanly of me to let you go home without making sure you’re alright in this heat.”

your stomach erupted with butterflies, and you walked in silence with him as you left the schoolhouse. treading along the path, your footsteps settled into the same rhythm, and eventually gilbert spoke, his voice clear among the songbirds and crickets.

“how’s your family? i haven’t seen them in a fortnight.”

his tone was proper and gentlemanly, but curious and kind. you looked shyly up at him. gilbert was tall, taller than you, sturdy with broad shoulders and a grin that showed off a lopsided roguishness once in a while on his otherwise serious face. you gripped your books a little tighter, trying to focus your thoughts back to the conversation. “they’re good, thanks for asking. mother’s been wondering about you, though. she’s wanted to drop soup off for your father, but wasn’t sure if he’d appreciate it. it’s been a while since you were over, so she doesn’t know if he still likes biscuits or bone broth.”

gilbert scuffed the ground with his boot a little bit, looking down at you contemplatively. “that’s kind of her,” he said. “he’s barely been able to keep anything down, but he likes soup. i’m not sure about the biscuits, but i’d certainly like some. i wouldn’t mind some of your mother’s plum preserves either. i haven’t had much time to go into town for food lately.”

you’d noticed. there were shadows under his eyes, and he’d always been on the lanky side, but since gilbert had taken on more of the farm work you’d observed his cheeks grow more drawn. his muscles had grown, too- another result of all the wood chopping you knew he was doing- but he lacked energy, and your heart ached for the boy. cicadas chirped as you walked in unison through the path, minding the garden snakes slinking through the tall grass, and an idea sparked in your mind as you passed the field signaling close to home.

“gilbert,” you said thoughtfully, stopping in your tracks. “mother was going to make a layer cake today, with raspberry preserves and clotted cream. i’m sure it’s cooled by now. we can have a little picnic, you and i- we have lemonade at home too, that rachel lynde brought us, and father thinks it’s too tart, so he wants to get rid of it. you can bring some home for your father as well. mother wouldn’t mind, i promise- i can make us a picnic basket, and we can sit in that field.”

gilbert turned towards you, and you couldn’t quite decipher the expression on his face. “i don’t want you to pity me,” he said quietly. “much less drag your family into it.”

“no, no,” you said quickly, fearing he’d interpreted your invitation the wrong way. “just a picnic, to catch up, as friends. we haven’t talked in a while. i miss you.”

he bit his lip. you could almost see the gears turning in his head. “alright,” he said finally. “it’s almost summer, after all. i think- i think i’d like that.”

when you reached your house, your mother was more than happy to oblige, giving gilbert a big hug and fussing over how much taller he’d gotten since the last time she saw him. you cut two pieces of cake and put them on plates in the straw picnic basket along with the bottle of mrs. lynde’s infamous lemonade. your mother even let you bring the crystal glasses used for special occasions- she trusted the both of you well enough to know that you wouldn’t break them. covering up the basket with a red checkered tablecloth, you and gilbert set off again, waving goodbye to your mother and finding a spot in the field where there was a tree with enough shade to sit under. clover and goldenrod and cornstalk bloomed in the field, and the cool, sweet grass tickled the bottom of your dress. gilbert, beside you, leaned back against the tree, his broad shoulder touching yours, and spooned a large amount of cake into his mouth. it was the happiest you’d seen him in months. the thin layer of ruby jelly in between the vanilla layers coloured the cupid’s bow of your lips, and gilbert realized in that moment that he wanted very badly to take you into his arms and kiss you. but the moment was fleeting, and gilbert was left with the idea of love lingering on his mind.

that was the first time gilbert blythe realized he was falling for you.

two. when you showed up on his doorstep in the rain.

rain poured outside, streaking the windows and trickling down the roofs of avonlea’s houses. sorrow hung in the air, and black clothing had dominated the church the day prior. it was not often that avonlea had funerals, and when they were, they were a somber affair, impacting every one of its citizens. especially now. it seemed as though the whole world had watched mr. blythe’s casket descend into the soil, and now the rain was fertilizing it. perhaps flowers would bloom on top of his grave. the entirety of the little town hoped so- anything to bring comfort to the blythe’s only son.

you’d seen gilbert at the funeral, features etched with sorrow, tears brimming at the corners of his eyes. but he’d looked resigned as well- putting on a strong face for those who could not. ruby had sobbed hysterically, as had rachel lynde, and even marilla cuthbert had shed a tear. normally, you would have talked to gilbert. you’d been over the day before mr. blythe had died, bringing with you a sweater you and your mother had knit together to help keep him warm. you’d known his health was declining, but it was even more heart wrenching seeing gilbert that way- expression unmoving, body stiff as he accepted the gift. you’d only had a moment with him before mr. blythe erupted into coughs again- a second in which gilbert’s mask slipped and you truly saw the fear plaguing his mind. you’d wished you could have said something to make it all better. but you hadn’t. you couldn’t.

and now you were on his porch, clutching a package of baking soda biscuits and a small posy of forget-me-nots in your hands. you were shivering from the cold rain, and you’d gotten soaked on the way over, but it was worth it. there seemed to be barely any movement in the gray house- you couldn’t spot any candles lit inside from the windows- and you were wondering if gilbert was even here when all of a sudden the door swung open and he appeared.

his expression was unreadable, brown eyes deep with emotion and seeded in sadness. “hi,” he said. “gil,” you breathed back.

after a moment of silence, the words came back to you. “these are for you,” you said, reaching out. your hands were shaking, and whether they were from nerves or the cold, gilbert couldn’t tell. he took the flowers and the parcel from your outstretched hands, almost unsure what to do with them. “they’re biscuits,” you said, mouth dry, trying to fill the quiet. “mother’s baking soda ones. you mentioned you liked them one time, and we were out of plum preserves, but i-”

“thank you,” gilbert said, and although it sounded slightly robotic, his words felt genuine. you looked at your shoes, unsure of what to say next. your parents had always taught you to say “i’m sorry for your loss” to someone grieving, but the phrase felt too unfamiliar. “i- i’ll leave you to it, then,” you stuttered, backing away from the door and turning to go. you didn’t want to intrude- even if he was your friend. because that’s what you were, right? friends. friends visited during difficult times. friends didn’t want to hug all the sadness out of him. but gilbert’s voice cracked when he spoke next, and you turned around.

“no,” he said clumsily. the words are rushed and jumbled from his mouth, and he stumbles over the next ones too. “please. you’re freezing, and soaking wet. come in.”

up until then, you’d hoped you didn’t look that bad. your straw hat had managed to protect the top of your head, but the rest of your hair was stringy and dripping over your shoulders. your cheeks were also flushed, and even in what should have been a moment focused on his own grief, gilbert found himself worrying that you’d catch pneumonia in this weather. he hadn’t expected anyone to visit today, especially not in a rainstorm.

seeing the concern in his eyes, you realized that walking all the way home in a thunderstorm was probably not such a good idea, so you stepped in cautiously per gilbert’s invitation. the house was warm, but everything seemed dim and gray. the door you knew led to mr. blythe’s bedroom was closed, and you could see gilbert’s eyes darting towards it as well, as if he were praying you wouldn’t say anything. gilbert set down the parcel of biscuits on the kitchen table and looked around for something.

