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#both how the hiatus happened and how it ends
ruporas · 11 months
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can’t talk about it
[ID: Black and white comic of Vash and Wolfwood from Trigun Maximum. The comic starts with the sounds "thud, thud, click". Vash, mid-action of peeling an apple, turns to the sound, noticing who it was that entered, and says, "Oh, Wolfwood, you're back." He resumes back to his apple in the next panel as he speaks, "Where'd you go? You snuck out of bed quickly this morning..." Wolfwood's hand then enters the panel, hovering over Vash's cheek and Vash looks up as Wolfwood asks, "Can I?" Vash responds, "Not going to talk about it?" while using a hand to gently hold Wolfwood's hovering hand and presses a kiss to his inner palm.
Vash then gets up fully, setting down the knife down on the table and the apple onto a plate, He leans into Wolfwood as Wolfwood explains, "Had to meet someone. Nothing interesting to talk about." Vash kisses Wolfwood's left cheek and a hand moves to cup his other cheek while muttering, "You're being vague." Wolfwood says neutrally, "If yer really that curious, keep askin'. We  can talk about that instead of doing this." Vash leans back and responds, "Let's talk after, since... You look so tired."
The panel pans to a close up of Wolfwood's downcast eyes, bags heavy underneath his eyes. He doesn't allow Vash to sit in that moment for long though, then saying, "Yer not helping, Spikey. Being all slow with it... I could fall asleep right now." He moves his hand to start unclasping Vash's coat, starting from his collar. Vash with red cheeks, responds briskly, "Oh, shut up. I'm worried about you. I can't be worried?"
The final shot shows Wolfwood's back to the viewer while Vash's softened expression can be seen as he holds gently onto the side of Wolfwood's face and a hand firm on his waist. Wolfwood responds, "I'm fine, seriously," pausing for a moment before continuing, "Is it okay to still..?" Vash responds, "Yeah, it's okay."
The next image is a shot from later that night after the previous comic. Vash and Wolfwood are now in bed, half naked. Wolfwood's buries his face into Vash's chest, his arms wrapped around him, while Vash is petting at his hair. Vash reminds him, "Hey. You said we'd talk about it." Wolfwood pauses for a moment before piping up, "In the morning? I'm sleepy." Vash says, "Okay..."
The next two pages start from the morning after. Wolfwood is already fully awake, pulling on his outer jacket as he says to Vash, whos' still bundled in his blankets, "Breakfast is on the table. Make sure to eat it. I'm going to grab some things in town and then we're leavin'. Got it?" Vash says, "Mh." Wolfwood responds, "Good. See ya in a bit." The dialogue starts to shift into Vash's inner thoughts now, as he gets up and eats toast, thinking, "Wait. Weren't we supposed to... talk about it?" The next shot then shows him fully up, meeting Wolfwood in town. He carries a half worried expression with him while Wolfwood slides on his glasses for him. A quick panel shows Wolfwood's tired expression from the night before and quickly juxtaposes with Wolfwood in front of him who's smiling gently, the shades covering his eye bags. Wolfwood asks him, "Still not awake yet?" Vash pauses, his thoughts stirring, thinking, "Oh. I guess I was getting ahead of myself... thinking you owe me that kind of honesty." He smiles at Wolfwood and responds, "I'm awake!" His thoughts continue, "Maybe one day, you'd trust me enough to share your burdens."
The final image shows Wolfwood pulling at Vash's cheek and Vash complains, "Owwwww why..." Wolfwood quickly says, "You were thinking something stupid, right? It's all over yer face." Vash mutters, "Nooo, I wasn't..." END ID]
#vashwood#trigun#trigun maximum#vash the stampede#nicholas d wolfwood#Theyre both thoroughly exhausted tired individuals -- vash having to fight this lonely battle for over a hundred years and getting dragged#back into inevitable situation with knives after a 2 years hiatus of being a gunslinger. they both need so much Rest and comfort in this#department... .SIGHS. BUT I JUST THINK ABOUT WOLFWOOD . AND HOW... LITTLE He has existed on no man's land. how majority of his years being#alive is being used as a weapon and to kill when him at his very core is the most giving and selfless individual ever#badlands rumble inspired me a bit but i do think wolfwood gets dragged into occasional tasks from the eye of michael while on his duty of#guiding vash -- or i think that one chapter where we got to see other members of eom -- there's like a clear division within the eom too#i think.... so i figured similarly to vash but not to the same amount -- there are people that look for wolfwood too. but most of the time#it's probably wolfwood that has to look for someone else and take them out. i feel like it happens ever so occasionally.#evidentially these two don't talk enough canonically but they always know how to express things properly to affirm that they're okay#they have the worst time ever sharing burdens - can't willingly burden the other and has neeever asked for help or reprieve in their#desperate situations... vw is a huge case of right person wrong time syndrome so they just. in the time they get to spend together -- even#if romantically - they don't have enough time to heal to get over that kind of hurdle. They've just never asked for help in all the years#they've been alive -- they don't even know how to and its just aughhhsgskg#and well! they don't even need to ask! because they'll be there for each other anyway at the end of the day -- company and presence alone.#ruporas art
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hannieehaee · 2 months
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Hi! I love your work I was hoping I could request something? this may be a little nsfw but I was wondering how SVT would react to having a girlfriend who likes to cockwarm them? like even after they’re done she just wants them to stay inside her like she could literally go to sleep like that. I just think it’d be interesting! you don’t have to do it though!
18+ / mdi
reaction to you liking to cockwarm them
content: afab reader, smut, cockwarming, mentions of riding, etc.
wc: 966
a/n: thank u for requesting!! i hope i did this justice <3
masterlist
seungcheol -
this wouldve become a common occurrence during his hiatus from seventeen. due to his injury, you'd have to ride him whenever the two of you wanted to have sex. at some point he wouldve dragged you back down as you moved to slip him out of you, pleading with his eyes to stay around him. would probably be unable to control himself and eventually try to fuck into you, not caring for the pain he'd bring himself.
jeonghan -
smirks to himself any time you whine at him when he goes to slip out of you after you're both done. the moment you showed any indication that you wanted to cockwarm him, he'd to squeeze your hips and feel up your ass and back rather than remove you. would entice you into another round after some time, hoping to create a vicious cycle in which he fucked you and you cockwarmed him, only for him to fuck you again.
joshua -
he'd wanna take care of you in any and every way, so if you were too sleepy after sex to get up from his cock, that simply meant you'd be going to sleep with his cock still buried deep inside you. it was a win-win situation for joshua. he'd have a restful sleep with the prettiest girl he'd ever held in his arms, and he'd probably get to fuck you just as the two of you woke up. there were no bad sides to the situation.
jun -
a little caught off guard the moment you simply pressed down against him after both your orgasms had subsided. regardless, he would understand you might be tired and just hold you as the two of you fell asleep. the next morning it would click that you'd slept literally wrapped around each other all through the night. that might've been one of his best sleeps ever, making him want to do it again and again.
soonyoung -
practically becomes hypnotized the moment you bring up cockwarming, now obsessed with the idea. he'd be so giddy every single time the two of you had sex right before going to bed, knowing he'd get to go to sleep while your arms held onto him and your pussy held onto his dick just as tightly. this would become his new favorite act of intimacy to do with you.
wonwoo -
would naturally happen one day in which you rode him while he was gaming. you'd both finish and you'd simply fall limp against him. after a few moments of no movement, he'd ask if you wanted to just stay sitting on his dick (not complaining! just wondering, he'd clarify). after your tired affirmation, he would smile and hold you closer, continuing to game but caressing your back every so often, adoring the intimacy of the situation.
jihoon -
it kills him every time you insist on letting him stay inside, face scrunching up in pleasure at the feeling of your warmth wrapped around him in such an intimate way. would insist that you can only do it for a little bit, knowing he'd probably cum the moment he grew hard again.
dokyeom -
would reluctantly agree, wanting nothing more than to be as close to you as possible, but knowing your cunt would overpower his senses at some point, which would probably make him beg you to fuck him in the middle of the night. the obvious would end up happening, making you ride him in the early hours of the am, only to cockwarm him again all the way into the morning.
mingyu -
he'd nod in agreement so fast his neck would hurt. holding you in his arms after sex? hell yes. being inside you as he held you in his arms as you fell asleep? nothing sounded better to him. would probably underestimate how pussydrunk he could get and beg to fuck you halfway through the night and then proceed to fall asleep buried deep inside you, only to fuck you again in the morning.
minghao -
he'd be a lil flustered at the bold way in which you simply tightened around him the moment he tried to slip out, wordlessly allowing you to lean against him as he stayed buried in you. would easily fall into the habit of you cockwarming him, now looking forward to that part of the day every single day. would feel most relaxed in those moments, feeling a level of intimacy with you he had never before.
vernon -
he'd insist you cockwarm him. after cumming you'd both probably be super spent and wanna rest, so he'd ask if it was okay for him to just stay in your cunt as the two of you cuddled and eventually fell asleep. this would prove to be a bit of a challenge, as the pulsing of your cunt and softness of your walls would probably take him a bit to get used to.
seungkwan -
he would also fall asleep right after sex, only waking up a few hours later to realize you were still wrapped around him as the two of you cuddled. his heart would swell at the warmth he felt both from your embrace and the tightness around him. he'd want this again and again, wordlessly begging you day after day to please give him your warmth as he slept.
chan -
he'd thank god under his breath as soon as you brought it up to him. he'd have wanted to try it out, knowing how warm and cozy it'd be to have you wrapped around him as he held you in his sleep, but he wasnt sure if you'd be into it. would probably underestimate how good itd feel, making him not realize how hard it was going to be to not fuck into you as you slept in his arms.
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surftrips · 4 months
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CROSS YOUR HEART AND HOPE TO DIE
pairing: young coriolanus snow x reader
word count: 600+
summary: based on "follow you" by bring me the horizon. young/slightly ooc coriolanus snow finds comfort in y/n's arms.
a/n: yeah, i can't believe i'm returing from my hiatus with a coriolanus snow x reader fic, but here we are. please feel free to send in prompts/requests with him though ;)
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"Because I don't want to fucking hurt you.” Coriolanus snapped. "God, half the time, I'm scared I could break you, even though I'm doing everything I can to hold back."
Your boyfriend was having a hard time lately. The anniversary of his father's death was creeping up and you knew he was having those thoughts again.
He had confided in you early on in your relationship his two biggest fears: losing you, and turning into his father. Now, he was spiraling with thoughts of both happening.
"Talk to me," you said, trying to reassure him. The two of you were by the lake, entangled in each other's arms on a blanket.
"I- I just..." he was trying to catch his breath. "I'm so angry all the time and you, you're an angel. You've never done anything wrong in your life. I don't deserve you, I don't know how to not fuck this up."
You couldn't help but smile at his name for you, reaching out to caress his cheek. He leaned into your familiar touch, one of the few things that could calm him down when he was like this.
It was true, he did get mad at the smallest things. Just last week, he got jealous of Sejanus for holding up your skirt as you went down the stairs, even though the two of you were clearly just friends.
And yesterday, he was frustrated with something that happened during training and came back to the cabin furious. You had asked him how his day was, like usual, and he had snapped at you.
"It was bad. Do you have to ask me that everyday?" he retorted, knocking over the items on the shelf closest to him.
But even though he got jealous or angry sometimes, you knew that he was working on it. He always felt awful afterward, and always made sure that you knew how sorry he was. That night, he had drawn a bath for you and even added some wild lavender he found near the water.
"Hey, you know I love you, right?" you said.
He sat up slightly to make better eye contact with you, "I do. But what if that's not enough?"
You frowned, "My love isn't?"
"No, no. I meant what if love, in general, is not enough? What if that's not enough to change my fate? Y/N, you know about my father, he was awful."
"I know, Coryo," you sighed. "But I also know you, and you're a good person. You love me, you love the Covey. You care about me, and your family. You want to be good, and I think that is enough."
Still, he didn't seem convinced. "I hate that I can barely remember him anymore, but he's still haunting me. The rebels that killed him haunt me. What if that happens to me?"
"Stop. No one here is going to do that, they know you're on our side. Don't you see? You're trying so hard to not be like your father, but you don't have to try to be good. You just are, deep-down in here," you pointed to where his heart is. "You are."
He leaned down now to pull you into a kiss. "Angel, can you promise me something?"
"What is it?"
"Promise me you'll never leave my side."
"Coryo, you could drag me through hell if it meant I could hold your hand. I will follow you to the ends of the earth. We're in this together."
That seemed to please him, finally. He wrapped his arms tighter around you and pulled you to lay back down with him. The two of you stared up at the stars, each silently wishing for this to work out.
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cheriladycl01 · 1 month
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I loved Lando x Actress reader. Can I have Lando x singer reader? Thank uuuuu 🫶🏻
Sing your heart out because he ripped your heart out! Lando Norris x Singer! Reader
Plot: You are a famous singer who was in a pretty toxic relationship and have been single and 'off the grid' for 2 years since your breakup. You come back online dropping a new album that gets people stirred from the tea but the tease at your new relationship.
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"Today here on Off Camera with me Sam Jones we have Y/N Y/L/N here to talk about everything, from her new albums and songs, to her hiatus, to her sightings, to her relationships" he smiles looking over at you.
"Thank you for having me, it feels great being back and you know talking and meeting new people and I've always wanted to be on a podcast like this so I'm very excited!" you smile and get comfier into the nice seats you guys are in.
"So i think we've got to ask how are you feeling after your time away from the media?"
"So refreshed it was really healing to take myself away from everything. I think a lot of things were being said about me when I first deactivated everything. A lot of them being outright lies, and you know I didn't want to be aware of what people were saying... naturally" you starts and he nods for you to continue.
"But everyday I'd have my friends coming to me saying... have you seen what Taylor Swift has tweeted about you, have you seen what Beyonce and RiRi said. And I'd be like no and I don't even want to know. But when she showed me the love I was getting from all of these amazing people I've worked and collabed with over the years, movie stars who I've walked red carpets with and been in cameos of their movies, models who I've walked runways with all sticking up for me saying how they couldn't imagine anything said about my relationship to be true" you explain and he nods again.
"Yeah, it was actually really moving seeing all these people coming together for you in support! I think even after what certain people said about you the large majority had your back..." he admits to you.
"Yeah, I mean i have some great friends in the industry that you know would message me and always check up on me, so its nice to know that I have people in my corner, after everything that happened!"
"Yeah of course, and I think your new album really shows your raw emotions and I think a lot of people have easily related. So lets go through the album, we have Vicious, which talks about obviously Y/E/B and the emotional scars he's left on you. One of my personal faves is 'bet u wanna' where you talk about being mistreated in relationship and calling it off only for them to want you back. Nonsense which obviously has made your fans go stir crazy- wondering whose got you feeling this way. Bad for Business which obviously has a similar tune to Nonsense in whoever you are talking about, and may i just say people will listen to the happy songs because they are incredible! But talk us through the creative process and how your time away released all of these on the album and more!"
"I think, when you go through something like i did. Where you don't necessarily see and end you have these raw emotions that just tend to write themselves on the paper. I had many nights where I'd be sat in the studio hair pulled back, a massive slice of Pizza on my left and a bottle of water on the other and it would honestly just write itself. There were some nights where I'd just cry and sit there. I think things really sped up when I met my current partner" you blush, thinking how much that silly vroom vroom man had helped you.
"Who is he, and how did he help, how did you both meet if you can tell us!" he asks leaning back a little.
"Well, I'm currently dating F1 driver Lando Norris which when this podcast airs and sure will be a shock to everyone. We met when I was in a really weird patch. I think it had been about 8 months I want to say of being single and dealing through my grief and not really knowing what to do with myself. My ex of 5 years was now dating and having a child with the girl he cheated on me with, and honestly I was a mess. My dad decided to take me to a race, it was the one in Austin, we had paddock passes and that's where I met him" you grin thinking back to the day.
*Flashback*
You were at the Circuit of the Americas for race weekend, you were tucked behind your dad who had found some mechanics he was animatedly talking too. Your dad always had a real love for cars, and when you'd made it as a musician you brought him and your mother a larger house with a big garage for a car collection you'd help him grow.
"Damn you've got loads man. How's your girl affording all of this?" the mechanic asks not having seen you as you were wearing both sunglasses and a Ferrari cap.
"I have a ... lucrative job" you croak out a little, if you were being honest with yourself this was probably the first interaction you'd had with a stranger in months, even just any human at that as your contact had been very limited over the past 8 months even to friends and family.
"Ahhh, so what's your fav car in the collection Mr Y/L/N?" the mechanic asks, and some nods from his pals also tells you guys that their interested.
"Oo that's hard it's got to be a toss up between my Mclaren 650S, the Ferrari F8 Spider, or my Rolls Royce Ghost" your father admits trying to think to his collection.
"Not the Porsche?" knowing you'd got that for him for his 50th.
"Mmmmm I forgot about the Porsche" he admits with a chuckle. The mechanics just all looked very shocked at the sheer amount of cars your dad has in his collection.
"Give me a second, I want to see if I can get you guys a garage pass upgrade. I bet you'll want to check out the car's yeah?" he asks making your dad nod very quickly.
You pull your glasses off to give them a wipe as the heat was making them fog up a little and the mechanic gasps, you cock your head realizing he's recognized you.
He scurries of, running back to the Aston Martin garage, he tells all of his friends but says to keep it quiet as he could tell you'd been going through it. Aston Martin didn't have any passes left, so he went to the other garages begging to give you a pass.
"Who did you say was here?" Lando had asked from beside his team mate Daniel Ricciardo.
"Y/N Y/L/N but don't make it public knowledge she's clearly just here to watch the race with her car enthusiast dad. Who did you know owns over 10 super cars that Y/N has brought for him, he was telling me all about his Ferrari" the mechanic starts to ramble before Lando gets him to stop.
"Take me to her, and I'll give her the pass" Lando had offered, wanting to meet you, it wasn't uncommon knowledge that he liked both you and Taylor Swift and had even DJed some of your 'nightcore' remixes.
"Okay! Okay come with me" the young mechanic said, darting of making Lando run after him asking him to slow down a little.
"Hello, this is a Mclaren Driver he's ..." the mechanic starts before you offer him a small small.
"I know who he is Dean, thank you for introducing us" you smile, and he grins at you. You and your father get handed the passes and your walking back to Mclaren at Lando's side.
He was attractive and most certainly your type. He had that goofiness about him that had you laughing for what felt like the first time in 3 years. Yet a seriousness and passion for his sport when talking to you and your dad about the car he was more than happy to show off to you.
"So you'll only be cheering for me right?" Lando flirts as your dad introduced himself to Daniel Ricciardo and Zac Brown.
"I think that depends Mr Norris, are you going to give me a cheer worthy race?" you question looking up him. His face lights up and a big grin comes onto his face.
"Always, you'll see the Papaya on a podium today I'm sure of it!" he offers and you smirk.
"You get that podium and I'll take you out afterwards"
"On like a date?" he asks a little cautious with his tone.
"Yes a date" you nod and his face lights up.
"Yeah alright, your on" he smirks, he turns away to get ready for his race, but turns back placing a cheeky kiss on your cheek making it your turn to blush.
True to his word, Lando came second on Sunday. You took him out on your guy's first date and the rest is history.
*Back to the podcast*
"Wow, that really is such a beautiful story. And from how you talk about him we can tell that you are really happy" he smiles genuinely.