“do you have a vase?” you asked quietly. “i can fill it up with water for you. i thought the forget-me-nots would bring a little light.”

gilbert nodded, but sucked in a breath. you turned to him with a questioning look. “the vase,” he said, voice dry. “it’s in his room. mrs. lynde brought some peonies over while he was still sick, and i didn’t take them out. he’s always hated peonies- he thinks they’re too big and bold. but he would’ve loved these.”

you lightly touched the small forget me not bouquet, felt the soft petals under your fingertips. “you don’t have to use a vase,” you replied softly. “a mug will do.” gilbert stood motionless in the middle of the kitchen, and you maneuvered around him, carefully filling up the pottery with water and placing the flowers in it.

he seemed rooted to the floor, even when he focused his gaze on the posy. your glance met his, and the sorrow was evident. gilbert hadn’t cried at the funeral- you’d never seen him cry. but now tears were brimming at the corners of his soft chocolate eyes, threatening to spill over, and in a moment your body overtook your mind and you had wrapped your arms around gilbert in a hug.

for a moment you regretted it. but then he was hugging you back, clutching your arms, holding onto you as if you were his lifeline. and in a way, you were. you could feel his hot breath on the back of your neck, hear his muffled cries. due to his height, your face was nestled in the crook of gilbert’s neck, and the two of you stayed like that, intertwined, for several long moments.

when gilbert finally pulled away, he knew that for better or for worse, you would be there for him until the day he died.

three. when you exchanged christmas presents in the snow.

to be honest, you hadn’t expected gilbert to come back from the steamer, or trinidad. you’d kept in close correspondence with him, saving the letters he sent you in a special drawer in your writing desk. you memorized his handwriting- the candid tone recalling his tales- the stamps on the envelope. but it still came as a surprise when he’d arrived back.

everything had been awkward at the start, but as soon as gilbert told you all the tales of his travels, you’d slowly slipped back into your old dynamic. there was still a line the both of you were toeing, trying to test out the boundaries between platonic and whatever the two of you were. when you’d met bash, he’d given you a quick wink and told you he’d heard all about you, but other than that, you were positive gilbert just wanted to stay friends. “he can’t love me,” you’d told the avonlea girls a few days prior. “the letters didn’t mean anything, he was just lonely.” but all of them agreed, even ruby- who had been zoning in on moody spurgeon ever since gilbert had left- that there was something more in his words, that it wasn’t all in your head.

and now it was christmas. gilbert, bash, and the shirley-cuthberts had all come for dinner (you’d grown close to anne the past year, and it had taken some convincing but since your father knew matthew so well, marilla had deemed it acceptable). the dinner had been lovely- your mother had brought out all the stops for gilbert and bash- roast goose, scalloped potatoes (island ones, of course), cranberry jelly, chicken pie, spiced gingerbread. flames crackled in the fireplace, biting gusts of wind rattled the windows, and blurred glittery ornaments adorned the pine tree in the center of your living room. dinner was over now, and the adults were gathered around the table and swapping stories of old. anne was there too, heavily engaged in a discussion with bash, but the social aspect was getting to be somewhat exhausting, so you quietly slipped out the back door to have a few moments alone.

in a rather unladylike fashion, you got up and sat on the fence by your house, snowflakes tickling your nose, watching the sun slowly begin to set. hues of pink and orange tinged the sky, and you were surprised you could even see it right now- the weather suggested a cloudy sky. the sound of snow crunching came from behind you, and to your surprise, gilbert was coming towards you. he had his brown cap and his red flannel on, and he looked so cozy that you somehow wished you were cuddled up in his arms. pushing the thought away, you greeted him as he came to sit on the fence beside you.

“enjoying the night so far?”

“quite,” gilbert replied. there was a sparkle in his eyes that danced, one that had been noticeably absent since his father died. you suspected it had something to do with bash’s uncle-like presence, and maybe anne’s too- it was well rumored that he’d fancied her for a while when they’d first met. gilbert looked off into the sunset, puffs of his breath materializing in the cold air, and you shivered involuntarily. he offered you his wool mittens wordlessly, and you gratefully put them on, although they were too big for you.

“oh,” you said, remembering something. he turned towards you, watching you intently as you pulled out a small package from your coat pocket. it was wrapped in festive paper, and you’d written his name on it in swooping calligraphy.

“for me?” gilbert asked. he carefully unfurled the wrapping paper to reveal a small leather bound book embossed with “the complete illustrated medical dictionary (pocket edition)” on the front. “i’ve had it since you left,” you said, breath catching in your throat. “i kept it for you. all this time.”

genuine joy shone in gilbert’s eyes. he flipped through the pages delightedly, marveling at the drawings inside. “thank you,” he grinned. “i actually have something for you too.”

breathlessly, you awaited your gift, snowflakes fluttering down and landing on you. they decorated your hair and its festive ribbon for one fleeting moment before melting, and you swore there was nothing as beautiful as this moment, exchanging gifts with gilbert in the snow, watching the sunset sweep across the dove-gray sky. finally, gilbert found what he was looking for in his pocket, and produced a tiny box.

“it doesn’t look like much,” he warned, “but i found it on my travels. i was waiting to give it to you. i wanted it to be the perfect moment.”

carefully opening the small box, you gasped as the lid revealed a necklace with a pendant. a small silver locket shaped like a heart, the kind one could put a photograph in. “gilbert,” you breathed. “this is- this is beautiful.”

and it was. the locket lay on a delicate chain, and it was engraved intricately, with elaborate designs. your mittened hands fumbled to take it out of the box and inspect it more, but gilbert took it from you with a small smile. “let me help you,” he murmured, and made to fasten it on you. you stood still, hyper aware of how close gilbert’s hands were to your face. his fingers brushed against the back of your neck, securing the necklace, and you caught yourself from flinching. you didn’t know what to say, except for thank you, so you repeated yourself again.

“a thing of beauty is a joy forever,” gilbert quoted, somewhat uncharacteristically. “keats,” he added after a moment, referencing the poet he’d read the phrase from. “i wanted you to have something to remember me by.”

“to remember you by?” you laughed. “what, are you going on the steamer again?”

he could tell the thought sobered you, so he shook his head, shrugging. “no. i just think…you’re a wonderful girl. the loveliest in avonlea.”

“i think you’re wonderful too,” you said shyly, which was about as many words as you could manage right now. the loveliest girl in avonlea? goodness.

the sun had almost set by now, and the sky was turning dark- a good cover for hiding the red tint spreading across your face. “we should go back inside,” you said hurriedly, and the two of you made your way over to the door. you stopped before opening it, basking in the glow of the oil lamp on the porch.

“gilbert, i-”

overcome by sudden anxiety, you handed back his warm mittens. “thank you,” you said, the words lingering on your tongue. “for everything.”

quickly, so fast you almost missed it, gilbert leaned down, brushed a stray wisp of hair away, and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “merry christmas,” he said simply. and then, the two of you went back inside, as if nothing had happened at all.

as soon as you entered, bash noticed the locket and smirked. gilbert shot him a warning look, lest he say anything. the two of you immersed yourself in separate conversations- you with anne, him with marilla and your mother, while matthew silently observed your father and bash discuss politics. but you kept stealing glances at each other as if you were speaking a secret language that only the two of you knew, and each time it filled you with comfort.

it was a cold christmas, but you felt the warmest you had been in a while– and, as luck would have it, so did gilbert.

four. when you climbed a tree.

and so summer rolled around again, fading into august. university loomed on the horizon. childhood was over- gone were the days of butterflies, bumblebees, and scraped knees. yet you could pretend, and so you did.

the soft salt breeze tickled your face, sending a pleasant feeling down your spine. you were with gilbert- on his farm, in the orchard. it was just the two of you- most of avonlea were in charlottetown for the island county fair, granting you the opportunity to do whatever you wanted, since no one was around to see.

so you took advantage of that. no more were the stolen glances, the sneaking around, your only physical touch with gilbert being brushed hands- and even then you’d both deemed it risky. neither of you wanted word to get around yet. sure, there had been rumors and some of your best friends knew (only the ones you were sure wouldn’t spread anything around). but here, now, the world was your oyster. and the two of you soaked it up blissfully.

you were lying on the grass with your head in gilbert’s lap, weaving a flower crown as he read a book- an old poetry collection ms stacy had lent him. the clouds were glorious fluffy shapes in the blue sky, and you pointed them out to gilbert every once in a while. your fingers deftly twined the daisies and their stems, finally tying them all together in a knot, creating a perfect circlet, and setting it teasingly on gilbert’s dark hair.

he smirked, leaving it on. “made it for me?”

“a pretty crown for a pretty boy,” you replied, smiling from your position in his lap. he was solid, sturdy, his hand resting securely on your waist. you felt safe with your body close to his, arms and legs intertwined. and he was pretty- “the prettiest boy in avonlea,” you said, mimicking his words to you from last christmas. he laughed and set the book down, taking the flower crown off and resting it gently on your hair. “it suits you,” gilbert said softly, and he was right.

the two of you stayed like that for a while, absorbing each other’s presence. you charted the rare freckles scattered across the bridge of his nose as if they were constellations, tracing them with the tip of your finger. it tickled him, and he smiled down at you. he finally returned to his book- “i want to read you something”- and blissfully, you obliged, settling down to listen.

“i almost wish we were butterflies and lived but three summer days- three such days with you i could fill with more delight than fifty common years could ever contain,” gilbert read from the poetry collection in his lap, a break from the constant medical anatomy books he was usually seen carrying around. you recognized the fragment of poetry- “keats,” you said, “just like what you said to me last winter. when you gave me the necklace.”

a smile tugged at gilbert’s lips, and you pulled out the locket from under the neckline of your dress to show him. “i’ll never take it off,” you promised him, right then and there. “it’s like a little piece of you with me, all the time.”

“you better not,” he teased. “cost me a fortune, that one. even more than all of those romance books i’m always secretly buying you in town.”

you sat up and shoved him jokingly, tousling his dark curls to purposely peeve him. gilbert’s hair wasn’t tidy all that often, but he’d let it slip once that he always tried to make it look nice for you. struck by a sudden flash of inspiration, you jumped up. “let’s go pick some apples.”

the blythe orchard was infamous for their strawberry apples, the only place in avonlea where they were available. contrary to popular belief, this was simply a variant of apple, and not a strawberry hybrid. all too happy to appease you, gilbert took your hand and led you to the best tree on the land. most of the other boughs were still blooming with apple blossoms, but this tree was different.

he pointed to a low-hanging branch, one blessed with red fruit. “my father always picked the first apple on this tree in august,” he told you, tone contemplative and wistful. “he said this was the tree he kissed my mother under for the first time. he thought if the first apple of the season was picked here, at this tree, it brought the harvest luck.”

nostalgia flickered in gilbert’s eyes, and you knew he was missing his father more than usual. “let’s do it, then,” you said, finding your voice, fingers delicately intertwined with his- giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “we’ll each pick one. in honor of him. a new tradition.”

the words you’d spoken may have been simplistic, but to gilbert they meant the world. without his father, it had been so incredibly difficult at first to do anything- carry on old traditions, much less creating new ones. but here you were, by his side, looking up at him with adoring eyes, and giving him the opportunity to heal and grow. gilbert knew he could never put into words how much it truly meant to him.

you let him go first, watching him scamper up the tree like a squirrel. he seemed a boy again, plucking an apple from the highest bough and descending nimbly. when you started climbing, you found your footing easily, but doubt wracked your mind- imagine the horrors if mrs. lynde and her posse heard about this, climbing trees like a chimpanzee! - and so you opted for a lower branch, reaching it deftly. you reached for an apple and held it high victoriously. some hint of pride shone in gilbert’s eyes.

“to making new traditions,” he said- a toast with the notable absence of glasses brimming with champagne. “to making new traditions,” you repeated, and in that moment, you in the tree and him on the ground, you swore you could see hints of a future- one with new traditions and old traditions, little feet running around and everything in between. today was flawless.

and it would’ve been perfect, except for the sound of the branch cracking under your weight. you weren’t too high up in the tree, but inevitably, you landed on the ground, a crumpled heap of petticoats and ribbons, crying out softly upon impact.

you’d never seen gilbert this way, in ‘doctor mode’, simply put. he was immediately beside you, voice laced with concern, checking you over for scrapes and bruises. you were fine, mostly- just a little shaken up and scared, save for the red-hot throbbing in your wrist. the pain didn’t exactly warrant crying, but you weren’t used to the funny feeling, and tears welled in your waterline anyways. gilbert, telling you to take deep breaths, helped you sit up.

he’d noticed straightaway the way you held you wrist, cradling it slightly away from your body, and murmuring words of comfort, he started prodding your knuckles, gently examining the swollen area. you winced, but it wasn’t too bad. “i don’t think it’s broken,” gilbert said finally, deeming it a sprain after careful inspection. “but let’s get you back home. i have some bandages- i’ll wrap it just in case.”

tears threatened to spill over again as the two of you walked from the orchard to his home. gilbert noticed, and stopped. “hey,” he said softly. “it’s okay. i’ll make you some herbal tea. that should help with the pain a bit.”

“it’s not that,” you made out, a small pout forming on your lips. “we were having such a wonderful day, gil, and i ruined it all. i’m sorry.”

“whoa, whoa, whoa,” he said, his brow furrowing. “you didn’t ruin anything. you got hurt, it happens. and we have the rest of the afternoon to be together- i’ll tell you what, how about once we get back to the farmhouse, we’ll make the most of it, okay? we can still have some fun.”

a wobbly smile formed on your lips, and you nodded. gilbert cupped your face gently, and looked into your eyes. “i love you,” he said, voice nervous but firm. “just let me take care of you.”

your heart caught in your throat. he’d never said that before. contrary to the rumors, he hadn’t even kissed you properly yet. “i love you too,” you whispered, voice hoarse. and before you could think about it too much, you went up on your tiptoes and pressed a small kiss to gilbert’s lips.

they were soft and sweet and filled with promise and hope, and he leaned into it, your bodies closer than they’d ever been. his hands ghosted the small of your back, your hips, your shoulders, and it felt like home. when you finally pulled apart, there was a twinkle in his eye you’d never seen before. a twinkle of something called joy.

when you got back to the farmhouse, he finally settled you on the couch, comfortably sipping a cup of tea and trying wholeheartedly to braid your hair. he’d always wanted to learn, and since you were currently unable to do it yourself, he deemed it the perfect opportunity. it made you laugh- his fingers, usually nimble and clever, were clumsy in your locks, and the braid you ended up with was slightly sloppy, but filled with adoration. a realization fluttered through your mind, and set its claws into your future. you loved gilbert- gilbert loved you- and though you wouldn’t say it out loud, at least not for several years, he would make a wonderful husband.

five. when you said “i do”.

the spring skies were blue today- flowers were blooming- grass was green. “a lovely day for a wedding,” mrs. lynde had told marilla that morning, and all of avonlea agreed.

you were walking down the aisle in a few minutes, getting ready in reverence. a delicate white veil lay on your hair, the one passed down through your family for almost a century. the lace dress fit you perfectly, intricate embroidery accentuating your waist. your mother’s simple pearl earrings adorned your ears, glowing in the morning light. in your hands were a bouquet- a single spray of forget-me-nots, periwinkle blue, an ode to gilbert’s father, who had loved them so. and at the same time, a tribute to your past together, that awful rainy day after the funeral filled with grief and tears and emotion, yet what had brought you closer together. something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue. all was well. you were ready.

the springtime realm of gilbert’s yard was immersed in devotion. petals decorated the grass down the aisle. your dearest friends and family observed, and the wedding itself passed in the blink of an eye. there was not a dry eye during the vows, and gilbert’s words were even more poetic than you had ever hoped. he promised to love you- to care for you- in sickness and in health, to be your rock. it was not the fanciest wedding- there were no messes of tulle and satin and roses- but it was yours, and you couldn’t be happier.

you were husband and wife. the dawn had come anew. and that night, when gilbert fell asleep watching you breathe, finding solace in the rise and fall of your chest, he knew without a doubt that he would do it all over again.

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ninyard · 1 month

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Honestly honestly the most romantic moment of the entire series is when Neil talks about how he'd never gotten to travel for fun before and the Foxes are planning to take him to the mountains, and Kevin starts to protest that they can't go on vacation but stops because Andrew is holding a knife on him 😭🥺😩 like I don't know that's just just a sweet little moment to me, Andrew threatening Kevin if he takes this little chance for happiness from Neil

Uhhhh literally Andrew “I-don’t-care” Minyard is the most romantic of ALL the foxes. My line of work revolves around intimacy and from all my training and studying let me tell you that man is a master at his craft.