"I don't think I've ever felt so secure with a person. I think it's safe to say I've found my person. I went through a lot with Y/E/B and Lando has helped me overcome a lot of the trauma from that relationship, and I cannot thank him enough for how patient, caring and loving he has been for the past year" you smile, before turning your gaze to the side to look at a teary Lando who had come to the podcast with you, you were scared and didn't want to go alone.
"Well I think it's safe to say we are all so happy you are back, thriving making music and doing what you do best!" he smiles.
After that your asked a few more questions which you happily talk through and answer, before it's wrapped up and time to leave.
"How was that baby?" he asks knowing this was your first media thing to help ease you back into that 'lime-light' life.
"It felt good to just vent, and talk about everything" you smiled at him. It was truly healing for your soul.
"I love you so much, and I'm so proud of you for today!" he grins at you, pulling you in for a kiss. He holds you close, while another hand travels up to caress the side of your face.
"I love you most, which is why I need you to help me announce the 2023 tour... and my new album!" you grin, and he grins back.
"What are they called?" he mumbles into your neck that he'd found retirement in.
"The Grid!" you grin, Lando didn't know but you planned your next tour for 2023 around the 2023 races.
"Hmmm and what does that entail" he smirks.
"Well, I'll get to come to every race weekend with you this year, my tour is roughly going to follow the races. I'll venture out as well when you have breaks and stuff but I don't want to be away from you for too long, and I want to get back on the scene. I'm ready!" you admit and he smiles at you softly before lifting you up into a huge bear hug.
"Did i mention how much I love you?" he asks.
"Every day Lan, every day" you smile at him, pulling him in for another bruising kiss.
It was safe to say, that even though you'd been treated like shit in the past, Lando Norris was the love of your life. Your soulmate that held the other end of the invisible string that had kept tugging you both closer together.
Taglist:
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solarisfortuneia · 19 days
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— 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬.
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and the smell of camphor dancing in the wind.
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✦ info: he didn't know he'd lose you so soon. (come back, please. even if it is just for five more minutes.)
✦ featuring: alhaitham.
✦ warnings: angst, character death (reader), heartache, 1.2k words, somewhat proof-read.
✦ notes: i cried so goddamn hard writing this. why is my first work after hiatus pain. why did i pick up the angst wip. but!! i'm writing again, so that's good. (more notes at the end.)
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he didn’t know that it was your last day together. 
he didn’t know that the smile you gave him that afternoon, your eyes sparkling like sunlight upon the serene waves of the ocean, would be the last he’d ever see. that the playful light in your gaze would fade so very soon, slipping through his fingers like sand.
he didn’t know that last night would be the last time he held you close while you drifted off to sleep. he didn’t know that today would be the last time he’d wake up with you.
he didn’t think he’d lose you like this. 
he didn’t think he wouldn’t be able to save you from that blow. 
“please, please,”  he begs, both to you and to whatever force that is just barely holding you together. “just stay with me for five more minutes, please. until i can get you somewhere.” 
the rain soaks him to the bone, clothes and hair sticking to his skin. your lips stay motionless, eyes shut.
“wake up, please,”  he bargains. “you can have all the five minutes of extra sleep you want later, i promise. just—”  his vision blurs, and something shines on the ground before it is gone, swallowed by damp earth, lost amidst drops of falling rain. 
desperately, he tears off parts of his traveling cloak to staunch the bleeding. deep inside, he knows it is futile. he knows your wound is too great. he knows what lies ahead. but he cannot help but press the cloths to your wound and pray. 
please, please tell me it’ll be okay. 
please stay with me, beloved. i’ll read you all the books in the world. i’ll sleep in with you everyday, even if we end up whiling away our time. 
please. stay. stay with me. i can’t lose you yet.  
“— just wake up, beloved.” 
by some miracle, your eye flutters. just a bit. just enough to set hope ablaze, just enough for the grip on his heart to loosen a tiny bit. he buries his face in your shoulder, resting his head against your neck, uncaring of the blood that stains his clothes. your blood. on his clothes. his hands. everywhere. 
no. no. this can’t be happening.
he feels you strain beneath him, your unwounded arm gently, weakly brushing his back. he jolts upright, eyes trained on your face. you send a frail smile his way. he clasps your face softly as you nuzzle into his palm.
“alhaitham—” 
his full name. archons, how long has it been since you called him that?  
“— take good care of yourself, okay?” you tell him, chest heaving, your fingertips touching a tear on his cheeks. “i love you. so much.” 
those are the last words he hears fall from your lips. he presses a kiss to your forehead, to your eyelids, and to your cheeks and to your lips, over and over and over until he feels your breath slow, hoping they’ll say what he knows he cannot manage to choke out.
i love you. 
he stays there next to you for who knows how long, holding you until the rain slows and a faint rainbow smiles in the sky.
until he can’t smell camphor anymore.
every person has their curiosities. 
they’re just the little traits that set them apart from others, the things that make them tick just a little bit differently, the things that make them, them.
for instance, someone may be obsessed with collecting tiny furniture, while another eats the crusts off their sandwich before actually consuming it. someone may have an affinity for the most niche aspects of linguistics, while another can accurately predict the next raindrop that slides down a window pane.
after all, no two people are exactly alike, are they?
alhaitham knows he’s got his fair share of these curiosities himself. his aversion to soup and all things that resemble it, to name one. and with you, he’d noticed two things. 
number one: the scent of camphor that seems to linger on every inch of your person. 
he’d caught whiff of it almost immediately the first time you met. you were but one of his juniors in the akademiya, filled with bright-eyed curiosity and anxiety to match. you had tripped over a stair and bumped into his table in the library, bringing the mountain of books in your arms crashing down.
and with subsequent coincidental meetings, he learnt that the subtle scent of camphor dancing in the air meant you weren’t far away. 
you were, unfortunately, one of the poor souls who seemed to be cursed with constantly recurring minor illnesses, and almost always walked about with a stuffy nose. and so, you always carried a small disc of camphor in a handkerchief, as well as in your pocket.
you swore up and down, left, right and center that sniffing the vapors helped make breathing easier.
‘it’s my grandmother’s remedy, alhaitham! camphor always works wonders. well, that and eucalyptus oil.”
alhaitham may not know the validity of your claim or the legitimacy of the cure, but he knew to never, ever question a grandmother’s remedy. that, and he’d much rather refrain from starting a back-and-forth about something so small.
and number two: your neverending pleas of different variations of ‘just five more minutes!’ 
“five more minutes, ‘haitham. please.” you’d whine grumpily when he woke you up to start your day. “let me sleep in for five more minutes.” 
“five more minutes, habibi,” you’d ask when he put down the story you’d requested he read out to you before bedtime. “read me the part where she finds the music box?”
“five more minutes, baby,” is what you’d tell him when he asks how much longer you’d take getting ready. “you can’t rush perfection!”
those five more minutes were never five minutes long. 
but he’d always, always indulged you and those pleading eyes of yours. as stoic as he appeared to be, you lived in his heart. of course he could never deny you anything under the sun.
alhaitham remembers that silly little song you sang over and over, the one you’d learnt from a kid in the bazaar. he’d taken you to see one of nilou’s performances, and, friendly soul that you were, you’d struck up a conversation with some of the eager audience members before the play. 
“oh, how i wish i was a bird flying free,
i’d see the world, every mountain and every sea!
oh, how i wish i was a cloud in the sky,
wouldn’t you like to wave to me as i pass by?”
you’d hum that rhyme on every idle afternoon.
loss is inevitable. he knows that, with how logical and rational and straightforward he is. he’d lost his parents, but he was far too young to remember. he’d lost his grandmother, but she passed in her sleep of old age, serene and wise.
but you? he didn’t think you’d leave him this soon. a singular wish sits in his soul, making its home in his bones. 
a wish that you’d come back, somehow. 
he wishes you gave him five more minutes, just as he always did.  but he knows that you could’ve given him five more hours, five more days, five more years and five more decades and it would still not be enough time spent with you. 
a blue feathered bird comes to perch on his shoulder, interrupting his musings just as he raises his face to the sky. he sees the heart shaped cloud that floats idly above sumeru city.
 he thinks of the rhyme again, and something in him tells him to wave. and so he does. a scent so familiar lingers, faintly brushing his nose in the wind that picks up.
“alhaitham, it's time to go.”  kaveh calls his name softly.
 alhaitham doesn't move. “five more minutes,”  he says, echoing your favorite phrase. “i smell camphor in the breeze.” 
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✦ extra notes: my alhaitham characterization for this fic stems from how i believe that when alhaitham is attached, he's attached. so i focused more on that, and less of all that rationality and whatnot. this one loves deeply, yk?
that camphor thing is a real grandma remedy in our household (my mom would tie some in a hanky and put some under my pillow and still to this day reminds me to do it when i'm sick) which is what originally sparked the idea for this
when i'd initially started this wip, i didn't expect it go this way. usually i write with my brain, but i think i wrote this one with my fingers working faster than i can think hsjhsj so sorry if it's kinda out of place lmao but yk what? i'm happy with it still even though i feel like it doesn't have my usual quality.
thanks for reading.
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frannyzooey · 7 months
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Short Days, Long Nights: 13
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Joel Miller x f!reader
Series Masterlist
Rating: E (pregnancy sex, lactation, grief)
A/N: Thank you endlessly for being so patient with me while I've been on hiatus ❤ I'm gonna stay off for another couple weeks, but I didn't want to leave you hanging for too long. I appreciate every single person that has stuck with me on this! Thank you to @the-ginger-hedge-witch and @the-scandalorian for helping me with this one - you both are the biggest brains and the most wonderful writers and I am insanely lucky to have you on my team. Enjoy! ❤
--
Jackson. 
The image of the map is burned into Joel’s mind, always present. 
More concerned with your safety than anything, he knows you should leave, but as the weeks slip by, what picks at him more is that he didn’t have an answer to your question that day. 
“Where are we gonna go?”
He should be one step ahead. He should be on top of the potential outcomes. He should have a plan, since that’s always been his role. Stepped up with one when he had Sarah, took care of Tommy before the Outbreak, and after, led their way in the QZ. After Tommy left, he still did it, even if he was going through the motions more than anything. Doing it has always been second nature, a means to survive. 
You’d let his lack of answer drop because he knew you didn’t want to leave, and of course, he knew you shouldn’t. Not right now. But still - still - he should have had a plan for something he knew was bound to happen sometime. Blinded by the light of your fierce optimism and wanting so badly to believe in it, he simply…didn’t think about it. The first time that’s happened in decades. 
You’re depending on him, and for the first time in a long time, he didn’t have an answer ready.
“Where are we gonna go?”
He doesn’t fucking know.  
Wood dust floats to settle on the floorboards around his boots, and he runs a piece of sandpaper over the beam of rough lumber that rests across his lap. The rhythmic sweeps soothe his nerves, and he tries to focus on how good it feels to do something useful with wood again. Something familiar, the dry grain sliding against his palms. A task done because he wants to, instead of as a means to get by like so much else in his life. 
This…this was for him, and for you. 
The late afternoon sun streams through the window in the shed, not quite enough to dissipate the chill. Crisp air breezes in through the open door, the sweet smell of damp leaves blending with the wood and the tips of his fingers are cold enough to stop, but he doesn’t. He has to make the most of your nap times if he wants to get this done before next week. 
Before Christmas - or the closest approximation to the date anyway, using your rudimentary calendar. Celebrating the holiday had been your idea, and like every other time when it came to something you asked for, he couldn’t say no. He said yes when you asked him to cut you a tree, nodded when you pointed to the one you wanted after a trek through the woods, helped you rip strips of red, moth bitten flannel that was worthless for clothing just to watch you tie bows to the end of the branches, as a means to decorate it. 
He was impressed by your constant resourcefulness and ingenuity when it came to the things you’d been given, and at night, when the lantern shone on it and bathed the living room in a cozy glow, it almost did feel like Christmas time. The closest thing to it that he’s felt in years, anyway. 
Placing the sandpaper on the floor and picking up a knife, his mind follows the trail marked on the map. Winding through woods and across open swathes of land, it passes right through your area and he knows it’s only a matter of time before someone else follows the first. He knows that man can’t have been the only one with a map. 
He frowns, gouging the wood a little more forcibly as he works through a knot, and he pictures the curve of your cheek, the delicate line of your neck, the bright happiness in your eyes here. That Christmas tree, in the front room. Torn between the idea of the unknown being just as unsafe as being a sitting duck at the cabin, he is restless with the need to move. The urge to keep you tucked away and protected from the world spreads beneath his skin and grows stronger every day, along with your stomach. 
It’s large enough that it strains against the shirts you’ve borrowed from him, and though you’ve started choosing large sweatshirts instead, it’s begun to push against those too. You’ve begun to sway when you stand in place, an unconscious rock as a means to relieve pressure on your lower back, and he pictures you doing the same with a baby in your arms as you stand next to the cradle that he’s been building.
When he thinks about leaving it behind only to gather dust as he drags you somewhere else, the image eats at him, reminding him too much of another room, left behind to rot. 
Another life, upended by abrupt violence. 
Guilt has always gnawed at him for so many things, and following the mental image of you holding a baby, he adds to the growing list: the idea of another child replacing the one he had. 
He fixates on all the things he couldn’t do for her on that last day but also the things time has robbed from him: the image of her face, the sound of her laugh. The books she liked, the order in which she lost her teeth, the weight of her infant body in his arms. How much of that time he spent without her while trying to provide for her, and how here, he’s got all the time in the world for this new child. His new child. 
More feelings; the knife gouging deeper. Looking forward to a holiday that can’t include her, nervously anticipating holding a baby that belongs to him, looking at you and what you’ve built together and being so fucking happy he missed his mark on that bleak day ten years ago. 
Is it betrayal to feel joy?
He’s not replacing her. He knows that. He knows, and yet the guilt never stops and so neither do his hands nor his mind, both working on fixing other problems that can be fixed. 
Jackson. 
A bed for the baby.
“I know it would be cold, but I think I’d rather have snow.”
You look out at the sodden garden, the neat, large borders that surround it blending in with the damp landscape. The fence that Joel built the only visual marker of where it’s at, it’s prepped for winter, buried in a dense layer of leaves and compost. You absentmindedly finger the leaf of a plant you brought inside with you, sheets of rain sliding down the window. 
“Not me,” he says. “Might look pretty, but it would be a whole lot more dangerous.”
The blurred, muted mash of colors outside all blend together, the world a canvas of dingy brown and bleak gray. Everything soggy and limp, everything saturated with wetness: at this very moment, you’d take danger over another day of this. 
Turning away from the depressing sight, you watch him sort through a pile of loose screws and nails on the coffee table. His head bent in his task, his shirt pulls tight across his shoulders as he hunches over and nudges each piece of metal with the tip of his finger, sorting them. Listening to the pleasant clink of them being dropped into glass jars, you go back to watering the plants. 
After a process that had you pouring over the gardening book for days, you left what you could in the garden in order to have a good base for the spring, but took the rest inside, to see if you could keep growing anything through the winter. 
Mismatched buckets and pots, an amalgamation of anything that would hold enough soil to plant a seed in, it was an experiment for sure. Enough was stored in the pantry to get you through the winter if you stayed lean enough about rations, and Joel had been pushing his portions upon you like there was no tomorrow, constantly assuring you that he had plenty. 
“What is this?”
Stopping to stretch his back with a groan, he’s picked up a loose, shapeless scrap of fabric off the couch. 
“Wait –” you protest, setting the watering can down. 
He frowns at it, turning it in his hands, and when you make a hasty grab for it, he keeps it out of your reach with a chuckle.
“This my present, honey?” His facial expression still puzzled, he tries to work out what it is. 
“It’s for the baby,” you explain. Coming to stand next to him, you turn it upright. “See? This is the neckhole, and the arms go here.”
“.......And the legs?”
“I’m not that good at sewing, okay?” you defend yourself with a laugh. “I thought maybe their legs could just hang out in this little…sack area.”
You make a self deprecating face, looking to him for a reaction, and he fingers the bottom of it. 
“That ain’t bad. You should see if you can tie up the bottom, you know, for a draft or somethin’.”
“I used all the spare laces on the pants. I tried to make some, but of course I don’t have elastic and I don’t know how big to make them around the waist for a button, so I thought I could just cut two holes and make like, a little belt so that it would grow with the baby and...”
Your words taper off when you realize he’s staring up at you with an amused expression and you let your shoulders drop in defeat. “This kid is gonna look like they’re from the eighteen hundreds, aren’t they.” 
“I guess you would know, with the books you’re always readin’,” he says with a grin, and the stack of historical fiction next to your side of the bed comes to mind. 
“Oh God,” you moan quietly to yourself. 
Standing with a soft grunt, he bends to press a kiss to the crown of your hair. 
“Don’t worry about it,  honey,” he murmurs. “You about ready for bed? I’m gonna go do a final lap.”
Checking the perimeter of the cabin while you bank the wood stove for the night, he eventually joins you in the bedroom, bringing in the smell of cool night air with him. Already in bed, you’re propped against the headboard with your book in hand, and you admire him as he gets ready for bed himself: the edges of his curling locks catching the light in a glowing chestnut, the warmth held in his tanned skin as he peels off his shirt, the soft give of his still trim stomach as he pads over to bed. He climbs in, adjusting the covers around the two of you. 
“What about Mae?” you ask absentmindedly, skimming the book in front of you. 
He shrugs. “Not bad.”
You make a face at the reception. “What about….Lauren?”
Stretching out on his side to face you, he rests his hand on your bump, smoothing the fabric of your sleep shirt down. A small movement nudges underneath his palm, and the corner of his mouth lifts. An intimate, quiet moment, you keep reading while he chases the constant movements with his touch, his fingers splayed wide, searching. 
“Always so squirrely at night,” he says, the words rounded with softness. 
“Tell me about it,” you sigh. 
You set your book to the side and slide down next to him as he reaches to turn off the lantern, and the two of you lay facing each other, your belly between the length of your bodies. His hand finds your stomach again, and you let yours rest over it, guiding his touch lower. Lower, until the tips of his fingers brush against the band of your underwear and also right where a set of feet (or hands) slide underneath your skin. The taut skin shifts with rapid movement, a sensation that never fails to mesmerize you, but it’s something else when he’s the one who gets to see it. Watching him experiencing it is your favorite. 
“What about Margaret? I’ve always liked that name.”
He makes a face, telling you all you need to know. “What makes you so sure it’s gonna be a girl?” 
You shrug, lifting the hem of your shirt so you can feel his skin on yours, and his hand slides right back into place. 
“Have you thought of any names?” you ask quietly.
“I, uh…I was sorta thinkin’ about June.” His dark eyes flit up to yours. “After June Carter Cash. Or Pearl, after –”
“You wanna name my baby after Pearl Jam?” your eyebrows raise. You’ve heard him humming “Future Days” while working outside, you know the band is a favorite of his. 
He grins at your reaction. “That a no?”
“I should have guessed it would be music related,” you tease with a smile, scooting closer. “I like June. It’s pretty.”
The gentle exploration of his touch soothes you, and you close your eyes to savor it. 
“What about boy names?” you ask. “I can’t really think of any. It’s actually what makes me think it’s a girl, like she’s trying to tell me something.”
“I haven’t thought of too many either. Thomas, for my brother, maybe?”
“That’s a good one.” You yawn, and sleep softly rounds the edges of your words. “Are you ready for next week?”
The preparation of his gift has your hands aching and grasping one with the other, you rub the tender knuckles, working some of the soreness out. Wordlessly, he reaches for your hand and takes it into his own, kneading the joints. 