Andrew’s touch is beautiful and sacred; this thing he does not take easily, or give out kindly whatsoever. Yet with Neil it’s as if he can’t stop himself. We see it in how gently he tapes the garbage bags around Neil’s injuries, wordlessly, without being asked. THAT’S intimacy. How he holds his neck to inspect his eyes when he removes his contacts, how he hands Neil cigarettes without a request, how he doesn’t say a word while touching Kevin with the point of a blade because Neil deserves a fucking break. Sure, by technicalities, the shower scene from TKM is intimate by definition, but really it’s in the kiss he ghosts across Neil’s hip, in how he pats dry his broken skin afterwards. How can you look at him wordlessly dropping keys into Neil’s palms, and think, yeah there’s no way Andrew could be romantic. Is he soft, is he gentle, as a person? No. But his minuscule actions are, his unmentioned gestures are. You just have to look and find them.

TKM just has some of the most subtly beautiful examples of a different flavour of love and intimacy that is so unusual and heartwarming it’s insane. That shower scene drives me crazy when I think about how caring Andrew is in it. He came in with the tape and bags on his own volition, knowing Neil needed a shower and couldn’t do it unattended. How he didn’t take away Neil’s autonomy by assuming he couldn’t undress himself, instead waiting until he paused and couldn’t go any further before he started to help. How he drapes the blanket over Neil’s shoulders, again giving Neil a chance to struggle before wrapping it around him. They practically don’t speak to each other really in that chapter at all apart from a bit of flirting in the shower. Because they don’t need to, because Andrew knows how to love, how to be caring, how to wrap up the boy he almost lost in bubble wrap because if he loses him again, it won’t be pretty. He washes Neil’s hair! He covers his wounds! He treats him gently when that is possibly the last word that could ever be used to describe Andrew. I feel like that scene was in part of course him just looking after Neil who can use approximately two square inches of his entire body, but in another part proving how serious he is about Neil. Everything changes between the two of them then, suddenly their actions more relaxed than hungry, not yet a given but instead now just a want.

I don’t know. I can’t help but see so much intimacy and romance in subtleties and things you’d barely even notice, regardless of the people/the characters and their circumstances. I wouldn’t use the word sweet to describe Andrew at all, but the things he does for Neil? The way that he loves Neil? The absolutely fucking sweetest.

#I could go on for hours #Andrew is so soft while being the further thing possible from soft #sleepy ramble but I love them so much #aftg #Andrew minyard #Neil josten #andreil #ask #tfc

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cobrakaisb · 2 months

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she's my new dream

summary: in a house in suburban connecticut, may castellan spends her days making peanut butter sandwiches, burnt cookies, and red kool-aid; luke spends his days at camp half-blood, dreaming of his future, an installment in the luke & angel series

word count: 1.32k

featuring: fluff with a hint of angst? or angst with a hint of fluff? you guys decide, luke’s pov!!, set pre tlt!

song lyrics at the end: i want to write you a song by one direction

italics = may castellan flashbacks, everything else = current/luke’s daydreams

the house with the blue siding and white picket fence was located on the corner of an intersection. it was surrounded by serenity, shrouded from view. most people living there ignored it; they all heard the stories about its inhabitants, or inhabitant rather. the crazy lady, who’s son went missing at nine years old. the woman who spends her days waiting for him to return, who genuinely believes that every boy in the neighborhood is her son. sometimes, when the air is hot and humid, they can smell the burnt chocolate and see the thick, gray smoke floating out the kitchen window. sometimes, when the children are riding up and down the streets on their bikes, they can hear her calling. she repeats the same name, like a prayer. luke…luke…luke

“luke,” you snap, shaking his shoulder vigorously. he jolts awake, shooting upright in his bunk. he takes a deep breath, hands fisting at the white sheets. his head whips around, back and forth. he’s trying to pinpoint the smell of burnt cookies that seems to linger in his nose because he knows she’s not here.

“luke, hey,” you say, calling his attention. seeing you, in your neon orange shirt, grounds him. he’s not at his mother’s house, he’s in cabin eleven at camp half-blood with you perched on the side of his bed. he meets your gaze, relief flooding his brown eyes. “sorry,” he mumbles. “bad dream?” you ask, looking at him inquisitively. he nods, and you don’t push him further than that, simply tracing the veins in his hands, which are still gripping at the sheets. he relaxes under your touch, finally letting go of the fabric.

the tension in his shoulders fade at the sight of your gentle smile. he feels one take over his own face, and he intertwines his fingers with yours. “everything okay?” he asks, looking at you. you shrug your shoulders, a carefree smile on your face despite the worry in your eyes. “just missing you,” you reply sheepishly, suddenly transfixed by a chip in his bed frame. luke smiles at that, his eyes full of mischief and arrogance. “oh really?” he teases, leaning his chin on your shoulder, so that his lips ghost against the shell of your ear when he speaks. you giggle at the ticklish sensation of his breath on your skin, shoving him back with a hand on his chest. “don’t be weird about it,” you say, standing up from his bed. “the only one being weird about it is you angel.”

you roll your eyes at his words, shaking your head in disbelief. “i came here to check on you, out of the kindness in my heart, and this is what i get? unbelievable castellan,” you reply, leaning down so that your arms can wrap around his neck. luke grins at your words, dimples indenting his cheeks. “you love it,” he answers, leaning his forehead against yours. the two of you stay there for a moment, basking in the close proximity and quiet atmosphere of the hermes cabin.

the door slams open, causing you to spring apart. chris storms into the cabin, a handful of other hermes boys following him. they’re all laughing and shoving each other, but one of them freezes when he notices you and luke. “thought you were sick castellan?” he teases, and the group laughs at luke’s red cheeks. “shut up andrew,” he mumbles, pushing the comforter off as he finally gets out of bed. his hand comes to rest on the small of your back as he ushers you out the door. “see you guys later,” chris calls. luke answers for the both of you with a middle finger.

“that’s not my son’s fate,” she shrieks, vigorously shaking her head. the older girl grimaces at her words, but the younger one is confused, opting to hide behind the raven haired girl instead of facing the older woman. he stands between the woman and the girls, fists clenched at his sides. he wants to reach out, comfort her, but he knows there’s no hope when she’s having one of her episodes. he doesn’t understand what she’s saying, but he has a good enough idea. he lets his eyes drift to the other side of the kitchen, where he sees a plate with a sandwich and a glass of red kool-aid.

luke watches from across the dining pavilion as you cut up the food for a younger camper. they’re blabbing away about something to you, and the whole time you’re nodding your head and smiling, hanging on to each and every word. he sees your lips moving on occasion, adding something to the story the young demigod is telling you. for a moment, he's transported through time, standing in the kitchen of a house that he doesn’t recognize. there are two young children sitting at the table, watching as you make them a sandwich. they are clearly carbon copies of the two of you, and they eagerly take the plates from your hands when you’re done making them lunch. he looks at the food one more time, and realizes that the two kids are eating peanut butter sandwiches. just like him.

“it’s our turn. get up,” chris says, shoving luke’s shoulder as he walks towards the giant firepit in the middle. luke grunts, disappointed that he couldn’t continue living out his daydream, but he stands up without a second thought. his brown eyes meet your intense stare from across the hall, and he’s met with a small smile that makes his heart burst. for the first time in a long time, he actually prays to a god, begging for his daydreams to become a reality.

his shoulders are tense, back rigid, as he sits at the dining room table. his eyes dart across the room, following the woman’s every step. she stops in front of him, placing a sandwich and glass down on the table. “eat your lunch baby,” she mumbles, fingers brushing his black curls away from his forehead. he gulps, nodding his head as opposed to speaking. she’s present, but her eyes are in a far off place, seeing things he can’t understand while her ears listen to voices that aren’t really there. he’s waiting for an episode to break out; he’s waiting for his chance to leave.

“what if we just left camp?” luke asks, turning so that he’s looking at you instead of the stars. you laugh breathily at his words, “where would we go?” he doesn’t answer, instead opting to take the moment to look into your pretty eyes, shining with mirth. you blink, lashes resting on your cheeks. he can’t help but think that you look ethereal in the moonlight. “anywhere,” he finally answers, “as long as i’m with you.” you smile at his words, turning so that you're laying on your side, completely facing him. “we could escape to the countryside,” you say, an adrift look in your eyes as your mind wanders. luke’s does too…

a small house in the countryside, with just enough room for your little family. he sees the two children, the ones from before, running around in the grassy terrain. they’re laughing and giggling, completely carefree and unaware of the struggles their parents faced. he’s sitting on a wooden swing, with his arms wrapped around your shoulder. your back is to him, feet curled up to your chest as you read a book. it’s old and well-loved, just like the two of you, but he knows better than to disturb your reading. he can hear the children yelling, begging for luke to join them in their games. “they’re calling for you angel,” you whisper, still entranced by the words on the page. he hums, kissing your shoulder as he gets up from the swing, leaving the veranda. everything is peaceful.

everything i need i get from you // and giving back is all i wanna do

#luke castellan #luke castellan pjo #pjo luke #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan x you #luke castellan angst #luke castellan fluff #cobrakaisb writing

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luvrxbunny · 6 months

Note

Bunny I was randomly thinking about slow sex with Miguel with the !Cradle Sex Position! 🥺

i had to google what that was and omg the fucking fire that starting in my stomach AHHHHHH

also there were a bunch of diff photos so i hope this is the one you were talking about

warning 18+ - an animated photo of the position is below the cut

not proofread and probably some improper grammar CUS THIS WAS JUST SUPPOSED TO BE A BLURB

wc: 1k

it'd be really emotional sex. like maybe you almost died on a mission, ohh- like andrew garfield's spider-man! you were falling like that and Miguel had seen that canon event for other spiders so many times that he thought this was it- that no matter what he does, no matter how hard he tries, how quickly he shoots his web it wont reach you, he wont catch you, you're gonna die and it's his fault. but then his web reaches you and you're shaken up but completely safe.

he doesnt leave you alone for the rest of the day. he becomes worse than your shadow because at least your shadow can't insist your keep one part of your body on his at all times.

once you guys get home you ask him why he's so worked up and bent outta shape by what happened today and he breaks down. tears begin to stream down his face despite how aggressively he's trying to rub them away and you force him to sit down and explain himself to you.

you’re being so gentle as you comfort him, so caring and loving in a way he’s never felt before. so ofc he gets hard 🥳

he pulls you into his lap slowly and just stares at the shocked expression on your face once you feel that he’s hard. you’re sitting across his lap because of how he pulled you in. your legs run off the sides of his thighs as his legs stay planted on the ground.

he readjusts himself, slides down a bit and spreads his legs before wrapping a thick arm behind your thighs, one behind your back and slowly folding you up for him. he turns you so your back is to his chest but you can still hold the eye contact he’s kept this whole time.

the silence in the room is so fragile you’re afraid to breathe, not wanting to shatter the moment. his eyes flicker to your lips for a moment before coming back up with a pleasing look. his cheeks are still wet with tears, you can’t resist him. you lean in slowly and don’t close your eyes until your lips are locked with his. he moans and he reaches for your hand. he grabs your wrist and fidgets with buttons until your suit dissipates, one of his favorite things about having chosen to make you a digital suit.

he adjusts his watch to just dissipate the crotch, always needing that power imbalance between the two of you. his cock slaps against your pussy the moment it’s freed, eliciting a shocked, but desperate moan from the both of you.

miguel planned on taking his time with you but after his cock hit your plush, wet, lips— he can’t wait any longer. “putting it in, baby.” he grunts out into your ear as he lines himself up with your entrance. your hands reach back to caress his head, play with the curls at the base of his neck.

both your eyes roll back as he slides into you. it’s funny how in sync the two of you are, feeling the same things at the same time for the same reasons. the emotional exposure has left you both raw, sensitive for each other. you both are moaning louder and more frantically than you usually would, on edge already.

“m’not gonna last miguel. oh i love you so much, baby. you’re so good, keeping me safe at all times. my big protector.” your delirious, running your hand through his curls and grinding on his cock as you speak. your words affect him more than he ever could’ve expected. he’s cumming.

it’s worse than a punch to the gut. he lets out a yelp/moan of your name like a scolding and you can feel his warmth flooding your insides. his hands grip your thighs so hard you actually think they may pop, you have to dig your nails into his wrists for him to realize. his hands are shaking— his whole body is shaking so violently that you’re trembling along with him, causing an extra tightness over his cock as you start to cum.

he was on the tail end of his orgasm but now that you’re cumming around him… it’s been renewed. he lets out another shocked moan, closer to a whimper and a sob as he crosses the line into overstimulation. he’s still fucking into you though because you’re cumming. he wants you to cum so hard you’re nothing but jelly in his hands but it seems to be having the opposite affect.

your head is turned to his, you hand on the back of his head, in his curls to angle it towards you and you’re mumbling with a smirk against his lips. “oh- yeah. fill me up, miggy. you’re pumping me so full, baby. kee- keep going. miguel. keep filling me up, my love. m’all yours. make me yours- mark me. want everyone to know.” your words penetrate his brain like bullets. shooting through him and never leaving. mark you

he takes a bite before he can think. wanting to mark you in anyway he can and the sensitivity on his fangs as his eyes crossing as his cock shoves out another fat rope of cum into you. you’re squealing, trying to hold your sounds in as you flutter over his cock again, creating an obscene noise as his thrusts die into slow grinds. his teeth are still in your shoulder, feeling too good under the rush of your warm blood to pull out. his brows are furrowed as he tries to collect his thoughts again.

this never happens to him. you’re stroking the back of his head now and whispering loving words into the air, hoping he can hear them. you’re usually the one in this position, all fallen apart and gifting miguel the honor of putting you back together. but now he’s gifting the honor to you, giving himself you you completely, letting you clean him up and take the both of you to bed.

HOW THE FUCK DID THIS GET SO LONG OMFG 😭 THIS SHOULD COUNT AS TODAYS FIC

i literally burnt myself out from this and now today's fic is like 800 words

971 notes · View notes

padfootagain · 3 months

Text

Blackout

Hi everyone! Here comes another fic for Hozier! Hope you like it! It isn’t an enemies to lovers, honestly, more like an… annoyed to lovers.

Hope you like this! Tell me what you think!

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Pairing: Hozier x reader

Warnings: none, it’s cute! Adorable even. Lots of interrupted kisses. Annoyed to lovers instead of a real enemies to lovers

Summary: Your new neighbour is insufferable with his music-making and his pretty face and his unbearably tall frame. Or is he? Maybe a blackout through your neighbourhood will make you change your mind about him.

Word Count: 5568

Hozier’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

It wasn’t that you hated him, really. You reckoned that you didn’t know the guy enough to hate him.

It was just that… he simply… got on your nerves.

Why? Well, the fact that your new neighbour was blasting electric guitar and wailing at 2am was a good start. And then there was just… something… something off. You couldn’t explain it. You just saw him and you went nope.

And that was probably mean, and uncalled for, to be fair. He seemed nice enough, during the day, when he was not waking you up at an ungodly hour. He was good-looking too, and he had a nice soothing voice, quiet and surprisingly gentle considering that he was a fucking giant…

Still, you couldn’t forgive him for ruining your nights and never even apologising. Or actually, he did apologise. Every time. And then, he went ahead and did it all over again the next day. The fact that he was a famous musician (that you had obviously recognised, you did not live under a rock, after all) was no excuse to bother your neighbours when they had jobs to go to in the morning.

What a jerk…

Still, you did need some flour to bake these cookies due for your friend tomorrow, now that your little demon of a black cat had dropped the whole thing on the floor… and then decided to roll in it so he could paint your entire kitchen with powder.