“I think so. S’kinda nice, havin’ a Christmas.” His touch lingers on the tips of your fingers, warming them. “Too cold in here? I can put another log on if you want.”
“No, it’s just…they ache. They're so swollen they get stiff sometimes. I don’t think the damp is helping.”
You hear it now, peppering the window in the dark. The steady drum of rain on the window, the sound makes the room all the more inviting: warm and safe, his body heat radiating underneath the quilt. He keeps rubbing your fingers, his own larger hands cradling your smaller one, and akin to someone rubbing your back to sleep, the touch lulls you, your eyes fluttering shut. 
“This good?” His mouth brushes lightly against your knuckles, his lips pressing against your fingers before he breathes warm air on them. 
“Mmmm, yea.” Silent for a moment, you speak. “Joel?”
He hums in acknowledgement of his name, and you voice the nightly request you started asking him weeks ago. 
“Tell me what you know.”
A prompt he’s seemingly ready for, he shifts to get comfortable, letting out a sigh. The motion similar to someone getting ready to tell a bedtime story, your reaction to curl tight next to him is the same. 
The first time you asked him this, he barely remembered anything. Other memories taking their place, the finer details of pregnancy and birth were buried deep, most of them forgotten. He remembered the doctor's visits but not the frequency. The general concept of birth but not the stages. The pain, but as someone who didn’t go through it, he couldn’t tell you what labor actually felt like. 
All guesses and long ago recollections, you took them because they were better than nothing. Tonight, he tells you about the night feedings. 
“Babies, they uh…” he begins in his gravely, lowered voice, trying to speak softly in the darkness. “You know they eat every couple of hours or so for a while after they’re born. Weeks of it.”
You nod against his shoulder, listening to his deep drawl. 
“I don’t remember much because when you don’t get a lot of sleep it all tends to blur together, y’know? But I do remember some of them. Peaceful, sometimes. Everything is so quiet and still, and there ain’t nothin’ but you and them, sittin’ together.”
He stops, and you reach up to brush your fingers along the edge of his jaw, just enough to let him know you’re listening. He sighs, a heavy, contemplative thing. 
“They are so small in your hands. So small it’s scary. I remember bein’ so careful, always feelin’ like I was gonna accidentally hurt her, or –” his breath hitches, and he swallows hard. He’s silent for a moment, and your breath slows and evens out. “Anyway, they don’t let you get any sleep, not for a few months, but sometimes….sometimes, you don’t mind.”
Your body loose and relaxed next to his, you’re on the edge of sleep when the words tumble softly out of your mouth. 
“Joel?”
“Yea?” 
“I’m scared.” The confession is whispered into his bare skin, and you breathe in his comforting, familiar smell, the steady drum of his heart beating underneath your cheek. His hand is a weighty drag down the line of your spine, the feeling of it steadying you. 
The wind blows outside, rain pelting the glass. 
“I know, honey,” he answers. “Me too.”
Long after you’ve fallen asleep, he stays awake, his mind lost in a memory. 
Her tiny body rigid with deceiving strength, he struggles to force her arm into a small sleeve. His hand is huge compared to her fragile arm, her skin downy soft under his palm, and moonlight shines through the window in her bedroom just enough to light the features of her scrunched, upset face. A small wail pierces the darkness, and succeeding in dressing her, he lifts her up. 
One hand cupping her entire bottom with the other covering her back, he makes low shushing sounds with his mouth to soothe her, inhaling the milky sweet smell that clings to her skin. 
“Hey baby girl, shhh. I got you. I got you.”
Her tiny face burrows into his chest, her body squirming until she gets comfortable, and he keeps soothing with low hums, his hand rubbing a slow circle over her purple pajamas as she settles. 
Moving slowly so as not to disturb her, he sits down in the rocking chair and continues to hold her; the carpet plush under his bare foot that gently pushes off the floor. His sleep blurred eyes focus on the small turn of a glass butterfly that hangs from her window, the rounded curves catching the moonlight as she sleeps on his chest. 
He lets the unearthed, vivid memory wash over him as his chest constricts, the pain suffocating. Finding himself in this position more and more since you started asking him about what he remembers, he closes his eyes and succumbs to the pain: worth it, to see her face again. To remember things he’d thought he’d forgotten. 
The edges of the memory blur and crumble, his mind losing its focus on that purple room and on the cusp of sleep, he tries to grasp and hold on tight to the details until they fade away. 
“Keep your eyes closed, okay? Wasn’t much to wrap with.” 
Anticipation thrums through you, your features lax with fondness as you wait patiently on the living room floor with your eyes closed. A fire crackles in the wood stove next to you, shadows pooled in the corners of the living room where the light doesn’t reach, and you scoot a little closer to absorb more heat. 
Never one to linger in bed, he’s been up since dawn, and when you awoke alone, there was a  weighted, peaceful stillness in the air—a significance to the day that was at best, a guess. Still, you felt it all the same: through drinking tea with him on the back porch this morning, through reading on the couch this afternoon, through helping him prep the small feast you allowed yourselves for dinner. 
You hear and feel a shift in the air when he comes to sit in front of you, setting your present at your feet. 
“Okay, you can open ‘em.”
Laughter bubbles bright and loud when you see what it is.
“Joel Miller, you shouldn’t have.” Picking up the bottle of vinegar, you tilt it in the light to see how much is left: about half, which is a find indeed. “How long have you been hiding this?”
He shrugs, looking pleased with your reaction. “Not too long. I found it when I went to check out that last cabin. I know it’s not a lot, but I thought it would be useful.”
Vinegar means pickling, means cleaning, means acid for the soil of your plants that you moved inside for the winter, and even though the label is half peeled off and the contents might not be as potent as they once were, you have never been so happy to see a bottle of the stuff in your life. 
“Thank you,” you say softly, leaning forward as much as you can, presenting your lips for a kiss. He gives you one, and you pull back, your mouth twisted in an apologetic pout. “This is a way better gift than what I got you.”
“That’s not true,” he argues. “You fixed my favorite jacket. Feels brand new.”
After snagging it on a tree branch while hunting, he had been so disappointed when he inspected the size of the rip when he came home. Handing it to you, he had declared it no good anymore and told you to use it for something else, but knowing it was his favorite, you’d been mending it in secret while he went out for the day. Textiles being a scarcity aside, that jacket was also your favorite: it’s the one he’s been wearing since you first started out; the sight of it comforting to you. 
“I actually got you somethin’ else, but you’ll have to close your eyes again.”
You automatically squeeze your eyes shut, your hands playfully grabbing the air as you squirm on the floor, and the sound of his low chuckle makes you smile wider. Hearing the front door open and then close, you frown when the object he places at your feet sounds heavy.
“Okay, open em’ up.”
It’s immediate, the way your expression drops from delight into something more reverential. Your breath frozen in your lungs, you reach out and touch the smooth edges of the cradle. Tracing the perfectly fit together corners, you take in how small it is – so small - but perfect. 
Your eyes lift to meet his, tears blurring your vision. “Did you make this?”
“Yea,” he replies softly. “I kept in the shed, workin’ on it when you were napping. I knew we needed somewhere to put her, so I thought –”
“Her?” Your fingers brushing along the neat edges, you look up at him with a small, watery smile, and he matches it with a soft one of his own. 
“Sure, why not. You’ve convinced me.” Affection is open and obvious on his face, the lines that normally crease his forehead softened as he watches you look it over. 
“This is…so much, Joel. It’s beautiful. I don’t even know how…I was thinking we’d have to put her in a dresser drawer or something, and I –” Overwhelmed with his thoughtfulness, you’re at a loss for words. “Thank you,” you eventually settle on, hoping the sincereness in your words expresses everything you feel. 
“You look so surprised,” he says, teasing laced in his tone. “Did you really think I would get you just a half bottle of vinegar for Christmas?” 
“I don’t know!” you laugh, a hitch in your breathing as you settle your emotions. “We can’t exactly go Christmas shopping, so I figured you did the best you could.”
He reaches to swipe a tear from the round of your cheek, and you chase the heat of his palm, leaning into it. “It’s been so long since I gave anyone a Christmas present. Glad I’m not totally out of practice.”
Gently sliding the cradle out of the way, you rise to your knees to give him a kiss. 
“I love it.”
You kiss him again, his lips tinted red from the wine at dinner, and the bitterness sweeps through your mouth when he gifts you a slow slide of his tongue. The tentative heat held in his response passes to you, and swallowing his hunger, it spreads through your limbs to pool between your legs. Pressing forward, your hand reaches out for his shirt, and you deepen the kiss.
You hope it conveys everything you want to put into words but can’t: appreciation, love, gratitude. Keeping your mouth on his, you slip your hand around the back of his neck and threading your fingers up through his locks, you hold him in place, his hand grasping your elbow to steady you as a soft sound rumbles from his throat. 
“I guess you really liked it.”
You just nod, pulling him in for another kiss, his familiar taste and scent filling your senses as he presses himself closer, and when you let out the catch of a moan in your throat, he pulls back just far enough for you to see hooded want in his eyes.
“We done with the gift exchange?” He presses a kiss to your your throat, his lips warm and delicate over the skin he finds and you nod, letting him taste.
“Here,” he asks, his mouth moving just below your ear, “or in the bedroom?”
“Here,” you breathe, cupping his whiskered cheeks to pull his mouth back to yours. Your hand slips between his thighs, finding him half hard under his jeans, and groaning into your mouth, he shifts on the floor to kneel in front of you. Your fingers work the buttons of his flannel open, pushing it from his shoulders at the same time he grabs the hem of your shirt to work it over your head and off. Undoing your bra, you fling it onto the floor as his hand reaches back to tug his t-shirt off in a smooth, overhand motion, and your hands drop to his belt buckle, tugging it open.  
The back of your knuckles swipe through the line of coarse hair that leads under the waistband of his jeans, a slight shakiness to your movements betraying the need you feel, and it’s something he sees and rewards with another consuming kiss.
The rest of your clothes tugged off in a rush, he rests his back against the couch and guides you onto his lap, the soft inside of your thighs straddling the outside of his firmer ones. One of the only comfortable positions you’ve got left, it’s been your favorite because it gives him unfettered access to your breasts and when he palms them in appreciation, anticipation sends a warm thrill up your spine. 
Using both his hands, he cups the sides of your jaw to draw you in, holding you in place while he opens your mouth with his, his tongue sliding smoothly against yours. His fingertips dig into the nape of your neck, one hand dropping to palm the plush weight of your breast, and you kiss him back even harder while he delicately teases your nipple with his thumb. 
The calloused pad skims over the top of it, the contrast between the tender touch and the fierceness of his kisses making your head swim with arousal, and pulling back, he takes in your kiss-swollen mouth only for a moment before bending his attention to your breast. 
Using the cradle of his hold, he pushes it up to draw the peak of it into his mouth, and your head tips back, a broken cry coming from your throat. 
“Please. Please.”
He would give you anything – anything – you ask for, and this is no different. He laves his tongue over the peaked bud, dragging firm pressure over it as he draws it into his mouth, and when you dig your fingers into his hair and pull with a moan of pleasure, his hand cups the underside of your breast to push more in. Frenzied, rough, desperate for more, a deep groan slides out of his throat at the same moment you feel a strange, tingling sensation on your nipple. 
Surprise shows in his brown eyes when they flick up to yours, and pulling back, you both stop. 
“Was that –” you ask, and he looks down at your breast, his thumb dragging delicately along the peak. 
“Yea, I think it was,” he answers, slightly mesmerized. 
A drop of milky liquid hangs from the tip of your breast, and he wipes it away, smearing it on your soft skin. Another one takes its place, and his eyes flicker with interest. 
“Holy shit.” 
The words slip out faster than you can stop them, and the corresponding lift of his eyebrows makes you laugh, his own deeper chuckle joining your lighter one. He pulls you in for a kiss right as you’re leaning down for one, and you find there was no hunger lost while the moment was broken; instead it comes back even stronger as you wrap your arms around his shoulders and he holds onto your back with a splayed grip so fierce it makes you squirm. 
Unsure of when you started grinding your hips against his, you work them slightly faster. Spread and wet on his lap, you’re so achingly empty right over where you can feel the heft of him pressing between your bodies, and fire lights under your skin with how much you want him to just take. 
He’s been so careful with you, so considerate in his handling of your body these last few weeks. Always taking care of every need that you have, he’s done so with no less attentiveness, but you can tell that he’s been holding back—a telling rigidness to his muscles when he moves above you, a tightness to his strokes every time he fucks you as if he’s keeping his body  in check to make sure he doesn’t lose himself. Missing the sharp edges to his love, you kiss him harder, and he groans as if in pain, his tongue sliding deep into your mouth. His beard rubs your chin raw, the pressure of his response forcing your body to tip back slightly in his hold.
“Fuck me,” you whine, the words breathless against his lips, and he groans again, breaking your kiss. 
“Christ, honey, turn around.”
Desperate to follow anything he tells you to do, you grip his shoulder to steady yourself as you turn yourself around, your back to his front. His mouth is an immediate brush against the nape of your neck, a heady sensation that has you melting back into him, and his hands travel up your sides to cup your breasts, pulling at the peaks. 
Your ass grinds in his lap, the thick, stiff line of his cock trapped between your bodies, and when you arch your back and lean forward in a silent invitation, he reaches down to line himself up. Easing yourself back down, the stretch is delicious but so tight it’s almost unbearable. 
“Goddamn,” he groans over your breathless whine. 
Wrapping your smaller hands around his thick wrists for purchase, you pull at your bottom lip with your teeth as you sink all the way down to the base, and when he’s fully seated inside you, he bands his arms just under your breasts in a tight hold, keeping you in place. You can feel how hard he’s breathing between your shoulder blades, his beard rubbing against your skin, and squirming in his lap with a soft sound, you start to roll your hips. 
He’s so deep this way, so much deeper than he’s been in weeks, and taking a moment to get used to it with a couple of slick strokes down, you chase the thick, filling stretch of his cock. Leaning forward, you brace your hands on his knees, and the deep groan you hear from behind you makes you wetter; your body physically reacting to his wordless praise. 
“You feel so fucking good, honey. So good.”
His hands traverse your back—one splayed wide to drag heavily down your spine, the other curled around your hip to guide your movements–and when you bend forward as much as your stomach allows, his hand drops to your ass, spreading you from behind. 
“I wish you could see how wet my cock is. I want you to see how you’re soakin’ it.”
“I can feel it,” you moan, your hips working faster. 
You can: every down stroke is smooth and audible, the tight walls of your cunt stretching around him to take him perfect and fluid every single time, and when you start to pull him deeper, he sits forward with a cinch, pulling you back towards his body. The solid, warm wall of his chest cages you in, his arm looping around your hip so his hand can reach your clit, and when he finds it, everything spreads warm and thick from your center outwards, your head tipping back to rest against his shoulder. 
“There’s my girl,” he smiles when your body drapes pliant and loose against his, your hips chasing the pressure of his fingers. Forward into his touch and backwards onto his cock, you can hear him breathing heavy and low into your ear and your hands find his forearms to hold on tight, your nails digging into the thick muscles as you work yourself faster. 
He rubs your clit in quicker, more precise circles, just right with the firm slip of two calloused fingers, and your thighs tighten in their tremble, your release a bright, shining edge that beckons. 
When it happens, it breaks you – clamping tight around him as you’re suspended in a state of strained rapture, his hand comes up to cradle the base of your throat in a possessive hold while his other hand keeps working, and a second wave takes you by surprise, washing over your skin as you cry out. You can feel the wetness that soaks his fingers when he reaches down to feel where you’re stretched around him, letting out a groan against your skin. 
His hand smears damply across your hip as he lifts you from his lap, slipping out as he guides you on to your hands and knees, and loose and pliant, you let him position you anyway he wants. 
“Just a little more, honey. Just a little longer,” he coaxes. 
Resting your cheek on the floor, you arch your back to put yourself on display for him as you catch your breath, but it’s stolen just as quickly when he gives you a rough, open mouthed kiss to your cunt. He eats you like a man starved, the wet muscle of his tongue flattening against you as he keeps you open with his hands splayed on your ass, and a deep rumbled groan is felt against the inside of your thighs when you reach back to tug on his hair. 
His tongue dips deep inside you for a taste, and just when he pulls back, he goes in for more, like he’s changed his mind because he can’t get enough. Harder this time, more forceful, the action pushing your hips forward, and when you cry out, he’s dragging himself back, pulling away to position himself. 
The heat of his body radiates along the back of your thighs, the thick tip of his cock notched against the slick dip of your entrance only for the barest of moments before he pushes himself in with a stroke of his hips, and you hear a hiss behind you, one you almost don’t catch over the low moan that spills out of your mouth.
“You’re so fucking tight,” he groans, his hips fitting neatly along your ass. He slides out and then back in, giving you time to adjust to his size. “I want – Christ – I want…can you take it harder for me?”
“Yes. God yes. Please.”
He answers with a rougher slide in, an audible muted pound of his hips against your skin. “You tell me if it’s too much, honey, okay?”
After turning your head and nodding so he can see you, he gives you another rough, smooth stroke in and then another one, each one filling you until the air feels like it’s being pushed from your lungs, and then he picks up his pace, letting out a low, heavy breath for every thrust. It sounds obscene: his rumbled, low groans and grunts, but you can barely focus on it for how sensitive you are to his thickness. Everything tighter, the fit is a snug, slick slide in every time, and you squeeze around him, earning you another hiss of appreciation. 
“This pussy is gonna kill me,” he groans and then holds nothing back: his hips snapping against you with his hand resting flat on your tailbone, every jolt rocking your body forward. 
Exactly what you asked for and what you’ve been missing, you let him know. 
“It feels…it feels so good. God I’ve missed this.”
“Yea?” The word is a breathless growl, and you clench down on him again. “What about this? Did you miss this too?”
His hands wrapping around the inside of your elbows, he tugs you back and up until your back is arched with your ass in his lap and then he’s pounding into you. 
“Joel!” 
Faster and harder, his hips work ceaselessly behind you for a dozen strokes and when he comes, his fingers dig tight into your skin, your arms aching as he holds you in place to take every last drop. Panting behind you, his strokes slow into a rhythmic grind and sliding out, he eases you gently down onto the floor where you slump, your cheek resting on the fold of your arms.
Dazed and loose, with a content smile on your lips, you lay down on your side and he joins you, dropping to the floor. His arm slung over his eyes, you watch his pulse pound in his neck as he tries to catch his breath. 
“So…was that also a Christmas present, or….?” you tease, the question coming out slow and saturated with contentment, and he laughs, a breathless thing that’s carefree and deep. 
“Sure,” he answers, rolling onto his side. “Merry Christmas.”
The light of the flames dancing across your bare body, shadows slide over his tanned skin and the bluntness of his reply makes you laugh. 
The two of you look at each other for a moment, his hand coming up to brush away an errant lock of hair from your temple. His hand glides down the length of your torso, coming to rest on the swell of your stomach and leaning in, his mouth meets yours.  
Still smiling, you cup his cheek and with a slick slide leaking between your thighs, pull him closer to deepen the kiss.
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dulcewrites · 1 year
Text
Fool Me Once (pt 2)
Pairing: Aemond targaryen x reader (wc: 3.6k)
Summary: Despite learning about Aemond cheating on you, life has never been sweeter. Who knew being so bad could be so good.
Warnings: manipulation, mentions/allusions to pregnancy issues, mentions of self harm
A/N: first, I just have to say thank you for the response to part 1. I truly had no idea it would get the reception it would. Thank you to everyone who followed me as well. I hope I can continue to produce stuff y’all like. I’m hoping to write more hotd stuff, Aemond and non Aemond related. I plan on taking a small hiatus but will be back around thanksgiving weekend. I will be writing on/off during that time but just away for a trip/the holiday. If you have any hotd requests my inbox is always open. I would try to get them out either before my hiatus next week (11/16) or after it ends (11/26). I’m pretty open to writing any character, though I will warn you I’m way more fascinated by the greens so they just come easier to me. Anyway please reblog, like, and follow if you read anything you enjoy 🫶🏽🫶🏽. And some housekeeping: in this Aegon is not r*pist who enjoys watching children fight (the hotd are truly…. not right for the cartoonishly evil way they wrote Aegon). He’s just petty and neglected. Also the timing of this is different from the books bc Aemond meets Alys pre dance.
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A bastard Strong. The irony is not lost on you. Your straight-laced husband fucking someone who is the complete opposite you. Older, no kids, no title, and no duty to uphold. At this point, it doesn’t hurt anymore. Instead, it makes your blood boil in the most delicious way. Aemond’s betrayal made you realize how you’ve been going through the motions; endlessly sleepwalking, hoping one day Aemond would come around. It woke you up to how much he’s taken advantage of you. He sees your kindness, and aversion to standing out as a weakness. Something he can manipulate and twist like one of his daggers.
The both of you must have forgetten where you came from. A rich, well respected house. The only daughter of smart, albeit conniving, family that knows how to get what they want. Your family didn’t have dragons or absurd ideas of exceptionalism to help you gain power. You’ve learned that inflated egos and prideful indulges can cloud Targaryen judgment. A trait you hope skips your children.
Shame on you for thinking Aemond would be different. Shame on him for the carefully curated facade.
All you do after Larys Strong comes to you the first time is think. You can’t remember the last time you’ve had this many options in front of you. Your mother’s words about patience run through your head. Keeping your wits is key. Play your hand too quickly, and you lose all leverage. You have Daella and the babe in your belly to think about. You stood pat in the beginning; Lord Strong simply relaying messages to you. You make sure Alys gets the letter Aemond wrote, and the ones after that. Lord Larys makes sure you get the details of each letter exchanged.
When the days grew lonely, and your body aches because of the babe in your stomach, you think about the letters. The declarations of love and recounts of lust filled meetups simmer in your head, but it’s the mentions of you that makes the anger sizzle and crackle. It makes the guilt you feel wash away.
You question if the rumor is true. That his Alys is a witch. Does her magic allow her to see the way Helaena can? Fuzzy premonitions and dreams that only make sense after they happen; a gift and a curse. A part of you wishes it to be true. You hope while your stomach stirs with untold truths, hers stirs with regret. Maybe the pain that runs through you leaves an unfamiliar taste in her mouth. That she can’t quite put her finger on it, but she feels you.
You wonder if when Aemond prays, he asks the Father to protect him… to protect her. The same way when you pray, you ask the Warrior to help you find the courage to destroy him.
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It started with a bruise. A bruise that you don’t even remember how you got. Maybe one of those things you just wake up with. But it’s there, on the inside part of your left arm. It’s starting to fade but an otherwise noticeable bruise that stands out when you wear something with shorter sleeves.
The idea doesn’t come to you till you see the curiosity in Alicent’s eyes when you absentmindedly rub the bruise while asking if she’s seen Aemond. It’s only you two in the walkway; an unusually quiet day at the Red Keep. Her eyes go from it to the far away look in your eyes. It makes her tilt her head in thought.
“No dear, I haven’t,” her eyes go back to the scratch. “Are you doing alright? I know for some, the second babe can be even harder than the first.”
You look down at your arm, and something just clicks.
“I’m fine,” you start, then you make your voice tremble a bit. “I will be fine. I think I’m just tired.”
You give her a strained smile, and she returns one that tells you she doesn’t believe you. You can feel her big brown eyes burning into your back when you walk past her towards your chambers. There could be two thoughts in her head: you did this yourself or someone else did it to you. Either way, her son’s sweet pregnant lady wife is not doing well, and her son is nowhere to be found. Queen Alicent is one of the smartest, if not the smartest, person you know. She sees the change in her son; the change in the dynamic between Aemond and you.
It hits you. It would be too easy to physically harm Aemond. Though the idea of taking the blade that hangs from his hips and putting it to his throat has crossed your mind more times than you’re proud of. It would be too easy to get Larys to kill Alys. You don’t want to give Aemond the satisfaction of having his whore’s blood on your hands.
Where’s the fun in killing when your rage could be channeled into something more… methodical.
Under all that false bravado is the little boy who got picked on for not having a dragon. To break the man means bringing out that little boy. A truly broken man can’t love anyone. Isolation, and self hatred. What a gorgeous combination for your dear husband.
If this is going to work you need to up the ante.
So, you write. If Aemond and Alys can document their love, you can document your pain. You sent your lady in waiting out to get a blank book from one of the maesters. The color dyed cow skin feels smooth under your hands. There needs to be a slow build. Each day you grow closer and closer to shattering. Whoever reads it needs to know Aemond brought you to this place. He is the villain in the story of the poor, innocent wife that did nothing but carry his children and try to love him.
It will read like a diary, but to you it is a creation. A mixture of truth and imagination. A manifestation of pent up feelings. Purging and revenge all rolled up into one. You make sure to mention how terrified you are for your safety, and for you children’s safety. How an angry or disenchanted Aemond is nothing to toy with, especially if he has a bastard witch on his side. How maybe life would be better for Aemond if you just weren’t around.
But this fading bruise isn’t enough. Neither is just having a diary that will be discovered in due time. A deep cut, a dark bruise, half hazardously placed hand prints.. now that could work.
There’s something cathartic about the pain you feel when the dagger slices through your skin. The blood is so red and warm. It smears so smoothly on the page. Blood on your dress, cloth pressed to the wound, and wandering the halls is how Ser Criston finds you. You notice the worried, confused look in his eyes when you stutter out an ‘I don’t know’ when he asks what happened.
As the maester tends to your wound, you notice how Alicent and Criston stand in the corner of Alicent’s quarters. They occasionally glance at you while they whisper to each other. You recognize the familiar crinkle she gets in her forehead when she’s upset. All her children do it too.
“Sweetling, we both think it might be a good idea to give you your own knight of the kingsguard,” she sits next you. “Just to help you and… keep an eye on you during this vulnerable time.”
You blink. Not one mention of her son. But it’s clear to see how Ser Criston is with his queen. Submissive, and utterly devoted. Having someone like that is an asset. So, you smile weakly and nod. The more people who see you in this way, the better.
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Ser Quinton Throne was quiet in the beginning. As if he was scared to be in your space. A far cry from the rambunctious knight his brother, Rickard, is. Moving past the initial shyness, he is attentive and even indulges Daella’s fascination with him. Despite you telling her not to, she would always run up to him, tugging on his white cloak to get his attention. She likes having someone around just as much as you.
The distance between Aemond and you had started to carry over into his relationship with Daella. Kids are more intuitive than adults give them credit for. Your throat felt tight when you daughter finally asks where father goes. You lie; it comes easy to you, easier than you thought it would. It makes you think if this is how easy it is for Aemond to lie to you. Or for everyone to not gloss over the clear problems in your life.
You would lying if you said it wasn’t nice having a man around, even if it was his job. It was Aemond’s job to do right by you, and he couldn’t do that. A man carrying out his orders with a warm smile was welcomed. The comfort of having someone who sweared his allegiances to you, and only you, and intended on keeping them.
You look from your embroidery loop to see Daella and Ser Quinton sword fighting with wooden swords. It’s an uncharacteristically sunny day. Perfect to get much needed fresh air, and apparently going to battle.
“She’s gotten quite good.”
Like a storm rolling in to ruin a sunny day, your husband’s tone is ever cold and distant. You hate the uncomfortable energy that radiates when he sits next to you.
“Yes, she has,” you stare at the Lysene lilac flower starting to come to life on your loop. “He’s good with her as well.”
You know he won’t like you saying that. He hates Quinton being around, and he especially hates how Daella taken a liking to him. Aemond scoffs and mumbles something under his breath you can’t make out.
“It’s just lovely having real protector around,” you continue to push your luck. “Someone so attentive and… strong.“
You look at with his a sickening sweet smile. He opens his mouth to say something, a complaint or rude comment since those seem to be the only reasons he talks to you, but he is interrupted by Daella yelling out for him.
“We’ll talk about this later,” he mutters to you, getting up.
“Oh you’ll actually be here long enough for that?”
The words slip out your mouth and it makes him turn to glare at you. It reminds you of the gossip you heard about him when you first arrived at court. How cold the king’s second son can be. It should’ve been a warning to you.
Quinton takes it as his cue to leave them be; you know he can sense how much Aemond doesn’t appreciate his presence. You watch as Daella clings to her father. As selfish as it sounds, you patiently wait for the day she too realizes he can’t be depended on.
“My mother used to make me embroider,” your knight’s voice breaks you out of looking on. “Something about being dangerous with a needle is just as great as being dangerous with a sword.”
You take a good look at him. If Aemond is the moon - ethereal, mysterious, and always changing, then Quinton is the sun. Bright, forward facing, and shines brighter with time. His choppy black hair, beard, and warm standing in contrast to your husband’s Targaryen features.
“Sounds like a smart woman,” you smile as he sits next to you.
His eyes linger on your embroidery work before traveling to you right arm. The blade wound was just starting to scab and scar over. His first day on duty was marked by seeing your husband give a long lecture on safety and ‘using your brain’ after Aemond saw your wound. The blade cut wasn’t under pure circumstances, but the look of resentment on your face was real. He saw that. He’s never asked what really happened to your arm.
“How are you my lady,” he whispers. You told him he can address you by your name, but he still insist on the formal names especially around others. “Is the babe giving you trouble.”
Ser Quinton, Helaena, and Alicent are the only people that seem to care about your well being, on top of the babe’s. Aemond concern went making sure the babe was fine to just not asking all together. It’s better that way, you think. You don’t think you’d be able to take fake concern about your little ‘mistake’.
“My bladder is being pushed on, I’m finding clumps of my hair on my pillow, and Maester Oliver told me this baby will weigh more than Daella did,” you reply lightly. “But other than that I’m doing fine.”
This pregnancy had knocked you on your ass. You’re sure the stress and thoughts that consume you don’t help. You know how it feels to come into a fracture family; it makes you feel awful for the babe in your stomach. Your parents tried hard, frankly too hard, to pretend things were good between them. Trying to prove their union was more than a duty for their houses. Till this day, you don’t know what’s worse: knowing they didn’t share that love or the years you watched them fake everything. They had ambitions, and to carry them out there needed to be an appearance of an united front. You took your father’s lead, knowing he always tried to have your best interest. The relationship you have with your mother often ebbing and flowing, especially since your marriage.
When you ravened your mother about your pregnancy troubles, she tells you that this is your responsibility to your husband. Harsh and utterly true. You don’t know if your father ever had indiscretions like Aemond, but you know she’d never plot the way you do. Her calculating nature showing up in different ways. Instead of going after him, she chose to focus on elevating you.
Her and Queen Alicent remind you of each other. Devoted to a fault. A victim who had no other choice but to fall in line.You pray for the both of them. Pray that they find peace with the sacrifices they’ve made. Pray that you never get that far. A shell of yourself. Duty, responsibility, cleaning up others’ messes - what a dull way to live.
“Once he’s out, I’m sure it will all be worth it,” says Ser Quinton, voice not wavering.
He’s trying to be kind, mentioning the working theory in the castle that you’re having a boy. You try to smile at the thought. It’s hard to believe that. Plan or not, you still have to know the truth about the father of your children. There is hole left in your heart about that. Him disrespecting you is one thing, but his words pertaining to your unborn child is another. A sudden spurt of anger rushes over you thinking about everything. It makes you stand abruptly.
“I’m feeling tired,” you watch as Daella pretend to stab her father with her sword. Her giggles ringing out when he reaches to pick her up. The dichotomy of Aemond Targaryen will always fascinate you as much as it terrifies you. How he manages to smile in her face, and lie to yours is quite a sight to watch. “I’ll send Margret out to get Daella.”
Waiting for the perfect moment is not going to work. There no time like the present.
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The stiff upper lip of this family is something you noticed the moment you stepped into their presence. It’s seeped into the way they gatekeep a dying Viserys. Alicent is cold and collected in the most beautiful way. A sharp glittering icicle. A pretty rose littered with thorns to keep you admiring from a distance. Even Helaena, who you consider a friend, keeps certain things close to the chest. It’s better to keep the full truth away from her.
But there’s Aegon.
Pitiful, and lonely Prince Aegon. A drunk with a bad attitude. But he’s also the most painfully self-aware person you know. There will be times that you and him exchange looks, as you are in on the joke. That everything is a farce. One day someone will just come up and say it’s all been a bad dream. You think it’s the reason why he frustrates Aemond so much. The teasing on top of him never taking the Targaryen name seriously. Aegon spends his days trying to drink and fuck his way out of thinking about his life. Stuck in a royal cuckold. The first born son of a king with nothing to show for it.
He’s messy, nosy, and so openly brash. He’s your missing chess piece. The perfect pawn.
You leave the diary around places in the castle you know he will be. It’s not until you conveniently leave it in the play room where all Daella, Jaehaera, and Jaehaerys all frequent that you know he’s taken the bait. His lilac eyes seem to follow you whenever you two are in the same room. It takes days for him to confront you; book in hand and wry look on his face.
“Is it true? Everything you wrote?”
You stroke your belly while looking at him, a small smile on your face.
“Does it matter that if it is,” you tilt your head, and his eyes glitter with something you’re not used to seeing.
He mirrors your head tilt with a full blown smile on his face this time. It’s like a bright light after weeks of darkness. A person who also sees through the bullshit that enraptures once you call yourself a Targaryen.
“I greatly underestimated you my good sister,” he whispers. You know he’s thinking about his own words. ‘Pretty but horribly dull’.
“That’s fine,” you motion to the seat next to you. “You can make it up to me.”
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Queen Alicent stands facing the fire. Aegon, Helaena, and Ser Quinton off to the side. All of them standing across from where you sit. Aegon gives you a knowing look while Quinton’s eyes are filled with pity and anger. Pity for his princess, anger towards his prince. Helaena looks like she wants to say something.
“I… do not know what to say,” her voice is strained with pain. You know this hurts for her. The image of the perfect son being destroyed. The pedestal she put him on crumbling before him.
You’ve gotten better at crying after Aegon told you tears will be necessary to sell it. It’s an automatic response now. The perfectly timed emotion that breaks like flood gates when Alicent holds out the diary. You say you’re embarrassed. That you never meant for anyone to read it, especially not anyone in the family. Aegon gets to be the concerned good brother. He rubbed your back, while his mother called for Helaena. She needed to know who else knew about this.
“I can say what everyone is thinking,” Aegon pipes up. “He’s a fucking cunt.”
“Aegon.”
His mother turns to glare at him, but it doesn’t deter him.
“Walking around with that self righteousness just to fuck a Strong,” he scoffs. “Calling his child a mistake?”
The words makes Alicent sigh, and squeeze her eyes shut. Helaena continues to play with her fingers with a quizzical look in her eye. If Aegon of all people can judge, the actions must be bad.
“This all my fault,” you decide to take it up a notch. Your breath catches. “I must’ve done something to deserve this.”
“Oh my sweet girl,” Alicent walks over and sits next to you, pulling you into her chest. “None of this is your fault.
“I just don’t know what I did to deserve this,” you continue. That part is true; what the seven hells did you do to deserve this marriage? “This, and the baby, and missing my family. I’m just so unhappy here.”
Alicent strokes your hair. You can feel her heart thumping in her chest. You can tell she’s upset and scared. Scared for what your unhappiness means. You’re a risk now.
“Maybe… my father can come and visit. He hasn’t been here since Daella was born.”
After you got married, your parents left court to tend to your house. They felt their work was done. That the marriage was as far as their political ambitions can go. They visit from time to time to see their granddaughter but normally you’re the one who has to make the trip.
“Of course,” you can see the wheels turning in her head. “I’m sure the Hand would love to pick his brain on some things. Your father has always been so kind and helpful”
Queen Alicent is as predictable as she is smart. Your dad thought your marriage would help him get a seat in the small council. When no offer came, his ego was bruised. If your marriage couldn’t, maybe a desperate Alicent can. The idea of sending a raven about the news makes you have to bite back a smile. An ally in an castle full of strangers.
“I’ll speak to Aemond about this,” she nods to herself. “You don’t need to be worrying about this in your condition.”
The disappointment is clear in smooth voice. Before you can reply with a thank you, Helaena finally piped up.
“A baby’s green eyes spurs brighter skies.”
She mutters it before looks at you curious. You look down at your swollen belly, feeling confused. Neither Aemond or you have green eyes. You try to push the sinking feeling out of your stomach. Even Aegon, who normally ignores Helaena’s cryptic language, has perked up a little.
You take a look at Ser Quinton… his eyes as green as spring grass.
Ok this is my first one doing a tag list, so I’m sorry for those I’ve missed. It only let me do 50??? Idk it’s it’s different on desktop or I’m doing something wrong. Hopefully I can find a more conducive way for this. I also only tagged people who specifically asked: @afro-hispwriter @crispmarshmallow @unabashedlyswimmingtimemachine @its-sam-allgood @lol-im-done @grey-water-colors @sassysaxsolo @justsumstufff @lilithskywalker @dc-marvel-girl96 @bekky06 @claudie-080102 @cloudroomblog @shelbythequeen @crazylokonugget @solacestyles @instantpeachpeace @katyadenauer @nsainmoonchild @deeeeexx @iwanttohitmyself @rosa-berberifolia @noisyinfluencerstrawberry @princessmiaelicia @bregarc @castellomargot @thesadvampire @chaosmagiq @icarusignite @happinessinthebeing @flavorofsalt @wishfulwithwine @slut-for-eddie-munson @rosaryos @mistalli @inana-mm @winxschester @papery-maniac @nolongereviliwantlove @fultimefangirl @missusnora @skinmittensgoblin @duckworthbean @b00kdiary @chiyausu @alexandra-001 @tachibubu @juneisreading @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @verycollectivecreator
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gojoidyll · 6 months
Text
Wriothesley x Reader
warnings: a stalker (not wrio), insecurities, fear, grammatical errors, etc.
small note: insinuated that both of them end up together at the end but not explicitly said.
(not gender specific btw!!)
Currently thinking of a scenario (or maybe a future fanfic someday) where you are an amazing author in Fontaine who feels like writing was the biggest mistake you could have ever made.
At first, writing was your passion, it was what led you to fame and the creation of a certain all-time hit detective series that people all across of teyvat like to read.
At first, writing was what made you happy. You could stay home all day without having to venture out of the safety and comforts of your home. Didn't have to worry about your next paycheck, if you'll have enough mora for tomorrow, or if you'll have enough to pay rent by next week. Sure you had deadlines, but since you loved to write and managed your time wisely - deadlines weren't ever an issue.
But slowly, as you rose to fame, admirers and fans were quick to swarm.
It got to the point that you would get mountains of letters a day (almost by the hour). And as a pushover as you were (your parents never really taught you how to stand up for yourself), you quickly found yourself writing to each fan back who sent you letters or gifts. Thanking them. Talking to them. Even becoming penpals too.
Then there was one man in particular who started to get too creepy. Too close for comfort.
His letters started to get disturbing. He would introduce himself with a fake name but tell you that he was a young man in his late twenties. How your books gave him life and meaning. How he would see you walking the streets and even got your schedule down when you would go to the grocery store or hangout with friends.