What a day…

So, that was the reason why you were now knocking on your neighbour’s door. It was a small building you lived in, with only three flats, and you knew that the couple upstairs were away, gone on vacation somewhere hot and sunny to drink fancy colourful cocktails, the lucky bastards. Meanwhile, you remained in your small town, while it was freezing cold outside, sky as grey as your mood, forced to see this unbearably annoying neighbour of yours…

You knocked a second time, perhaps he had not heard you. You knew he was in, there was light coming out from underneath his door. The shop in your village was closed today. He was your only hope to get these cookies of yours, sadly…

Finally, the door opened. Or well, it was flung open, actually. A grumpy look on handsome features appeared, towering you with his full height, long brown curls messily tied in a bun.

“Hi!” you forced a smile. “Sorry to bother you, but I… have a small flour issue. Could I borrow you some?”

Andrew raised a surprised eyebrow, but nodded anyway.

“Need anything else?” he asked, and his voice was softer than the look on his face would have suggested.

“No, thanks. Just flour.”

He seemed unsure of what to do with his long limbs for a moment, staring at you before he turned in a jolt, hurried back inside. You noticed that he hadn’t bothered with a hello.

What a je…

“I don’t have much left, I hope you’ll have enough.”

He handed you his half-empty bag of flour with a smile. It was pretty, even if it was unmistakeably polite more than anything else.

Why on earth were you thinking that, by the way?

“Thanks! I’ll bring this back quickly, promise.”

He merely gave you another smile, clearly uncomfortable.

“Okay, bye!”

You spun around before he could do anything but mumble a ‘goodbye’, and disappeared in your flat, just across the hall.

Leaning against your front door after closing it, you tried to remember how much of a jerk that man was. How annoying he was. And most of all, you tried not to think of how gorgeous his hazel eyes were…

There was a noise before you, and when you lifted your eyes, Salem was staring at you, paws and fur still partially covered in white flour.

Damn…

It wasn’t that he hated you, really. Andrew reckoned that he didn’t know you enough to hate you.

It was just… simply that you… made him nervous.

There was something about you that just made him struggle to breathe all of a sudden. The fact that the first conversation you had was you not-so-politely telling him to shut up already might have something to do with that. The fact that your cat had been peeing right before his front door on several occasions also played in your disfavour. And perhaps there was also the fact that he found you breathtaking, that he loved the sound of your voice, and that every time he saw you he was torn between an urge to snap at you and another to kiss you to finally make you shut up already. He also sometimes wanted to throw your cat out of the building, but he was too kind-hearted for this to ever fall into the ‘feasible’ category.

The other ones of his urges though…

He shook himself, focused on his guitar again, reached for the cup of tea by his side, sliding the two teabags to the side to take a sip. He needed to focus. He had a song to finish, damn it…

But then again, writing in this small flat he was renting wasn’t ideal. The roof of his home needed to be fixed, he couldn’t stay there for several weeks in a row while people were working on it. And as he was in desperate need for a place to stay while his roof was being repaired, and unwilling to simply stay at a friend’s house for weeks, he wasn’t picky when it came to the choice of flat for this short rental. He would be staying only for a few weeks anyway. He saw the flat on Air BnB, figured it would do, and moved in for six weeks.

The paper-thin walls were a challenge though. And being the night-owl he was, it was tough working only throughout the day.

He took a look at the clock on the wall. 9pm… surely he could make a little bit of noise still. No adult was going to sleep so early these days, lives were too busy for that, workdays too long.

He started recording, trying to get a few back-up vocals in. He could record some guitar quietly later, but he did need some strong vocals to get a feeling of the song. Perhaps it would help him finish this bunch of lyrics he was stuck with.

He had been working for around twenty minutes when he heard someone knocking on his door.

He stopped mid-note, cursing at the interruption. Your interruption, without a doubt…

He needed to work, it was still early, and you were getting on his nerves so fucking much…

He opened his door a little too hard, a dark expression adorning his features. And he was even angrier at you when he found you wearing casual clothes, a warm oversized hoodie and some sweatpants. He was infuriated by your messy hair and the way he wanted to run his fingers through it. He was so frustrated by the white traces of flour splattered across your cheek and sleeves and fingers, and how adorable they made you look. Cosy and comfortable and making him feel lonely like this, on his own, recording alone and singing to no one, making him want to hold you through the night…

“Hi!” you spoke first, but he noticed at once how forced your smile was. “Sorry to bother you, but I… have a small flour issue. Could I borrow you some?”

He was so surprised, he had to raise an eyebrow at that. No complaints about his singing? No… complaints in general? Were you alright?

He wondered why he was so surprised by that, anyway. You seemed to be lovely. He simply had never had the occasion to properly talk to you, that was all…

He nodded.

“Need anything else?” he asked, making his voice softer, knowing he had been a little rough as he had opened the door.

And for God’s sake, he had not even said hello! You would think he was an absolute knob… Was it too late to say hello? Yeah, of course, it was too late, he was pathetic, and there it was again, you were making him so damn nervous, staring at him with these beautiful eyes of yours…

“No, thanks. Just flour.”

He wasn’t sure what to do. For some reason, he was reluctant to walk in again. He didn’t dare question why.

Eventually, though, he did hurry to his kitchen, foraging for his flour. He had barely half a bag left…

“I don’t have much left, I hope you’ll have enough.”

He handed you his half-empty bag of flour and forced a smile. He hoped you wouldn’t notice that his hands had turned clammy, that he was struggling for breath a little… or a lot, actually. He didn’t know what to make of his long limbs, of his tall frame, he didn’t know what to tell you…

“Thanks! I’ll bring this back quickly, promise,” you told him, smiling too, although yours was more relaxed and he found it a little too bright, it made it dangerous.

He wondered if he should tell you about the white streak on your cheek, but decided against it. He didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, he was awkward enough for the two of you. God, it had been years since he had been that shy in front of someone.

Before he could find something to say (and he was trying hard to find something interesting to say), you were pressing your lips tightly together.

“Okay, bye!”

It was over already? Andrew was a little stunned by it, he mumbled a ‘goodbye’, brain functioning at full speed to find an excuse to make you stay, but found nothing, reaching to grasp only at air. A second later, you were spinning around, hurrying across the corridor and back to the safety of your door. He watched you disappear, and walked back inside with a sigh.

He sat back in his chair, picked up his guitar again. Damn, he needed to get a grip. He was supposed to hate you, for God’s sake…

“Oh, this got to be a joke…”

Andrew mumbled under his breath, heaving a deep sigh. As if things weren’t complicated enough already in this tiny flat…

The light had just gone out. In this wintery season, even though it was still fairly early, the sky was already wearing its nightly colours, although any traces of moon or stars were hidden behind heavy clouds. Without electricity, the whole room was drenched in darkness…

Andrew checked the battery level of his laptop, resting before him on the small desk where he had been working on a new song. Luckily, none of his music equipment was plugged in, so no damage from a power surge could have happened. He had about 35% battery left…

“Great…”

He saved his files, and used the light of the screen to look for his phone. He checked the battery there too, at the corner of the screen.

12%...

“Fuck…”

He turned the torchlight on anyway, having no other source of light in the room but for his electronical devices. He headed for the cupboard by the door, feet making the wooden floor creak quietly in the dark. He checked the fuses on the hidden electrical panel there, but everything was normal.

It wasn’t coming from his flat. In fact, it wasn’t coming from his building. As he peered into the street, all the streetlights had gone out. It was complete darkness, except for the distant lights of a car, that disappeared after a few seconds.

Andrew heaved another sigh, wondering what to do. It was 6pm, he had not eaten dinner, he had not showered – both vital needs that could not be fulfilled without electricity, unless he wanted to opt for a freezingly cold shower, and he was clearly not in the mood for that – and his phone, aka only source of light, was about to die.

Great… fucking great…

He reckoned that he had a few biscuits tugged somewhere, that would make dinner. He could still quickly wash up with cold water and take a proper shower tomorrow. He only needed a proper torchlight, or at least a candle to see something.

He foraged through the cupboards, drawers and every corner of the flat. No candle, no light, nothing…

His phone was down to 7% battery.

Damn…

There was, however, a solution to his problem. He could go and ask you if you could lend him any source of light…

God, he hated his bloody romantic brain for the line that immediately popped into his head.