It was then when you would find that you had gained your own stalker. It was then that maybe getting the spotlight on you and through your writing was a bad idea.
If only I didn't share my real name. I wonder if things would be different...
Despite the mental stress the man was placing on you. You tried to push those thoughts away even though the fear of being watched at all moments throughout the day ate away at you. Your own home wasn't your safety net any longer, you feared.
You couldn't bring yourself to tell anyone, opting out for dealing with this yourself.
You tried to tell the man to stop. He didn't.
Warned him.
Yelled at him when you would spot him hiding.
Screamed when he broke into your home. Kicked and thrashed around.
It was then when your neighbors called for the garde. Immediately coming to the rescue due to all the noise you both were causing.
And soon a trial was held. The man was immediately found guilty for a numerous of things. Theft, stalking, attempted kidnapping, breaking and entering, etc.
And even when he was sent to the fortress of meropide, you found that you just couldn't write anymore even though your hit detective series was still ongoing. Your editors, in understanding, gave the series a hiatus and let you take a vacation.
But once again, you feared.
You feared that you just couldn't write anymore.
The one thing that you enjoyed doing ended up with some crazy fan wanting more of you. You didn't want to fear anymore.
And it would be two weeks later when you would be approached by Neuvillette and Clorinde. They would tell you about the happenings within the fortress and how your presence was needed in dealing with your ex-stalker.
Apparently he had gotten into some trouble, and he wouldn't talk no matter what unless he got to see you.
So you found yourself reluctantly going. It wasn't like you were going to stay home and do anything anyway...
At the fortress now, you found yourself in a big office. Apparently it belonged to the Duke, the warden of the fortress. You learned quickly by many of the people there that you should refer to him as "your grace."
And as you sat alone in the office in one of the chairs, a noise sounded just down below.
"They're here?! Where?! I must see them!"
That voice, you couldn't help but to tremble. You didn't want to be here. Not here. But Neuvillette and Clorinde helped alot with the case and proving the man guilty, so you felt obligated to stay and forced yourself not to run away.
"Y/n! There you are! I'm so glad to see you again!"
"That's enough. You see them now, right? So get talking."
You finally got to see the Duke of the fortress of meropide (with the chief justice and Clorinde on either side of him). The duke's eyes were an icy blue, sharp and calculated. His hair black and grey, and spiked - you couldn't help but to think of how ... wolfish he looked.
"Talk? Talk?! I didn't ask you to bring them here so I could talk!"
He reached for you. Hands outstretched as if to hurt you. To pull you towards himself. But Wriothesley was already a step ahead as he grabbed the front of the man's shirt and forced him to the ground, pinning him there.
"I guess no one taught you how to treat a lady."
And maybe, just maybe writing wasn't a mistake after all. Because maybe all this time as you would write happy endings for your characters .. maybe you were waiting for your own happy ending. A happy ending where someone saves you from someone and from yourself.
At least, thats what came to mind as when you finally managed to finish your detective series two months later with its final book.
"So, what genre are you looking to write for now? Because I think you got the mystery all covered."
Sitting in Wriothesley's office once more, lunch in hand, you smiled and thought for a moment.
"How about a romance?"
He snorted at the question, "romance, huh? And how do you plan on starting that?"
"If I told you, then it would ruin the whole book."
"I don't mind spoilers."
You grinned, eyes trained on his as you both enjoyed your lunch break together, "well, it starts off with a man saving an author from someone and from themselves."
"That so," he asked while smirking, he already knew where this was going.
"Do they end up together?"
You shrugged, "you tell me."
Wriothesley leaned back in his chair, eyes trained on you, and only you, "I noticed that in your books, your characters get happy endings. So why not write another one?"
"What? Not a fan of angst?"
"Absolutely not."
396 notes · View notes
powerfultenderness · 7 months
Text
That Time...
That time you maybe sorta accidentally almost had phone sex with König
Rated: Mature Word Count: 2097 Notes: [Neighbor!König] 1. Chronological order? Never heard of her. 🤷‍♀️ (what happened before he left is an event for another chapter). 2. Sorry for the hiatus. IRL, you know?
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König retreated to his temporary quarters with a sigh. It had been nearly 72 hours since he had proper sleep. A few naps in a jostling humvee was nothing compared to his bed at home. Free of gear and mask, he gently laid down on the stiff bed, wishing he was at home. This mission, already supposed to be a long one, had gone haywire before he even arrived. Meaning he first had to take control of the situation before he could even attempt his mission. Lucky for him, that meant he’d get bonus pay. 
He sighed again as he flopped over on his stomach, arm dangling off the edge of the bed, and eyes drifting to the small, much too small, desk. Some paperwork and a canteen of water sat on top. In the little drawer a pen and, the most important item he carried here, his personal phone.
He blinked and pushed himself up a bit, black paint leaving a small stain in his pillow and reached for the drawer. He had to lean over a bit more to reach, but he found his phone after a few blind taps. After a quick unlock he looked at his only text conversation. Yes, only. Very few people had his personal phone number, and all but one of those contacts communicated with him solely through calls. Ever since he exchanged numbers with you, you texted him quite often. Mostly quick questions: would he like to join you for dinner? Can you stop by real quick? Things of that nature.
He actually hated texting. The keyboard was too small for his big hands and auto correct proved not to be his friend. Still, he put up with even the small amount he did for you. 
He glanced at the time, doing quick mental math to determine what time it was at home. It was late, but not too late, and you had a habit of staying up late. He could- the phone slipped in his hand and, 
Shit!
He quickly sat up as he accidentally called you, finger hovering over the button to end the call. What if you answered? He desperately wanted to hear your voice. He loved his job but,
“König?” 
His stomach flipped and his heartbeat spiked as he faintly heard your voice. He swallowed thickly and put the phone to his ear.
Your voice, slightly creaky, started to panic. “König? Is everything alright? Are you back?” 
“Yes. I’m fine, darling. No, I’m not back yet.” He answered in an even and calm voice, feeling both guilty and touched that you were so worried about him.
You sighed and there was some faint shuffling, “it’s…” you paused and he could just see you biting your bottom lip. “What’s up?” 
“I.” He swallowed nervously again. “I just wanted to hear your voice.” 
The only thing he could hear was his blood pounding in his ears as he waited for your response. 
“König?”
“Yes?”
“Do you…miss me?” Your voice pitched up teasingly; he’d heard the tone enough to know that you were grinning.
Grateful that you couldn’t see how flushed his face was, he took a moment to push himself up the bed enough to lean back against the wall. “Y-yes.” He mumbled into the phone. 
“Aww! That’s sweet!” 
“It is?” 
“Yea.”
His heart, his stomach, his blood, fluttered again as a relieved smile crossed his face. “Do you,” he licked his lips, “do you miss me?”
You coughed on the other end of the call, “uhh…welllll….”
König gasped, “you don’t miss me?!” 
“What! No! Of course I do!” 
“No. You forgot about me the moment I left, didn’t you?” He sniffled dramatically, even placed a hand over his heart even though you couldn’t see him.
“Noo, König! I DO miss you!” You half giggled as he played with you.
“Oh? Then why the pause?”
“Uhm…” 
You looked around the room. His room. You really didn’t know how to explain this without coming off as creepy. (does that mean you are, in fact, creepy?) 
König saying your name, and not one of those cutesy nicknames he often used, drew you out of your thoughts. “I don’t know. It’s just. Uhm. You see.”
Now it was his turn to be worried. “What is it?”
You took a breath, “ok. I. I thought you were coming home tonight.”
He sighed, “I know, angel. I’m sorry, some unexpected-”
“No, no! That’s ok! I’m not upset about that!”
“Then what?” “I mean, I’m not upset at all!” 
“Ah. I was right. You don’t miss me.” 
“König!” 
He chuckled, “what are you trying to tell me?”
“Like I said, I thought you were coming home tonight. So I, uhm, used the key you gave me to cook dinner at your flat. I thought you might like to have dinner in the comfort of your own home.”
König’s heart thumped in his chest. In only a second the image of going home, to see you waiting for him, pampering him, feeding him, caring for him all flashed through his mind. It was an image he very much wanted. Your name quietly slipped past his lips, but you had only paused to take a breath and continued with your rambling.
“But then you didn’t and that’s fine, like, you said you were only estimating when you’d be back and then I started cleaning and, uhmm…” “Don’t tell me you burned down my flat?” 
“No!” You barked out a laugh, a little thankful that he interrupted before you could fully embarrass yourself. 
You sighed, you knew he wouldn’t drop it now. Sure enough you heard him once again asking you to just tell him. Instead you pulled your phone away from your face and turned on the camera. You snapped a quick selfie and after a breath, sent it to him. 
König’s phone buzzed in his hand just as he called your name again. He blinked and opened the text message you just sent him. His eyes widened and he quietly gasped as instead of a text, you sent a picture. It was nothing provocative, but it was you. Of you in bed. His bed. His blanket pulled up to your neck as you smiled sheepishly into the camera.
“-And then I got tired and laid down in your room.” You finished your explanation, unaware that König was still staring at the picture you sent. Unaware that he was now imagining what his life could be like if instead of staying on base after a long shift, he spent the extra time to go home and crawl into bed with you. 
“König?” You asked, voice tight with anxiety. “Are you mad at me? I’ll leave! And I’ll wash-” “No! No! I’m not mad! You can sleep there!”  Please sleep there!
“Are you sure? I get it, if I crossed a line-”
“I’m sure. Don’t leave. It’s late and it’s cold out.” 
It was late, sure, but it wasn’t cold; it was still summer. It was an excuse you both accepted.
“I am just surprised. You hate sleeping in your day clothes.” He tried to joke, to reassure you that he absolutely did not mind you sleeping in his bed. At least someone was enjoying it. Even if he did wish that he could enjoy it with you. 
You coughed nervously again, “well…”
Dear God. If you told him that you were sleeping naked in his bed? He’d abandon his post, steal a helicopter and fu-
“I kinda borrowed one of your shirts to wear as a nightgown. Is. Is that ok?” 
Oh. That made more sense than you climbing into his bed naked. He took a deep breath. “Of course, darling.”
You sighed in relief. The fact that he switched back to your normal nickname put you at ease. "Oh, good. It really makes for a comfy nightgown, so I can sleep in your comfy bed." 
You teased and chuckled at the groan he let out, assuming that it was his bed that he was missing. 
König chuckled with you, relaxing against the wall, and licked his lips as he felt another spike of anxiety flutter in his stomach. “Did you borrow a pair of my shorts too?” 
“What! No!” You laughed, “are you kidding? This shirt is so big on me, it can be a dress.” 
He closed his eyes and let his head drop against the wall. “Good. That is good.” 
“What? Why?”
He hummed as he imagined crawling into bed, flipping you onto your back so he could settle between your bare thighs, his hand grabbing a fistful of your smooth soft flesh until he was gripping your hip. 
“König?”
He froze, only now realizing how hard he was getting and where his free hand had been. He cleared his throat, “ah. It’s nothing, darling. I just want you to be comfortable.” 
“Me? How comfortable are you right now?” 
“Not very.” He answered honestly. The bed he was currently sitting on was too small for him, it was both stiff and lumpy, and the blanket was thinner than his shirt. “My couch is more comfortable than this.” 
“I mean, you do have a really comfortable couch.” 
“Hm. Especially with you on it too.” 
You blinked, stomach alight with butterflies. You must have heard him wrong, or he must have misspoke. He must have meant that his couch was more comfortable even if he had to share it with you. “Well, there is enough room for both of us.” 
“Yea.” He agreed, eyes closed as he thought about the night he left. Of the little shorts you had been wearing, so short that his hand hit the elastic of your panties before the fabric of your shorts when he “casually” dragged his hand up and down your body. “Enough for you to lie down with me.” 
You let out the quietest little gasp, a shiver running down your body as you remembered the feeling of his hands on you. “Oh. Yea…I was…kinda on top of you, though.” 
König grunted, now palming himself through his pants. He had a hard time forgetting the feeling of you grinding your hips into him. “A perfect fit.” 
That night had started out normal enough. Maybe it was the calming scent of the candle, or the steady rainfall and rolling thunder. It was not a cold night, but you still just wanted to cuddle with him. And he obliged.
You sighed over the phone, into König’s ear. He was so solid. And warm. You bit your lip, thighs clenched at the memory of his meaty thigh between your legs. 
Just a breathy whisper of his name had his eyes rolling back into his head, his free hand desperately pulling at his belt. 
Knock! Knock! Knock!
“König!” The voice of one of his men interrupted him before he could even fully undo his belt (thankfully). 
He growled and pulled the phone away from his face, “shit! What!” 
You jumped when König started yelling, there was some shuffling and more shouting. It gave you a moment to collect yourself, to realize what you were about to do, and think of an excuse to get off of this phone call.
An excuse you didn’t need, as he sighed and put the phone back up to his ear. “Listen, darling, I have to go.” 
You nodded, you expected as much after all that commotion. “Be safe.” 
“Yea. You too.” 
You stared at your phone once the call disconnected. He was always worried about you even though he was the one running into what you presumed to be an active war zone. You felt a little guilty that if things hadn't been so urgent on his side, you were about to end the call before things got even more intimate. (It was late! And you had to work in the morning!) What if you made it up to him?
Before you could chicken out, you quickly turned on the light and set your phone up on the nightstand to get a picture of you on the bed. You hadn’t borrowed one of his t-shirts, but a tank top, with a comfortable scoop neck on him. But on you? It dropped deep enough to reveal plenty of cleavage. 
Then you snapped a few pictures and choose the most flattering flirtatious one and quickly sent it to him, with the message: “thanks for letting me borrow your shirt!” 
To say that König was surprised when he returned to base was an understatement. How in the world was he supposed to concentrate on his work now?! 
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[Neighbor König Masterlist]
Neighbor König taglist (blurbs): Please let me know if you wish to be added or removed.
@warrior-of-justice  @cumikering @ihateuguys @rand0m--fangirl @keiva1000 @dtftheavengers @takeyour-pants-off @aeeliy @milenko115 @sodonuthideout @onegami @nadiauddincrafts @nadiauddincrafts @grizzersmamma @flooftoof @techs-ass @virginalsacrifice @s0rc3r3r @sleeplessskeleton @introvered-violinist @tizylish @romula96 @peach-habibitch @mitchlow @queenotaku27 @fenixnegras @emmbny @love-dove-noora @lesbianmitsuri @supergirl16 
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odxrilove · 8 months
Text
☆ STRAY KIDS AND HOW YOUR RELATIONSHIP IS REVEALED
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pairing: stray kids x fem!reader
genre: fluff, idol!au, established relationships, 1.5k
a/n: request by anon! song rec - day 1 by red velvet.
back to masterlist! seventeen version here!
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☆ BANGCHAN  
you and chan had been together for a couple of years now and to say you were both getting impatient at your agencies’ reluctance to reveal your relationship was an understatement. so one day, chan decides he’s got enough. he asks his manager what would happen if people found out about you two, and when he learns that he won’t get kicked out nor be put on hiatus, he’s determined to go against whatever advice his pr team told him. it’s soon valentine’s day and you’re out on a date, in the open. you’re not wearing anything to hide your identity and chan’s so proud when you hold his hand for everyone to see. you both feel your phones buzzing in your pockets but your reservation at a cute restaurant is more important to you. you know you might get scolded by your managers but when you see all the many positive reactions from your fans, you’re just happy you decided to not wear a mask and sunglasses that day.
☆ LEE KNOW
you and your boyfriend follow a simple routine, going to work early, practicing and attending schedules during the day and leaving for home late at night. it’s easy, simple, but never gets boring, the conversations or the comfortable silence on the ride back home make up for missing each other’s presence during the day. as your relationship is still a secret to the public, you wait for the other in the building’s underground parking lot, sunglasses and cap on. you’ve never been caught before and you always manage to get home without trouble. on some rough days, a small step gets added to the simple routine– a makeout session, right in the car in the underground parking lot. honestly, you should have been more careful, looking at your surroundings and checking if someone was around instead of throwing your arms around lee know’s neck the moment he stepped into your car. but then again, lee know would have thrown himself at you instead. guess there was no way to avoid having your faces plastered all over the internet the next day. 
☆ CHANGBIN  
decides to film a vlog one day and goes to the gym at the end of it. the short “gym” scene doesn’t last long and is sped up but fans still notice the light yellow metal bottle next to the leg press machine and almost out of the camera’s view. the metal bottle seems familiar to some and they realize it’s because you have the same one. you had bought it and showed it to fans when you decided to go to the gym more regularly. not even a day later, multiple theories pop up on social media about how you and changbin have been “gyming” together with ultimate proof, your water bottle. what doesn’t help calm the rumors down are your posts on bubble, where you grieve the loss of your dear metal water bottle because you accidentally forgot it at the gym. your relationship is truly revealed only months later though (because let’s be honest, a water bottle isn’t real proof), when you and changbin film a gym vlog together. 
☆ HYUNJIN
you are both invited to a certain fashion show as the global ambassadors for that famous brand and decide it’s a good time to sneak out for a little while paparazzi are infesting the place. after sitting on uncomfortable chairs for hours and having to listen to business people gloat about their new contract and brand deals, you and hyunjin slip away for a few minutes, just enough to share a few romantic kisses and regain enough energy to get through the day. you didn’t think you would get caught to be honest, but one amateur and curious paparazzi ruins your little bubble with hyunjin. the flashes and the clicks of the camera brings you both back to earth and you’re pissed. after glaring at the paparazzi, you both manage to sneak back to your seats but the damage is already done. you’re already trending all over social media and getting lots of texts from your manager on the way back to the hotel that same night. 
☆ JISUNG
jisung likes to produce and compose lots of songs, for his job as an idol but also in his free time. you, his dear partner, has always been one of his biggest supporters, and as one of the closest persons in his life, jisung often dedicates songs to you. it’s really sweet, the way he would spend some time working on a song before calling you to come over to the studio so he could show you. you always react the same way when finding out the song is about you, tears forming in your eyes and cheeks and ears turning red. You’ve helped him a lot since debut, stayed by his side and encouraged him, so with each year passing by, the number of songs dedicated to you become ridiculously higher– Jisung even had to make a separate folder on his laptop for all those songs. that’s how people find out too. the group films a behind the scenes video of a song recording, and the editors hadn’t noticed that the folder with songs about you was visible on jisung’s screen. to be fair, you could barely see it, but fans still notice it, your name in bold letters. 
☆ FELIX
even before you and felix started dating, he had always been so supportive of you, buying your group’s albums, congratulating you on your music show wins, and showering you in praise after every performance– it was easy falling in love with him. his support only doubled when you officially got together; he would bring you your favorite snacks, give you water backstage and casually recommend your group’s music during his lives. he followed you on bubble too, and the fact he only follows you on there makes you giddy every time. however, you had never thought people would find out about your secret love through the app. it was during an interview that the journalist asked his group how bubble worked, and felix answered quickly, explaining it all from the point of view of a fan. he received many confused stares back and he, as naive as he is, could only retaliate that he’s subscribed to your bubble, so he knows how it work. chaos ensues and he truly does not know how to repair it, only further aggravating the situation by telling his fans he’s only subscribed to your bubble and no other artists when people asked him about their favs.