She’s a source of light…

“Oh, just shut up, already…” he cursed at himself out loud.

He still opened the door, and walked over to your flat. He only hesitated once he was facing the wooden surface, hand raised in a fist and about to knock. He could feel his throat tightening, and some excited butterflies mingle in his stomach with something anxious and not quite nice. He could feel his palms becoming clammy. He bit down on his cheek.

Did he really want to do that? Knock on your door? See you? You could tell him to fuck off. You could be mean. Or worse, you could give him an earnest smile, what would he do with himself if you did?

But Andrew shook himself and finally knocked. He wasn’t a bloody teenager to be this intimidated by someone. He was an accomplished musician, in his thirties, who owned a home, bees and an awful lot of guitars. He had talked to many people who were way more intimidating than you, including the fucking president! He had sung in front of thousands of people! Tens of thousands! He could totally ask you for a torchlight and be cool about it.

His breath staggered when your face appeared, opening the door and looking up at him with these gorgeous eyes of yours, and his heart skipped several beats, and his brain simply ceased to function altogether…

Bloody hell…

“Oh, hi!” you spoke in an annoyed voice, but he somehow knew the feeling wasn’t aimed at him. “I was about to go over to your place, Andrew. There’s no power in my flat.”

“None in mine either. And nothing in the street. It seems the whole area is in the dark.”

You heaved a frustrated sigh, a long exhale through your nose, and Andrew couldn’t help but find you adorable like this, all frustration and annoyance. He wanted to kiss that frown of yours away…

But he shook himself instead.

She’s annoying as fuck. And you’ve interviewed your fucking president, you can ask your neighbour for a candle…

“I’m sorry to bother you,” he said, his voice more hesitant than usual, but steady all the same. “But there’s nothing we can do to get the lights back on, and there’s no candle or torchlight in the flat. And my phone is about to die. Do you have anything you could lend me for the night?”

But you shook your head.

“Sorry, got only one candle, and I’m using it. My phone is about to die too.”

“Oh… okay, nevermind then. Thanks anyway.”

“Oh wait! Your flour!”

You rushed inside, reappeared seconds later with the bag you had borrowed that morning.

“Thanks,” Andrew gave you a smile, one that he tried to make brighter than the ones he usually offered you. “Hope the cooking went well.”

“Yep! I now have lots of cookies! Luckily, they were finished before the power went out. The oven runs on electricity.”

“Yeah, mine too. Everything in the flat does, actually,” he answered with a wince.

“You’ve got some food for tonight?”

“Some snacks, yeah. It will simply not be a night for my infamous pastas.”

Andrew didn’t know how to react when you actually chuckled at his joke, a genuine smile now adorning your lips. It was all butterflies and leaping heart and air leaving his lungs.

Fuck… this was so much more intimidating than talking to the president…

“I’ve got some stuff ready, if you want. Nothing fancy, just a salad.”

You opened your door wider, a silent invitation, one he was too surprised by to seize right away, too busy raising an eyebrow.

“Oh… erhmmm… thanks… you don’t have to bother, though…”

“I’m not! I prepare most of my meals in advance, during the weekend. I have enough for you, if you want.”

“Erhmmm… it won’t bother you?”

“No, I…”

But you were interrupted by sudden darkness as Andrew’s phone decided to give up on life…

“Fuck! Bloody hell…” he cursed under his breath, tapping on the screen, but to no avail.

“Wait, the candle…”

You walked back into your flat, a dim light coming from the other end of the hall. He could only guess your form in the dark, but he noticed that you were stumbling as you cursed.

“Bloody… Salem! No! Andrew, close the door! The cat!”

Andrew didn’t think. He didn’t fully realize what he was doing as he stepped inside your flat and closed the door in a hurry. A soft brush against his ankle told him that your cat had not managed to escape.

“Did he run off?” you asked, reappearing with the candle in your hand, your features bathed in the warm light; something so ethereal, Andrew thought he was dreaming all of this.

But then he felt claws digging into his jeans in an attempt to climb up his leg, and he was reminded that he was not dreaming, indeed.

“No, he’s decided to use me as his personal tree instead,” he joked, bending to gently push the animal away, who mewed in discontent.

You laughed at that, sound clear and blinding, making him a little dizzy.

“For his defence, that’s an easy mistake to make.”

He rolled his eyes.

“Very funny…”

Still, he couldn’t refrain an amused smile, and yours brightened too.

“So, now that you’re in… want some of my brilliant chicken salad?”

You had no idea what had gone through your brain when you invited Andrew to come in and share a meal with you.

You were supposed to hate the guy. He was supposed to be the annoying musician next door who kept on yelling into some microphone when you tried to sleep.

It was difficult to remind yourself of that though, when the annoying musician turned out to be so soft-spoken and sweet. Sweet. Yeah, that was the most fitting word to describe how your evening was going with him so far. He seemed nervous as well, an unexpected reaction to your modest flat and perfectly ordinary self. The guy had sung in front of audiences of thousands and probably met an awful lot of people who were everything but ordinary… and yet he was shifting his weight now from one foot to the other, as if he didn’t know what to make of his long limbs. You found that adorable…

The fact that he looked stunning in the warm light of the candle, with his hazel eyes looking almost black in the dimly lit room, his hair held in a messy bun, the photons caught in his beard and long eyelashes… yeah, that was not helping at all, either.

You cleared your throat while handing him a glass of water, which he quietly thanked you for. There was nothing special about your meal, but he complimented you anyway. He stole a couple extra cookies for dessert, and you smiled at the sight.

“Sweet tooth?” you asked, nodding towards the crumbs in his plate, the last remnants of the fourth cookie he had been devouring.

He looked sheepishly at you.

“Kind of… sorry…”

“Don’t apologise! I’m glad you like them.”

“Well, you did make them with my flour, so I guess I’ve partly paid for them,” he joked, successfully making you laugh.

He was funny, which didn’t help you reminding yourself that you ought to despise him either.

If you had both struggled a little to start a proper conversation at the beginning, you were more relaxed now, and Andrew seemed to be feeling the same. You had barely talked to each other before, your interactions limited to polite chit-chat typical of neighbourhood, and you being annoyed at him, and him being annoyed at you.

It turned out that he was nice, that he was kind, that he was funny and smart and that he had an awful lot of anecdotes to tell. Time flew by, the night deepening faster than expected, and you remained sitting around your dinner table even after your plates were empty, talking about your lives and discovering that you had quite a lot in common, after all.

Alright, he wasn’t as insufferable as you had first thought, and for sure your heart leapt every time he smiled, and you couldn’t deny that he was gorgeous…

… still, you were supposed to hate him.

He helped you wash the dishes, joking and making you laugh, and hell, it was hard to stop your heart from beating too fast.

Out of annoyance, of course! You were annoyed… that was why your stomach made some crazy flip-flops when he bent closer to you to secure a plate in the cupboard above your head. It wasn’t at all because his shoulder was touching yours, because he stood so close you could smell his earthy perfume and it made you dizzy…

Nope! None of that… of course…

And when he looked down at you, remaining just as close, and you caught him staring, caught the bopping of his Adam’s apple and the tensing of the muscle in his jaw, the sudden urge you felt to reach up for his collar and pull him down until you could kiss his lips was a reflection of your frustration against him, nothing more.

Nothing more…

His eyes left yours, blinked a couple of times and landed on your lips, and you were certain that the sound of his breathing had disappeared. And you both remained there, standing still, staring at the other and you wondered if he was thinking the same thought as you did, having the same surprising longing to close the space between your bodies. You weren’t sure why you had invited him when you thought you disliked him. But then did you really dislike him? Or did you simply smell danger in his bright smile, saw risks in his pretty eyes, and the fear of falling in his deep voice? Yeah… yeah, perhaps there was a little bit of that, too… You tilted your head up, and he lowered his head, just a little bit, the ghost of a movement, you could almost have dreamt it…

But then he moved away, in a jolt, blinking and clearing his throat as if catching himself doing something mad and wrong and stopping before he actually performed the sin. You disliked him once again, then, hating that he elicited disappointment…

You finished washing the dishes in silence, and you hated the feeling of discomfort that suddenly replaced the warmth he had brought before. He was back at shuffling around, clearly uncomfortable. And yet, when he looked at you again and caught your gaze with his, his expression softened.