☆ SEUNGMIN  
ever since you had started dating, you were both really good at hiding your relationship– you both paid a lot of attention to your behaviors and actions so as to not raise any suspicions, because even though you were confident the relationship would last, you weren’t sure if your fans would react positively. getting stressed and breaking up because of the public’s bad reaction was definitely not part of what you wanted. however, you didn’t expect for people to find out anyway, almost crying when you found out the public ‘knew’. that didn’t stop you from gaping at the dispatch article though– they thought you two were dating because of snacks?! turns out that fans knew you pretty well, being aware you hated oranges although you bought them weekly (for him). same thing on seungmin’s side of the fandom, he weekly bought spicy food (for you), although he swore he couldn’t stand it. it was definitely unexpected how fast fans managed to come to the conclusion you were dating, but hey, at least you didn’t have to divert the subject anymore when someone asked you why you bought orange flavored candy. 
☆ JEONGIN
one of the things that really helped you and jeongin get together was how often your schedules lined up. being under two different companies made it harder to see each other but more often than not, your comebacks would happen around the same time, allowing you and jeongin to meet up backstage at music shows. both your groups were aware of your relationship so they sometimes helped you two sneak away to meet– they couldn’t stand hearing both of you whine about missing the other any longer. what you liked the most during those music shows was how often your and jeongin’s group were competing for a music show win. for your latest comebacks, your group had won against his and when you glanced over at your boyfriend, the one thing he did was blow you a subtle kiss and mouth “i love you”. you mouthed it back and thought that was the end of it, until both of you were trending on twitter, a video of you two blowing kisses to each other from across the stage going viral.
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taglist: @0x1lovebot @fairybinie @blaqpinksthetic @odetoyeonjun @pockyandme @soobin-chois @soobisms @junityy @kaimal @laylasbunbunny @jaeyunverse @enhacolor @honglynights @starry-mins @bibinnieposts @yoonzin0 @equalheart @pointlessapple @yyx2 @enluv
please do not copy, steal or repost any of my work. all content belongs to @odxrilove
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nsfwrpg · 8 months
Text
Thaiphoon
KISS OF LIFE's Natty x Male Reader
Quickie, Unedited
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You step out of the makeshift dressing room that they made for your girlfriend and in no time you're blinded by the flashing lights that go off. She is currently in the middle of a photoshoot for her "debut" teasers. She already debuted solo, but after that contract ended she signed with a different agency and now the plans are set in stone for her "debut" this time in a girl group.
You see her posing as if she's a natural, giving the camera quite a show that only you have ever seen her do when she's working. She's been through a lot this past year alone, so seeing her work again just brings a smile to your face as she's back doing the job she loves. Though you loved the long hiatus she had and spent almost every day with you, you felt that she had to go for this opportunity once it was offered to her.
Here you are, watching on the side while your beautiful girlfriend is hard at work pleasing all the photo directors and making sure everything goes smoothly. One pose that she does however, makes you move around your legs and adjust your raging member. The top she had on already was showing parts of her cleavage, but in this pose from your viewing angle, it was showing more of it and your salivary glands were an indication of how much you were enjoying the view.
It seems like the camera didn't have the same angle you had, as you see the pictures the photographer takes and only a small amount of her cleavage gets shown in them. It didn't help that the top also accentuated her bust and made it harder for you to calm down your raging member.
She catches your gaze at her, and in return she flashes a smile at you. She lowers her gaze at you and from her body language it looks like a light bulb went off in her head.
She returns her focus to the task at hand though, and brings her gaze back to the photographer and continues her work. Everything goes by smoothly and in no time they take a break and everyone separates in different directions.
Unable to find your girlfriend, you head into the makeshift dressing room that was made for her. As soon as you open the door, an arm pulls you into the room and loudly slams the door. A pair of lips suddenly attacks yours and from the familar feeling of said lips, you realize that your girlfriend was waiting for you and for the right time to charge right at you.
She guides one of your hands directly to her bust and in no time you give the worship her tits deserved. Especially after that small moment that happened during the photoshoot. You couldn't stop thinking about them after that and now you finally scratch the itch that's been bothering you.
You take over and release from Natty's lips and reverse the roles as you push her against the door and carry her up. She immediately gets the idea as she wraps her legs around your waist and you continue another heated liplock. As your tongue swirls around hers and reasserts your dominance to her, your hands aren't idle.
Your hands quickly move up to her tight fitting shirt that caused all this trouble in the first place. Rapidly they make their way under her shirt and suddenly you're met with warmth as you place your hands right at her underboob. Natty lets out a moan and you feel the vibration of the sound as you both just keep on sloppily making out.
Once your palms make contact with her supple flesh, she lets out a louder moan. From that action alone, you can just feel the stronger vibration so you painfully decide to remove your lips from hers. You continue to rub your palms all over her flesh and every time your palms rub over her quickly hardening nipples, she lets out a whiny moan and it's almost like music to your ears.
Your thumbs make their way on their own accord as they immediately target her nipples. Once the pads of your thumbs run over her nipples her moans begin to increase in volume. Your index finger joins the party as you begin teasing, tweaking and pinching her nipples. With the way you tweak and pinch her nipples, it seems like you're adjusting her volume based on your actions. Doing certain tweaks and pinches allow for different ypes of moans and many different volumes that reveal whatever you do, she enjoys every little second of it.
When you reluctantly remove your hands from her mounds and from the warmth of inside her shirt, she lets out an exasperated breath. "Hnghh, babe why did you stoppp. Ughhh."
You don't respond with words, but your actions definitely spoke louder than any sentence you can muster in the moment. In a flash, your hands pull down the shoulder straps that were weakily holding her shirt up. As her bare breasts are presented to you, you don't waste a moment as your lips cling onto one of her peaks and Natty has to stifle a moan while your warm lips make first contact.
Goosebumps form all over Natty's skin as you continue worshipping your favourite body part of hers. Just from the constant sucking and flicking at her hardened nubs, turns her on even more than usual and she throws her head back into the door behind her. The thud her head made sounded loud from your position but when she reacts like that, why should you stop what you're doing?
Every time she tries to voice her satisfaction to you, it gets caught in her throat as you always seem to find the right timing when changing your actions. So instead she decides to voice her opinion by bringing her hand up from her neck, places it on the back of your head and plays with your hair.
After you've had your fill worshipping her well endowed tits, you pull your head back from them and you tilt your head up and see your girlfriend dazed and drunk in lust. Rapidly, you lift her legs so they're resting on your shoulders and you split her in half as you push her legs towards her own shoulders. Quickly, you maneuver your way to her belt, unbuckle it then unbutton and unzip her pants.
As she feels you begin to undress her bottom half, she quietly whispers out, "We have to be quick babe, I don't know how long the break is going to be." Understanding her drift, you don't fully pull her pants off, but you pull it down enough to give you access to her clothed pussy, only being covered by a black thong and drenched in her arousal after your titplay.
You move her thong to the side and your eyes are greeted with her dripping pussy, just asking to be fucked. Not wanting to waste any time, you follow suit by only slightly undressing your own bottom half and pulling out your cock and rest it just beside her pussy lips. She shivers as she feels your manhood so close to her sex, and her facial expression just shows how desperate she is for you to enter her.
You notice her desperation as you quickly aim your cock at her slit and teasily rub your cock along it, hearing whines and quiet moans to your own personal pleasure. For the sake of your own girlfriend's sanity you decide to give into her desires as you slowly push into her slick entrance. Even though she is as slick as you expected, she feels extremely tight as you slide your cock into her sex. You slowly thrust and slide in, trying to get her used to your size on first thrust.
When you fully bury your shaft to the hilt, you look into her eyes and surprisingly she has never changed her facial expression. She's still drunk in lust, and even though she is being stretched out for the first time in a while, she makes sure it doesn't seem like it.
However when you begin to pull out, you feel her walls tighten even more, causing you to let out an unexpected moan hopefully not loud enough that others were able to hear. You continue thrusting slowly into her, establishing a slow rhythm even though you both knew the small amount of time you guys potentially had.
You continue your lovemaking onto your girlfriend as you hear her stifling her moans and quietly whining every time to fill her to the hilt. You always loved these moments with her. While you loved fucking her brains out, the intimacy of slow and passionate lovemaking with Natty was always a pleasurable and enjoyable experience for both of you.
When her quiet whines and moans began to increase in volume, you rapidly reacted and muffled them with your own lips as you continue the passionate makeout you both initiated which started the whole string of events. You increase your pace just a smidge, and that alone causes her inner walls to tighten even more.
As you feel this happening, you change your angle the best you can and start aiming for her g-spot, chasing for both of your orgasms to hit at just the right time. After a few thrusts aiming and hitting it, while feeling both the loud vibration of your girlfriend's moans against your lips and the slick rushing down her walls, you know you hit the right spot. In no time, she reaches her orgasm thanks to you and a huge rush of slick runs around your shaft and leaks onto the floor beneath the two of you.
Once you realize the chain of events that just happened, you increase your pace and speedily reach your own orgasm just when her fluttering walls were finishing their strong and suffocating hold on you.
You let out a muffled grunt as you get pushed over the orgasmic edge, and the dam breaks loose and floods Natty's pussy sucking every drop from your balls. Lazily you continue thrusting into her until you empty everything inside her, constantly fucking your load until you were satisfied.
*knock knock knock* "Natty-nim! The break will be done in 5 minutes!"
You look at each other in shock, but know what needs to be done.
A/N: Well why don't you look at that? I'm back? Nah, I just wanted to get something out for my birthday, so sorry for quality on this fic if it isn't up to par with my other ones. Anyways, I guess happy birthday to me. Thanks to everyone for sticking by the blog even though I haven't posted in a while. Hope you enjoyed the fic, I'll see you guys around <3
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starshapedkookie · 2 years
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At the End of the Day
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summary: You and Jungkook have been best friends for 8 years, going through absolute hell and back together. After senior year of high school, you and Jungkook began a tradition of taking annual vacations together during the summer months. This summer is no different, with you and Jungkook celebrating graduating college just a couple months prior. You're set to move to NYC after the summer, with you and Jungkook soaking in the sun and as many moments as you can together. You'd think nothing could ever tear your friendship apart with him, but when you've sat on the beach for too many days in a row watching him surf, you can't help but wonder - when did your best friend get so hot?
➢ pairing: jungkook x female reader
➢ genre: high school friends to lovers, ex-baseball player jungkook, beach/vacation au, fluff, smut, a little angst
➢ warnings: language, angst, use of edibles, drinking, graphic depictions of smut (fingering, fem. receiving oral, light choking, dom-ish(?) jungkook, protected sex, obscene use of term baby) also i know that in the little mood board i created, the girl is a teeny white girl & i don't want to alienate any of my poc readers at all - i just thought these pics fit the vibe so take them with a grain of salt 😊
➢ word count: 13.3 k
➢ mini playlist: at the end of the day by wallows, satellite, late night talking, carolina by harry styles, no angel by beyonce, ICE (we should do drugs) by labrinth, unusual you by britney spears
posting this in honor of BTS' 9th anniversary. i think i will be sad about their hiatus for the next few days, but i know amazing things are coming for them. bts has saved me more than anyone could imagine - and this story feels like a love letter to jungkook. i hope you all enjoy.
You’re secretly watching him through your sunglasses, bottom lip tucked between your teeth in your observation. The sun’s rays are hot and you should probably reapply your sunscreen, but you can’t budge in your chair. From this distance, he probably thinks your eyes are still focused on the open book in your lap but that couldn’t be further from the truth. 
You’re not exactly sure when Jeon Jungkook became so sexy. It was definitely a slow burn of growth and puberty overtime, still shocked that your best friend of 8 years looked like this now. Muscles covering his body; leaned out and defined just enough. His hair cut immaculately after a few rough stints of trying to grow it long the last two years of college. Multiple piercings in his ears and you can’t even get started on the eyebrow and lip piercing he’s gotten in the last six months. Tattoos—god his fucking tattoos—covering the entirety of his right arm; shoulder to hand. The only thing that remained the same about him was his goofy personality and lame attempts he called jokes. 
When you had first met Jungkook, he was 15 and you were 14, only a few months younger than him. High school orientation is where you met to be exact. Perhaps out of privilege, both of you ended up at the same private high school—nationally ranked for its academics and sports. It’s not hard to guess what you were there for and what he was there. Jungkook was one of the shyest people you had ever met at the time. You’d later find out that he was scouted by the high school’s baseball coaches to join the program. He was skinny like a tree branch, had a black bowl cut, and a nose too big for his face. You don’t know exactly why the two of you ended up becoming best friends but either way, you were grateful that he was in your life. 
It’s just now, your friend just happens to be insanely hot and more confident than ever. Like you’ve said, you’re not sure when this transformation happened or how you were able to ignore it for so long, but goddamn—
You quickly shift your gaze away from Jungkook as he begins to make his way back to your chairs from the water. Your focus goes back to the pages of your book—a contemporary beach romance—very fitting for your vacation to the beach this year. Jungkook makes his appearance as you’re adjusting your sunglasses, setting down his surfboard on the sand with a thump—a hobby he’s picked up in the last couple years. 
You bring a hand up to further block the sun as you smile up at him, “How’s the water?” You ask. 
A playful smirk slowly spreads across his face and you soon regret your words when he leans over you, shaking his head of hair like a dog. 
“Jungkook! Quit it!” You yelp at him when the cold water its your skin, holding your book out to protect its precious pages. He laughs, clearly proud of himself—you having to make a conscious effort to ignore how his abdominals contract with each suck in of his breath. 
“It’s alright, waves are pretty easy today,” he says running a hand through his wet hair to get his bangs out of his face.
“Just be careful out there, please,” you tell him like it’s a warning. 
“Yeah yeah, I know,” he pauses as he takes a long drink of water. “How’s the book?” He asks as he sits down in the chair beside you, throwing on his pair of sunglasses. 
You gulp, almost not even hearing his question. 
“It’s cute,” you say, book marking your page and setting it down on the towel that’s between you two, “Kind of repetitive though.” 
He nods once before looking away from you, outstretched beneath the sun, “All the books you read are the same,” he chuckles, shoving his feet into the sand. 
You narrow your eyes at him even though he can’t see you behind your shades, “I’d beg to differ,” you tell him, “Just because I like romances with happy endings doesn’t mean they’re all the same,” you defend yourself. 
He glances at you, a smile playing on his lips, “Sure.” 
“Fuck you Jeon, when’s the last time you’ve even read a book?” You challenge, “The last textbook you ever had to read in college?” 
He makes a hum in not-so deep thought, “Probably,” he shrugs and you roll your eyes with a laugh escaping your lips. Though Jungkook doesn’t voice it, he likes hearing you laugh. “This reminds me of the first trip we took,” he adds in. 
You hum in agreement, a small smile forming across your face. 
Both of you then lay in silence as you pick up your book again, soaking up the sun and sound of waves crashing a few hundred yards away from you. Silence is never awkward between you two. It hasn’t been for years at this point. You enjoy his company enough that there’s no need to talk to each other constantly. You know everything about him and he knows everything about you—minus the minuscule crush you’ve developed for him overtime. It’s innocent really; Jungkook was your best friend, funny, attractive, and you talk to him nearly everyday. It would be abnormal if you didn’t feel a twinge of something beyond friendship with him occasionally. 
At least, if you tell yourself that enough; you’d hope it would be true. 
As you peak at him again over your sunglasses, he’s closed his eyes in relaxation, and you begin to think about the journey that’s led you to this very moment. 
After you and Jungkook made it through high school, both of you happened to receive scholarships to the same university in the city. You on a nearly full-ride academic scholarship and him on baseball scholarship. Though right before both of you shipped yourselves off to university, you two decided to take an unplanned long, beach weekend trip back to his home in Busan. It took quite a bit of convincing for your parents to ultimately let you go on a trip with just Jungkook alone. Though after Mr. and Mrs. Jeon explained that they had two extra bedrooms in their beach house and you two were ensured you had to check in with whatever you decided to do, your parents caved. You’re not even sure you and Jungkook would call it a vacation now, but at the time, it was so fun. So fun in fact that both of you decided after that trip, you two would continue to take summer trips together after the school year ended. 
Throughout your semesters at university, both of you worked part-time jobs despite your busy schedules to save up for your trips. Jungkook usually worked more hours in the Fall, given his baseball schedule in the Spring was more demanding. Yet you two somehow always made it work. The year after freshman year, the two of you went to Seoraken National Park for five days, hiking and taking multiple dips in the hot springs. After sophomore year, you both decided to save a little more and fly to Tokyo, though staying in the absolute most-dirt cheap hotel you could possibly find. 
It’s after this summer where Jungkook’s life completely fell apart—every time you look at the scar on his knee, a chill is still sent down your spine. You remember the day so vividly—an open scrimmage in the Fall with the rival university in the city. Of course, you went to support Jungkook with your roommate Lisa, excited to see Jungkook officially play as captain—an unheard of accomplishment for a junior on the team. You’ll never forget the scream he yelled out as soon as he slid into the home plate, the opposing catchers cleat getting twisted up under Jungkook’s knee. He rolled onto his side, clutching his leg in agonizing pain as the crowd watched in shock. 
Jungkook had torn his ACL and MCL, as well as multiple smaller ligaments and muscles in the surrounding area of his right knee. In a fucking scrimmage, he would say through anger, frustration, and tears. The injury was career ending and that was the only time you’d ever seen Jungkook cry in your years of friendship. Jungkook had gone from someone who was expecting to be drafted in the first or second round, to someone who had lost their baseball scholarship and a fucked up knee for the rest of his life. Jungkook almost didn’t even finish school after that, though through the pressure of his parents and you, he walked across the graduation stage with you less than two months ago. You were proud him, star baseball player or not, though you know it’s something he still struggles with to this day even if he doesn’t voice it. 
After Jungkook’s knee had healed through physical therapy and other treatments, he ended up working more hours and working with little league teams in the city for extra money. By the end of the Spring semester, both of you had saved up enough money to where it was feasible to pretty much go wherever you wanted. You settled on flying to Europe, doing a two week excursion that was exhausting—but worth every penny you spent. There had been some squabble on that trip between the two of you and a third party, but the last thing you wanted was to think about that. 
Now you’re sat on Jeju Island with him, enjoying every moment you can get with your best friend before your life changes forever. Through countless hours of working, volunteering, and two internships, you had landed a dream job of being an editor in New York City. You weren’t due to move until the Fall, but the prospect of not seeing your friends and family made you extremely sad. It’s also why you’ve realized that whatever feelings you’ve harbored for Jungkook, must be kept secret deep within your body. It wasn’t reasonable to act upon them when you would be leaving—you wouldn’t ruin your friendship and leave Jungkook here in that way. 
“Earth to Y/N?” Jungkook’s voice knocks you out of your long reverie. You hadn’t even read a full page of your book as it’s still on the page you folded in the corner earlier. 
“W-what? Sorry,” you snap out of it, turning to him as you put your sunglasses on your head. 
“I said do you wanna head up soon? Make some dinner? Watch a movie tonight or something?” He asks. Your heart strings pull at the domesticity and you’re nodding before you even speak. 
“Yeah,” your expression is soft, “Though you’re in charge of the cooking tonight. I’ve done it the past two nights,” you warn him. 
He smirks, digging around his beach bag for his t-shirt to pull on, “Fine. Only if I get to pick the movie we watch.”
“Hey! That’s not fair!” You pout. After he pulls his shirt on—which you’re thankful for—he reaches over to pinch your thigh in retaliation. You jerk in reaction, “Asshole.” 
He laughs again, both of you beginning to pack up your things. Though you don’t voice it, you love hearing his laugh. 