“Can I confess something?” he asked out of the blue, but you nodded in encouragement despite your surprise.

He sounded serious all of a sudden, and he took a moment to look for the right words. His eyes seemed to search for something in yours, and you couldn’t look away while he looked so intensely at you.

“I… I’m sorry we kind of… hit it off in a bad way. Cause I… you’re not as bad as I thought you were,” he added with a tinge of humour and lopsided smile, which made you smile too.

“Yeah… you’re not as insufferable as I thought you were either,” you admitted despite yourself. And yet, as soon as the confession passed your lips, you couldn’t deny that you truly meant it.

He grinned, the sight making your heart skip a few beats.

“Is there a way that I can repay you for your amazing chicken salad?” he asked, his tone more playful again, eliciting warmth across your frame.

You couldn’t refrain a laugh.

“I mean, it was an amazing salad,” you leaned into his joking tone.

“Spectacular. It deserves some kind of retribution, somehow…”

“Well, you’re a musician aren’t you? I’m sure you can find something.”

He laughed at that, clearly taken aback by your answer, but if he blushed and rubbed his neck in a mark of sudden shyness, he didn’t back down.

“You’re aiming straight for the serious topics,” he teased.

“For the free concert tickets, if we’re being fully honest…” you joked, making both of you laugh.

“Oh, I see! That’s where the sudden kindness comes from! You want to exchange a chicken salad for a show!”

“Absolutely! Do you have any idea how much time and energy I’ve put in that salad?!”

“A tremendous amount, no doubt! Well… sorry to disappoint, but I��m not on tour at the moment.”

“Good, cause I was aiming for that other artist you might know.”

He broke into a loud laughter, one that filled your apartment and your frame alike with joy.

“What a well-thought plan! I’m afraid you might make me more important than I truly am, though.”

“If I give you an extra-cookie, I’m sure you’ll find a way to get me the show I want.”

“And here you go, using my weaknesses already, you clever lass!”

“A genius, that’s what I am!”

You laughed again, before you would grow more serious again.

“Seriously though, don’t mention it. It was nice to have dinner with you.”

His smile grew more tender, his gaze softened.

“Yeah… it was nice for me too. And perhaps you… perhaps we could do that again? Next time I could be doing the cooking.”

“And with actual lights on, that could be good too,” you joked, making him chuckle as he nodded.

“And well… I’ll have my guitar with me, perhaps I can repay you with some music then.”

“Wow… are you offering a free concert, or a form of serenading?”

You were joking, but you noticed the way his cheeks reddened, and he averted his eyes for a few seconds, before capturing your stare with his once more.

“Rather the second option, I reckon.”

You tried very hard to hide your reaction: the way your heart skipped a few beats and then became absolutely erratic, so much so that you wondered if it could beat hard enough to break your ribs and escape your chest altogether; the butterflies that flew across your stomach; the breath that got caught in your throat…

Damn, you hadn’t felt like that in years…

He averted his eyes once more to speak again.

“Ermmm… unless you wouldn’t like that, of course.”

“I… Actually, I think I would like that. Quite a lot.”

He looked at you then, his smile turning into a grin. And he blinked, eyes falling to your lips a second time this evening…

You reached for your kitchen counter, hesitating in taking the first step and leaning into your urge to pull him down to kiss him. How crazy was that thought? That you could be kissing Hozier, of all people; that you wanted to kiss the neighbour you had categorized as annoying for weeks; that you felt exhilarated like a teenager at the mere thought of touching his cheek…

He seemed to be hesitating too, and you heard him take a sharp intake of breath, blink again, and then he slowly leant down…

… and then it was complete darkness in the room, as the candle died out.

You jumped in surprise, taking a step back involuntarily and letting out a squeal as you felt your heel brushing your cat’s tail. Salem hissed, although you stopped your step before you could hurt him. You started to lose your balance though, when a pair of hands reached blindly in the dark for you, grabbing both of your upper arms and pulling you forward. You collided with something warm, hard and steady, and the earthy scent that enveloped your senses and made your head spin told you that you were pressed against Andrew’s chest.

“You’re alright?” he asked, worry audible in his tone.

“Yeah, just… almost stepped on my cat.”

“Is he alright?”

“Yeah, I almost stepped on him.”

He let out a low hum, almost a rumble, the vibrations echoing through your cheek and you had to close your eyes at the reassuring feeling. You reached up to hold him without thinking; there was something so safe and soft about his embrace…

His left hand moved from your arm to your back, a soothing caress as he pressed you closer. Meanwhile, his other hand was slowly moving up your arm, torturingly slow, making its way from your arm to your shoulder, and then it was time for a brush of long fingers across your neck that made your whole body tremble, and he kept on going until you moved your face so he could cup your cheek in his palm, his thumb brushing delicate circles into your cheekbone. You didn’t dare to move, afraid he would leave your arms, afraid you wouldn’t feel the warmth of his body sipping into your clothes anymore. But then, you felt his warm breath fan over your forehead, near your hairline, and you looked up to see nothing but shadows, your hair brushed against the tip of his nose.

But then you were blinded, as the power was back on, the lights now turned on again.

You both jolted backwards, blinking hard against the outburst of light, and you heard him cursing under his breath.

And just like that he was gone, and you could have cried from the cold that replaced his body in your arms.

It took both of you a moment to regain your composure, to realize what was happening, where you were, what had almost happened.

Almost…

When you caught his gaze again, you couldn’t make out what his hazel eyes were saying, pupils still dilated after spending so long in a dimly lit room and then in complete darkness.

You struggled to swallow, unsure what to do next. Were you supposed to act like you had not been close to kissing a second ago? Were you supposed to joke around again? Were you supposed to talk about it? Were you supposed to ask him on a date?

You read the same hesitations in Andrew’s eyes, although something soon shifted in his gaze. Something determined appeared, and a little scared, but lovely all the same. And before you could react, he had taken a step forward to close back the space between your bodies, had reached up to hold your face in both his hands, and was crushing his lips to yours.

Your brain ceased to function altogether, you were too stunned to realize fully what was happening. But then your braincells caught on, and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders to bring his even closer as you kissed him, sighing in his mouth as he parted his lips to taste you.

For how long did you remain like this, standing in your kitchen, untangled and kissing? Hard to tell, impossible even. But when you broke apart, both of you out of breath, you rested your forehead against his shoulder, and he held you close, as if he were afraid you could leave.

“What the fuck was that?” you asked, your voice full of shock.

He chuckled at your reaction.

“You know, when a man and a woman really like each other, sometimes…”

“Don’t,” you warned him, but couldn’t refrain a smile all the same.

“Sorry, bad timing.”

You looked up at him, and by the look he gave you, you guessed that you weren’t very good at hiding your sudden nervousness.

“I’m not the ‘one-night stand’ type,” you warned him.

Andrew slowly nodded, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Okay.”

“Besides, I’m supposed to hate you so…”

“Hate me?”

“You’re supposed to be the hot but very annoying neighbour who I blame for all of my life’s problems.”

He laughed at that, a smirk forming on his lips.

“You think I’m hot?”

It was your time to laugh.

“You’re not too bad,” you answered, but the look you gave him made him blush.

“Well, you’re not too bad either. Quite the opposite, actually.”

“I’m sure you can do better than that.”

A spark of mischief appeared in his eyes.

“If you want, I can get going with the serenading.”

You laughed again, shaking your head, but playing along all the same.

“Tempting. I won’t give myself away for less than that.”

“Dully noted. I’ll make efforts to woo you properly, I promise.”

You shied away a little, but he held you a little more tightly against him.

“What about a proper date though?” he asked, all traces of humour now gone from his voice. “Tomorrow night?”

You smiled up at him, nodding your head, before burying your face in his shoulder again, and he held you tightly against him in response.

Yeah, he truly was insufferable, without a doubt…

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