Jungkook prepares a small array of yummy dishes—tteokbokki, a chicken stir fry, cucumber salad, and of course a side of kimchi. Neither one of you had been to the store since you two arrived to the island on Sunday, so there wasn’t much else to work with now on Friday. You make a mental note to create a new list and go again tomorrow, still having another week of your two week trip. The cottage AirBnB was small but had everything you two needed for the vacation. A kitchen, dining room, living room with a pullout couch (that wasn’t being utilized), a bedroom with a king bed which even had a small balcony that overlooked the beach. You definitely lucked out in terms of booking the AirBnB on the quieter side of the island, having most of the beach to yourselves the last few days. 
“Excuse me?” You’re laughing as you look at Jungkook dumbfounded from his words. 
His mouth turns up in the right corner as he smiles, “You heard me,” he remarks, “We should do drugs.” 
He carries on his task of drying the pan he used for the stir fry, looking at you with a kink in his pierced eyebrow. You narrow your eyes at him, leaning against the counter as you watch him, fighting your own smile. 
“And where are you going to find drugs on this island?” You say pointedly. 
“Sweetheart, you know I have connections,” he retorts back, putting the pan back into his respectful cabinet. If there was another thing that Jungkook did to turn you on; his cleanliness. He was the most organized man you had ever met—unsure if he was actually part of the male species given the track record of your other guy friends. He was cleaner and more organized than you most of the time. 
“You’re ridiculous Jeon,” your roll your eyes, “Can I trust said drugs?” 
His smirk spreads even wider, knowing that he’s got you now. 
“Of course, Yoongi wouldn’t sell me anything sketchy,” he says quickly leaving the kitchen. You have no idea who this Yoongi guy is, but you go along with it. You cross your arms as you lean against the counter, your eyes drifting off to the beautiful sunset over the water. You felt lucky to spend your time like this with Jungkook. He quickly comes back, a plastic bag in hand. 
“What is it?” You ask him curiously. 
“It’s a chocolate chip cookie edible,” he pauses, holding up the bag as he observes it, “Think of it as a two for one; dessert and a high.” 
You let out a laugh through your nose, grabbing the bag from him as you inspect it from the outside. As with any edible, it looks just like a normal cookie. You purse your lips, thinking about it for a moment. You hadn’t got high in awhile—since right before graduation actually. You and your roommates shared a nasty bong, with Lisa ultimately keeping it after you all moved out. You and Jungkook had your fair share of getting high together, whether it be at parties at the baseball house or his apartment on Sundays with his roommate Taehyung. 
You open the bag, sniffing it as Jungkook watches you, clearly amused. You break off a small piece of the cookie, plopping it into your mouth knowing it will take at least an hour for you to start to feel the effects of it. It tastes good, although there’s still that tinge of THC that never goes away fully with baked edibles. 
You walk up to Jungkook, shoving the bag into his chest, “I’m going to shower,” you announce. He nods, biting his lip as you walk away from him, his throat feeling slightly clogged. He watches your frame as you disappear into the bathroom, calling after you quickly. 
“Don’t use all the hot water!” He says from the kitchen, digging in the bag to take out his own piece of the cookie. Maybe this would help him clear his head from you. 
You’re giggling uncontrollably as you scroll through your phone, small cackles coming from you lips occasionally. 
“Y/N stop! Give me that!” Jungkook reaches over, attempting to take your phone away from you, but his own laughter taking control. 
You and Jungkook had decided to forgo the movie, opting to enjoy the balcony attached to the bedroom. It was well past 10 PM now, the sun fully set and a couple small candles and the lamps from the bedroom the only light sources. For whatever reason, both of you had been on a path of looking at old pictures of each other, you hysterically laughing at one of them from high school when both of you decided to go to the school dance together as friends. You were mainly laughing at the way he styled his hair, even then at 16 you thought it was ridiculous. 
“I don’t even know why you still have that picture,” he mutters in defeat on his side of the couch. 
You furrow your eyebrows at him as you push his leg with your foot. He’s sat up, right leg underneath him, head resting on his hand as he looks at you. You’re laying on your back, legs outstretched over his lap. 
“Why wouldn’t I?” You push, “I think I have every known picture of you thanks to your brother.” 
It’s the truth—you had more baby pictures of Jungkook on your phone than you did of yourself. He was just too damn cute and awkward. You and Jungkook’s older brother had a good relationship throughout the years, Junghyun, always making sure to send you gems of your best friend when he found them. They looked similar, though Jungkook pulled more features from his dad, including the big eyes and big nose, whereas Junghyun looked more like their mother. 
“God I can’t stand him,” he groans running a hand through his freshly dried and showered hair. He’s wearing a pair of sweatshorts and a t-shirt, his tattoos disappearing in the darkness. You’re wearing a tank top and sweatpants, feeling much better since your shower, even better since your high has kicked in. 
“This was a good idea,” you completely change the subject, not even really sure of your own words. 
He smiles at you, “I’m full of good ideas Y/N.” 
His smile make your heart thump, unable to keep your mind from going there. Your intrusive thoughts only took over when you were intoxicated. You stare at his lips a little too long before you look at your phone to change the song playing lowly from Jungkook’s bluetooth speaker. 
The thing about being friends with someone of the opposite species for so long—it’s that your friends could barely hold themselves from being shitheads sometimes. It was sophomore year—right before Jungkook’s accident—when you were at one of the many baseball parties you attended throughout college. While you were drunk, you knew that succumbing to truth or dare was your own doing. You should have seen it coming from a mile away when a mutual friend and teammate of Jungkook’s—Park Jimin—dared you to kiss him. If you had been more sober, you probably would have just taken the bitch cup and moved on with your life. Though being drunk and a little too curious after your years of friendship with Jungkook, you turned to him and pressed your lips against his. He—along with the entire group seemed taken aback at your actions—hearing whoops and ooo’s during the kiss.
Neither you nor Jungkook spoke about that after the party. It was almost as if it had never happened. It didn’t bother you too much given you were drunk and being silly. It was a brief kiss, no tongue, but enough to satiate your curiosity. At least at that point in time. Now, your curiosity was getting the best of you in other feats—though you’ve sworn to yourself you wouldn’t ever cross that line. 
“Do you ever think about life in like, ten years?” Jungkook suddenly asks, his gaze off to the distance over the balcony. From the cottage, you could faintly hear waves still crashing. 
“Hm,” you mumble, “I guess? I don’t know…” 
He looks over at you, “I do,” he says simply. 
“What does the Jeon Jungkook think about then?” You press, deciding to sit up some on the couch. You grab a pillow to support your back as you settle against the armrest of the couch. 
“I think about being married, having kids, that sorta thing,” his voice is low, yet serious. Through your hazy gaze, you bite your lip nervously.
“That’s very adult of you,” you try to lighten the mood with a giggle. He doesn’t laugh, only returning a fainted smile. 
“Do you not?” He looks away from you sounding rushed and little nervous, picking at loose skin along his cuticles. 
You suddenly feel a lump form in your throat, pulse uneasy, anxiety rises in your veins. Of course you did. 
“I mean yeah,” you offer weakly, “I guess I’ve just always been more concerned with the present,” you tell him honestly. 
He nods, fully understanding—it’s how he used to think too until his accident. He never truly had to put much thought into his future until that day on the field changed his entire life. His future was set and then suddenly it wasn’t. Now, he worries about his future everyday and where life is going to take him. He thought he was going to play professional ball until his thirties, making enough money that he’d never have to worry about a real job. Turns out, life had other things in store for Jungkook. And with you leaving thousands of miles away; his life really wasn’t panning out how he thought. 
“I like the idea of marriage you know?” He says with a hidden adoration in his tone. You find yourself softly smiling at him. “Like just having that one person for you, sharing a life together, does that sound stupid?” he exhales heavily after his question. 
You quickly shake your head, “Not at all,” you say pulling your legs to sit criss-cross, “We’ll all get there one day.. I feel like our paths are set for us.” 
He shrugs, feeling a little pessimistic, “I don’t know,” he breathes heavily, “I thought everything was going to work out a certain way… but I don’t know anymore,” he sounds defeated and sad. You look at him concerned, though you’re sure he’s just spitting high word vomit. You know a lot about Jungkook, but you’ve never heard him speak of such things—except during his relationship with Park Chaeyoung. 
Chaeyoung was Jungkook’s first serious relationship in the time span you’d known him. They met at the end of sophomore year, but only officially began dating at the beginning of junior year. While Chaeyoung was beautiful and smart enough to make you feel insecure, you weren’t her biggest fan. She kept her distance from you and you don’t know if you could exactly blame her. You were Jungkook’s best friend who happened to be a female. You want to say if you were in her shoes that you wouldn’t care who was Jungkook’s best friend, but you’re not sure could 100% say that. 
You first realized that Chaeyoung wasn’t particularly fond of you when you met Jungkook at the hospital after his accident; waiting to confirm his surgery date and time. Even though Jungkook didn’t want you to go, you were the one that actually ended up leaving to not make Chaeyoung uncomfortable. Throughout the rest of junior year, tension built between you and Chaeyoung, and some distance grew between you and Jungkook. You’re sure that she never knew about the kiss you two had shared the year before; she would have freaked the hell out. 
Jungkook was in love with Chaeyoung though. He fell hard and he fell fast—giving all of his love and extra time to her. You can vividly remember him talking about how he thought she could be the one. He was a hopeless romantic at heart but it’s when Chaeyoung told him he couldn’t go on the Europe trip you two had been planning for months that he finally stood up to her. It didn’t go over well, with her jealously taking over to the point where he broke it off with her a couple weeks before you two departed. 
You thought that the trip was going to be good for him to get his mind off her but when they were consistently communicating behind your back, that’s when arguments throughout the two week trip conspired between you and Jungkook. Finally, with four days left of your trip, he decided to stop contact with her and everything between you two only went up again from there. 
Though right here, right now; you can’t help but think his words are about Chaeyoung. You knew that they were acquaintances this past school year and always cordial when they saw each other. You suddenly feel insecure in the dim light, but you plaster a fake smile on your face to rid your mind of Jungkook and his ex.
“Don’t sound so doom and gloom Jungkookie,” you push yourself up and over to him, trying to make him feel better. You sit on your knees up next to him, pinching his left cheek between your fingers. He giggles but you don’t stop, pinching from his cheek to his chin, to his ear. 
“Y/N I swear to god—“ are his last threatening words that you should have taken seriously because it’s not long until you find yourself being tickled to death by him. 
“Jungkook! Stop!” You laugh, trying to fight yourself away from him, but his grip is too strong as he keeps you in place against the couch. You’re kicking your legs to try to get away from him as he attacks your side with his own chuckles filling up the space. To any outsider listening in, it probably sounds like a fucked up murderer situation.
You don’t even realize what’s happened until you open your eyes fully, Jungkook pinning your wrists down, his body hovering on top of yours. He’s stood with one leg on the ground, his bad knee resting between your legs on the couch. It feels like the world has stopped as you stare into each other’s eyes, your breath hitching in your throat. Jungkook has to make a conscious effort to not stare at your cleavage rising up and down as you breath in and out heavily. 
“I-I might go to bed soon,” you say nervously, breaking eye contact with him to unraveling yourself from his grip. He rises as you do to give you space, wiping his hands on his shorts. 
He nods, “Me too,” is all he says. 
You leave the balcony to go brush your teeth and change into your pajamas. Jungkook stays behind to blow out the candles and turn off his speaker, feeling a heaviness between you two now. As he turns the bed down, his own hands are clammy, his high waring off faster than he would like. Both of you had no issue sharing the king bed when you booked the AirBnB a couple months ago, but now he’s fully regretting that decision. When Jungkook comes back from the kitchen with two glasses of water for you both, he finds you already climbing into bed in your cute matching, purple PJ set. 
“Thank you,” you smile at him as he hands you the glass. You take a sip, feeling cotton mouth arise from the edible. 
He climbs into bed soon after, turning off the lamp on his side of the bed encasing both of you in pure darkness. 
“Goodnight Y/N,” are his last words that evening. 
“Night Jungkook,” you say weakly as you’re facing away from him on your side. While you two have already made invisible boundaries when sharing the bed this past week, you make more of a conscious effort than ever to keep space between you two as you both drift off into sleep. 
It’s been a few days since your edible escapades with Jungkook. Both of you have seemingly moved on from the conversations had, the tension that had built up subsiding over the next few days. Now you two are back again at the beach in your normal routine. Jungkook’s just go out in the water from surfing and you’re laying on your tummy, starting the second book of your vacation. You decided to go with something different for you—a thriller about a writer brought in by another author’s husband to finish her books for her as she lies in a coma. Weird. 
You know Jungkook’s back from the water when you feel water droplets scatter across your back. You look up from your book to find Jungkook sat down on his towel beside you, rubbing his right knee. 
“You okay?” You ask him with concern. His major surgery scar is still less than two years old, therefore it’s still quite white and reflective in the sunlight. 
He glances over to you before nodding, “Yeah I’m good, it’s just kind of stiff from surfing on it so much.” 
You can’t help but feel an extreme amount of sadness when you watch him massage his skin. Your resting your chin on your hand as you study him carefully. From the moment you met Jungkook, baseball was his complete identity. It’s why people came up to him even if he didn’t want the attention. It’s what taught him discipline and hard work ethic. It’s what made him happy. The fact it was taken away from him so quickly terrifies you. You can’t even imagine the internal battles he’s had ever since that fateful day. 
“Swim with me?” He suddenly asks. 
Through the top of your sunglasses you glare at him, a groan leaving your mouth, “Jungkook you know how much I hate swimming in the ocean.” 
He rolls his eyes at the dramatics, “Y/N there aren’t sharks in this part of the ocean,” he laughs. 
You close your book not wanting to lose your place, “You don’t know that!” You retort. 
He laughs again, this time ruffling your hair slightly, “I’ll protect you…” he trails off, a small pout crossing his features, “Plus it’ll make this feel better,” he’s referring to his knee. 
Ugh, he really knew how to convince you. 
You then agree, both getting up at the same time. You adjust your bikini to which Jungkook stares shamelessly. Your skin goes hot and you pretend you don’t see him doing so. You walk side by side to the water, a yelp leaving your lips when you feel how cold it is. 
“Fuck Jungkook! It’s cold!” You whine as he continues his descent deeper. You’ve stopped at where the water hits your ankles, he’s at his knees. 
“C’mon princess,” he whines back and the nickname gives you butterflies, “I’ll drag your ass in here if you don’t move woman!” 
“Ugh,” you spit, “I’m coming,” you slowly walk towards him as he continues to walk deeper until he’s about to his chest, finally letting himself float against the waves after he gets over where they break. 
“Y/N,” he says threateningly as you’ve stopped where the water hits your waist.
“Jungkook,” you respond but suddenly your heart sinks when he dips his body below water, disappearing beneath the surface. Your eyes widen as you look around paranoid. You know exactly what he’s up to. Though you’re expecting it, you have no time to brace yourself when Jungkook has suddenly grabbed your leg, pulling you beneath the water. You’re screaming, bubbles escaping your mouth until you reach the surface. 
Jungkook has broken the water only a few inches from you as he laughs loudly, tipping his head bad. You push water towards his face, anger filling your body. 
“Fuck you Jungkook!” You yell, his continuous laughter pissing you off even more. 
You launch at him in the water, hiking yourself up onto his back as punishment. You wrap your legs around his torso and he adjusts you comfortably. If he was going to protect you, he really was going to protect you. 
“I really hate you sometimes,” you mutter into his ear, his back rumbling against your chest as he chuckles. 
“You love me,” he retorts. 
You really do. 
“See this isn’t too bad,” he then says looking over his shoulder to meet your gaze. 
“We’re sitting ducks Jungkook,” you mumble, eyes looking around the water, still slightly paranoid. There’s a few other people in the water and a couple surfers which makes you feel a little better. 
“It’s okay to get out of your comfort zone you know,” he raises a brow when you climb off his back, deciding to swim close in front of him. Both of you float with only a few inches between you two, water at your chests. 
“Mhm,” you say sarcastically, “That’s what they all say before they’ve gotten their leg bit off,” you move your arms around to keep you wading. Thankfully it didn’t take long to get used to the chilly water. 
He bites his lip as he watches you with an amused expression. You push away the way it makes you feel. 
“You know that’s why I wanted to be your friend right?” 
You furrow your eyebrows, moving to float on your back. Jungkook being the gentlemen he is, he ends up beside you, his arms giving your back some support in the water as you float. 
“What do you mean?” You ask him. 
You can’t see his expression as you’ve closed your eyes, the sun too bright to keep them open. His fingertips graze your skin every few seconds and you swear it feels like electricity running through your spine. 
“You’ve always been the one to get me out of my comfort zone,” he points out like it’s obvious—though you’ve never had an inkling of this. 
You open one eye at him in a squint, his face a lot closer to yours than you expected, “I don’t think so,” you laugh a little awkwardly as you give up on floating, settling back to your normal swimming position with him in front of you. 
“I wouldn’t lie Y/N,” he laughs in return, “You’ve known me for a long time, you know how fucking weird I used to be.” 
“Hey you weren’t weird,” you defend him, “Just a little awkward and going through puberty.” 
He rolls his eyes, “Fucking weird,” he repeats, “I just mean I’ve never had a friend that’s always pushed me to do things I normally wouldn’t do. Hell just the vacations we’ve taken together is just one example,” he pauses, his next words cutting him a little deep, “I feel like you’re the reason I ever had a life outside of baseball.” 
You bite your lip under the water as you don’t break his heavy eye contact. You’d never realize Jungkook thought that highly of you. It makes you feel giddy on the inside, but also a little sad that you were never that confident in your abilities as a friend. If anything, you thought Jungkook brought you out of your shell more. 
“I’m just a small part of your life Jungkook,” is what you settle on. 
They way his face falls doesn’t go unnoticed, “Trust me,” he pauses beginning a swim back to shore for you to follow him, “You’re a pretty big part Y/N.” 
It’s now Friday, which means you and Jungkook only have one and a half days left of your trip. The thought makes you sad, though you know that it’s not like you wouldn’t be seeing Jungkook afterwards. He lives in the same neighborhood as you for chrissakes. But given the loom of your impending move in a couple months, you couldn’t help but feel a finality of your life here coming soon. 
You and Jungkook had gone out a couple times since being here, though neither of you had fully committed to getting too drunk. You had a feeling though that tonight you were ready to full let loose. Jungkook complimented you as soon as you were ready to leave, sending heat through your body. You were wearing a white two piece set—a small bralette type top with a matching mini-skirt that wrapped around your waist nicely. Your strappy heels gave you some height to Jungkook and you’re sure to any other tourist, you two looked like a couple. 
Jungkook looked absolutely ravishing, the familiar lump of the past couple weeks forming when you laid eyes on him. He was dressed in an extravagant short sleeve button that was a yellow and white along with white pants to tie everything in. You almost laughed one, being you’re 99% sure the shirt is Fendi—how the hell did he afford that?—and two, you’re not sure you’d seen him in anything in sweatpants and t-shirts since graduation. Even then, it took you and Taehyung a lot of convincing for Jungkook to wear dress pants under his cap and gown. 
You and Jungkook had ate dinner at a local sushi bar, getting a couple drinks there to pregame your evening. You don’t know how Jungkook ate and drank so much and keep the figure he had. It had to be genetics; there’s no other way. 
It was now a little past 9 and both of you were feeling drunk—a good drunk—a happy drunk. The bar you two were at was partially outside, with a dance floor and good drinks. You and Jungkook are talking to a couple who also happen to be on vacation. 
“Honeymooning is fun for sure,” the woman says, her words a little slurred, “Are you two honeymooning too?” 
Both you and Jungkook begin to stutter, shaking your heads awkwardly, mumbling your words together. 
“We’re not together,” you manage to get out as you lean against the bar for stability. Jungkook’s stood behind you, his chest touching your shoulder as his arm sits behind your frame protectively. 
The new husband’s eyes widen, “Could’ve fooled me,” he says, “Right honey?” 
“I agree Joon,” she eyes you up and down, clearly shameless as she does so. “Let’s go dance baby!” She suddenly exclaims. The couple—Namjoon and Camille—bid their farewells to you and Jungkook, leaving you two alone again at the bar. 
You suddenly feel a little awkward under the strangers gaze, looking up and over at Jungkook. He’s giving them a straight smile before his eyes watch them walk away, an amused expression filling his eyes as he begins to laugh. 
“You want another drink, honey?” He suddenly asks through a joke and you crack a smile, turning around to playfully push him. You catch a whiff of his scent as you stare at him intently, trying to ignore the deep stir of heat in your tummy. His gaze his vibrant as you take his sunglasses tucked from his shirt and place them over your eyes. 
“If you’re paying Jeon,” you smile at him wickedly. 
Jungkook orders both of you tequila shots, both of your faces scrunching up when you bite the lime for some relief. You have chills running down your spine, trying your best to keep the contents down. 
“We’re going to be hurting tomorrow,” you say, sliding the shot glass back towards the bartender. 
“I don’t even want to think about it,” he groans, suddenly reaching out to grab his phone. It’s buzzing in his hand, “It’s Junghyun,” he looks at you, “I’ll be right back?” 
You nod, telling him you’d be right here. You watch as he walks away from you, a deep exhale escaping you. You’re intoxicated again—intrusive thoughts taking over your brain. You reminiscence over the last two weeks with Jungkook here. He makes you so incredibly happy and you’re sure that if you let yourself, you’d fall deeply in love with him—more than you already are. You’ve been through thick and thin together. You can’t let yourself go there though—it couldn’t happen. The friendship you two had between each other was too important to you. You’re not even sure Jungkook could even feel these feelings towards you. For all you know, he was just talking about his shitty ex the other day. 
Your thoughts are interrupted when suddenly a man appears in front of you. A man that’s not Jungkook. He’s leaning his elbows on the bar as he waits for the bartender to take his order. He gives you a glance and you stare shamelessly. He’s quite attractive, that’s for damn sure. 
“You want a drink sweetheart?” He suddenly asks, the pet name not sounding as good as it does coming from your best friend. 
You find your voice over the music, “I’m good, thank you,” you smile at him knowing if you drink anymore, you’d be crossing the line of fun drunk to a miserable blackout. 
He nods respecting what you’ve said, ordering two shots of whiskey for himself. You look around the bar trying to find Jungkook. It’s loud and crowded, but you haven’t been able to spot him in that ridiculous yellow shirt. You wonder what Junghyun needed that’s taking so long. 
“What’s your name?” The strangers asks you as he turns his body to face yours completely. 
You lean towards him some to save your voice, “Y/N,” you tell him. 
A charming smile spreads across his face, “Well miss Y/N, why is a beautiful girl at this bar alone?” 
You’ve dealt with many men of this caliber, so his words don’t creep you out much. Internally you applaud him for using the term beautiful, and not the typical hot or pretty. 
“I’m not alone,” you tell him. He looks around the area you both are, your point not withstanding, “What’s your name?” You change the subject. 
He downs his second shot of whiskey, “Jackson. It’s nice to meet you,” he offers his hand graciously and you shake it in return. 
“Well Jackson,” you pause, feeling that tequila shot getting to you, “Why are you here at this bar alone?” 
He laughs, raising an eyebrow at you, “I’m not alone either,” he retorts. 
You nod slowly, a small smile spreading across your lips. Again, your eyes do another dance around the bar to spot Jungkook to no avail. 
“Do you want to dance with me Miss Y/N?” He suddenly asks taking you completely off guard. You open your mouth then close it, only to open it again to say nothing. You should say no. You know in your heart you should say no. However with no sign of Jungkook and this Jackson guy seeming like a normal guy, you felt no guilt when you take his hand for him to take you to the dance floor. 
The bar has great club and house music playing, making dancing an easy feat. Jackson is a great dancer, finding the rhythm to the songs easily as the DJ switches them rapidly. You find yourself comfortable with him, resting your hands lazily on his shoulders as he guides you through the motions. Maybe you’re too drunk, or you’re just relaxed, but you feel good in this moment. It reminds you of being a college freshman with Lisa, when you two would go to sweaty frat and baseball parties, dancing the night away with water bottles filled with cheap vodka. 
The tide between you and Jackson folds when you turn around, unknowingly pressing your back to his chest. You both are swaying in the changing lights, his arms resting on your waist protectively, his head resting on your left shoulder. You’ve always been a decent dancer too, Jackson finding it impressive as you keep up with each other. When you find a hand gripping at Jackson’s hair pulling him closer to you, it’s when reality hits, time freezing in that very moment. You’ve opened your eyes after sometime, across the bar Jungkook walks in, his eyes finding yours instantaneously. His lips part, a painful expression crossing his features. He watches you only for a moment, his heels turning himself around to leave you be, heart feeling like someone’s crucifying it. 
You suddenly panic, creating immediate space between you and Jackson. You turn around and lean up to his ear. 
“I’m sorry, I really have to go—“ you tell him in a rush. He’s clearly confused but before you can listen to whatever he has to say, your feet pick you up to the path Jungkook must have taken to get out of here. It’s difficult to get through the crowd of people, especially in your heels and drunkenly, but you manage. 
When you go to the outsider area of the bar, you don’t spot him. Shit, you think, where did he go? You start to panic, reaching for your phone out of your purse. You quickly scroll to his name, hitting the call button. You groan with an eye-roll—of course he isn’t going to fucking answer you. 
You’re not completely sure he’s not in the bar anymore, but you chance it, leaving the bar alone. Thankfully the streets are well lit and there are plenty of people around to make you feel safe. You’re typing him a mean text as you walk back towards your cottage, ready to curse him out when you see him. That is, until you actually see him—then your mind goes blank. 
Jungkook’s sat on the curb of a small, local convenient store eating what seems to be an ice cream sandwich. You’ve got to be fucking kidding. 
“Jungkook!” You nearly exclaim, “What the hell are you doing?” You approach him, stumbling slightly in your heels. 
He quickly notices how unstable you are, standing up to steady you, “You okay Y/N?” 
You push him off you, “No the fuck I’m not okay,” you spit at him, “You just left me there?” You’re drunk and frustrated, that’s all you know. 
“Here,” he offers the rest of his ice cream sandwich. You can’t resist him and you take it, eating it in two bites. He watches you carefully before saying, “Sorry, I just thought you were preoccupied.” 
You throw away the paper wrapper, looking at him like he’s crazy. 
“Are you for real Jungkook?” You press, not caring if you’re bringing attention to the two of you as people pass by. He shoves his hands into his pockets, exhaling heavily. 
“You want to go home?” He asks with straight lips. You cross your arms over your chest angrily, what the hell was his problem? 
“Do you want to go home?” You ask him in retaliation. 
He only looks a you a brief moment before nodded slowly. This conversation is seriously sobering you up faster than anything has ever before and nothing productive has even be said. 
He turns around, “C’mon,” he says. 
“What do you mean?” You ask him confused as he’s widened his stance, as if he’s ready for you to plow over him. 
“Hop on Y/N,” he says, “And don’t even try to fight me on this. I know your feet are killing you.” 
He wants to piggy back you home. You stay put, hands playing with each other awkwardly staring at his back. He glances over his shoulder and says your name again. 
“B-but your k-knee Jungkook,” you say hesitantly. You knew Jungkook weight lifted and did enough cardio for him to live until he was 105, but the last thing you wanted was for him to injure himself again, especially because of you.
“It’s fine Y/N, I promise,” he says, “I just want to get you home.” 
As you brace yourself on his shoulders, you try to jump as light as possible to lessen the blow to his body. He catches you gracefully, adjusting your knees in his hands. And home is where you two go. 
After you two walk into the threshold of the cottage—you insisting on walking the last little bit of the way—a parable tension that could be cut with a knife has settled between you two. You tried your best to talk to him on the way back, but his answers were short and uninterested. You only had remnants of your drunkenness left inside you and if anything, you were tightening back up, even angrier than when you left the bar. 
Jungkook’s about to walk into your shared bedroom before you call after him. 
“Wait Jungkook!” You say. He stops in his tracks, turning to look at you. His face is unreadable in the dim lights of the cottage. “What the fuck happened back there?” You ask him as you take off your heels, leaving them by the couch. 
“It’s nothing Y/N,” he brushes you off, turning around to continue his path to the bedroom. Of course you follow him; he expected it. 
“Jungkook, come onnn,” you press, “Are you that pissed that I was dancing with someone else?” You can’t hide your anger and frustration if you tried. This wasn’t fair to you. He had paraded girls throughout college— parading Chaeyoung for a year and a half in front of you—and you never said anything about it no matter how much it bothered you. 
“Y/N it’s fine, can we just,” he pauses as he looks over at you, “Just drop it?” He’s taking off his rings and bracelets, your lip tucked between your teeth. 
You make an unsatisfied noise, stepping closer to him, “No we fucking can’t. What’s your problem Jungkook?” 
He leans on the dresser with both hands, his muscle definition showing through his shirt as he tenses up. His jaw clenches as he closes his eyes in deep reverie. You watch him carefully, knowing you probably should tread lightly given he’s pissed. But you know what? You’re pissed too. He can’t act like that with no explanation—that’s not fair to you. 
“Junghyun called me about you, you know,” are his first words as he looks over to you. 
“M-me?” You stutter, confusion lacing your tone. 
He pushes himself off the dresser, though he keeps distance between you two. He suddenly runs a frustrated grip through his hair, messing it up slightly. 
“You know, since you’re moving halfway across the fucking globe,” he sounds bitter, though deep dejection is mainly what you hear. You moving had been a sensitive topic with him ever since the interview stage happened with you months ago. It hurt you to speak about it with Jungkook the most. The thought of leaving him crushed both of you which is why neither of you had brought it up these past two weeks. 
“He was asking me if I had done it yet,” he laughs sarcastically, “Of fucking course he was.” 
You’re more confused than ever and you say his name in a whisper, but he continues. 
“You know the other day when you said that you were only a small part of my life, that’s when it really hit me,” he pauses, “You really don’t know how much you fucking mean to me Y/N. You’ve been my best friend for so long, been there with me through so much of my bullshit—my accident, losing my scholarship, losing my fucking life—“ he inhales deeply and you suddenly feel dizzy, unsure of where this conversation has turned.
“—And now I’m fucking losing you and I can’t even be honest with you because it doesn’t matter,” his voice breaks off as he looks at his feet. You start to panic, a roller coaster of emotions pulsing through you. 
You step towards him hesitantly, “Jungkook you can always be honest with me,” you grab his forearm, “I’m your best friend for fucksakes—stop with the hysterics and just tell me what’s wrong,” you plead with him. If your words weren’t enough, your eyes were giving a show. 
His bottom lip trembles as he meets your gaze. You have adrenaline running through you as he moves to rest his hands on your waist, gripping the skin tight. 
“I love you Y/N,” he says letting out a deep breath before he can second guess himself. 
“I know,” you tell him, “Jungkook you know I love you too.. you’re scaring me—“
“No Y/N,” he shakes his head, “I’m in love with you—like fucking crazy about you Y/N.” 
His words take your breath away, stumbling slightly as you can’t believe the words he’s saying. He’s what? Jungkook’s in love with you? You part your lips, unable to form sentences, shaking your head stunned 
“You don’t have to say anything,” he looks down, his forehead brushing yours, “But I couldn’t let you move without telling you—I don’t know how long it’s been but it just happened one day and I haven’t stopped since.” 
“Jungkook,” you finally whisper after some silence, your palms finding solace on his broad chest, “I-I don’t know what to say,” you pause looking up through your lashes. You feel like you could cry from the up and down of your emotions. 
You both stare at each other, unsure of who is going to make the next move. You decide that it will be you. 
“B-but when we talked the other night about the future and stuff… I thought you were talking about Chaeyoung,” you admit, feeling a little dumb now that this secret has been spilled. 
Jungkook lets out a laugh, unsure he heard you correctly, “Y/N—what, no, I haven’t spoken to Chaeyoung in months at this point,” he pauses, his strong hands gripping your forearms gently, “I was talking about you.. it’s always been you.”
There’s a silence that falls; a war raging in your head as you go through as many memories as you can with Jungkook. He’s been there for you at any moment you’ve needed him and vice versa. You couldn’t imagine a life without him and right now—you’ve finally decided in allowing yourself to be honest. 
“Y/N I know this is unfair since you’re leaving but—“
“I love you too Jungkook,” you interrupt him to which he responds with a mellow what, “I know that I’m in love with you Jungkook—I have for some time now, I just didn’t want to admit it.. I-I was scared and I didn’t know how to bring it up, fuck I’m sorry—“
You’re suddenly cut off with Jungkook’s lips covering yours. You instantly melt into his lips as your eyes close, your hands finding their way around his neck to pull him down to you. After a few moments, he pulls away from you, rubbing his nose against yours. 
“Is this real?” He asks, a small smile playing on his lips; all anxiousness leaving your body at once. You return a small smile, nodding in his delicate hold. 
“Real,” you whisper back, chasing after his lips once again. 
This time when your lips meet his, it’s more aggressive from each side, pouring out all frustration and built up pining over the years into it. His tongue opens your mouth wider and you sigh into him, tangling your fingers into his soft hair. His hands slither down from your waist to over your ass, pressing your hips into his. 
You’d never thought kissing someone could feel this good. Your entire body feels aflame as you both discover each others mouths piece by piece. Jungkook’s walked you backwards against the wall, holding you up against it firmly as you both continue to kiss each other feverishly. You rest your head against the wall as his lips move from yours to your neck, your breathing intensifying as he kisses and nips gently. 
“Jungkook,” you breathe heavily, as he places a kiss on your exposed shoulder, moving the flimsily strap to your top down. You get bolder with your own actions, maneuvering your hands underneath his shirt feeling his muscles tense under your touch. 
His lips find yours again, “I wanted this for so long Y/N,” he mumbles against your skin as you pull him taut to you. “Remember sophomore year? When you kissed me for that dare?” 
“Mhm,” you murmur in response as his hand experimentally trails its way up to cup your left breast, “How could I forget?” You tell him through a slight whine when he squeezes you through the thin material of your top. 
He smirks against your lips, tugging on your bottom lip ever so slightly, “I was so happy when you didn’t drink that bitch cup,” he admits. You can’t help but giggle at his words, one of your hands resting on the back of his neck to hold him close to you, “And this is much better than that.” 
You nip at his mouth again, “I agree,” you pause, your other hand playing with the buttons on his shirt, “Can I take this off?” You ask through your lashes; your voice soft and patient. 
Jungkook emits deep groan from his throat, “Is this okay with you?” He suddenly asks. 
You immediately nod, “Yes, yes, of course,” you begin your slow assault at his shirt buttons, undoing them one at a time. 
He kisses your forehead, “Okay… I just,” he pauses, “I’m just a little nervous,” he admits as he grapples at your waist again, pulling you flush against him. He’s got a growing bulge in his pants, making your squeeze your thighs together. 
“Why are you nervous?” You gaze at him with stars in your eyes, finding everything about him endearing and so lovable. 
He rests his forehead against yours, “I don’t know I’ve just thought about this for forever,” he pauses, “I want you to feel safe.” 
You smile sweetly at him, “I always feel safe with you Jungkook,” you tell him reassuringly. You lean forward, placing a kiss on his exposed chest when you finally undo the last button. You waste no time pushing the fabric off his golden skin, tattoos and all on fully display. 
“When did you get so hot?” You pout in between his kisses along your neck and collarbone. He chuckles into your skin, his hands now exploring both of your breasts through the fabric. 
“I’ve been wondering the same with you,” he kisses right between your cleavage, his fingers finding the zipper at the back of your top. 
“Please—“ your breath hitches when the cold air makes your nipples taut as he drags your shirt away, “Have you seen yourself?” You’ve barely finish your sentence until Jungkook’s lips are wrapping around your right nipple, sucking and teething at the sensitive. 
“Have you seen yourself Y/N?” He mumbles into your skin, paying attention to your left nipple now. “My pretty girl,” he breathes out pulling away from you, sending a fire through your veins. He grabs your hands and pulls you towards the bed not too far from the wall. 
You straddle him as you reconnect your lips together, rutting against him as your hips grind down. A shiver of pleasure runs through you, a subtle moan vanishing in his mouth. 
“Fuck,” he says, “Do that again, I like hearing you.” 
You chuckle, kissing near his ear, “Make me,” you challenge. Jungkook bites his lip, the grip on your hips tightening. 
Being as competitive as he is—it’s a challenge he’s willing to accept. 
Jungkook is suddenly flipping you two over, settling between your thighs, tits shaking as you readjust yourself. You spread your legs a little so he can sit comfortably on his knees between you, his bulge more prominent than ever, straining in his white pants. Your mouth literally waters as his hands push up your skirt, exposing your skimpy little lace thong that’s barely covering your cunt at this point. 
“Goddamn,” he gulps at the sight, his eyes flicking to yours quickly as your chest rises up and down in anticipation. You’re already so turned on—so wet just for him. If it was any other guy, you’d probably feel embarrassed but you were telling them truth when you said you felt safe with him. 
His tattooed hand slides down to your inner thigh, a couple of his fingers running over your clothed heat. Your hips cant outwards as he does this a couple times before he decides to ultimately pull your panties off, leaving them strung across the room somewhere. 
You hold his gaze as he spits onto his fingertips, now finding your bare pussy exposed for him in all its glory. He doesn’t waste time in dipping a finger inside you to test the waters. When your mouth falls open, he takes it as a good sign when you start to beg him for more. 
“Jungkook please,” you push out your hips, trying to get the most of one finger though it’s no use. “I need more,” you whine. 
He leans down, placing a kiss to your lips, “I know baby, I know,” you gasp when he adds in another finger, a steady strong of moans escaping you when he begins a gentle rhythm in and out of you. It’s torture the way it feels so so good, yet it’s still leaving you wanting more. 
He gets a hold of your right leg, holding it up slightly so he can penetrate deeper inside with his fingers, his thumb rubbing up against the hood of your clit. 
“Hold yourself open for me baby,” he says to which you obey, holding onto the side of your leg just as he was, “Good girl,” he praises you, which creates even more slick arousal. 
From here, he takes one of his hands to pull your clitoral hood open, using his other to circle your bud and enter your pussy in alternating motions. 
“Ah, shit—“ your hips jerk against him when you begin to feel yourself start to climb that hill to an orgasm. Your continuously moaning was sending him mad and your glistening cunt was a full invitation for him. 
He shifts his weight, his lips meeting your center to which your back arches off the mattress, a strained whine from you as he flicks his tongue over your clit. It’s obscene the way he gives you head—it’s hot and messy, little to no friction as he goes from focus on your hole with both his fingers and mouth, to sucking heavily on your clit. You could feel yourself dripping on the sheets underneath you, the wetness making Jungkook involuntarily push his cock into the mattress. 
“Jungkook—I’m gonna come,” you manage through your tight breaths. 
“Yeah baby?” He muses against you, the vibration of his voice sending a shockwave through your already swollen clit. You nod desperately into the bed, holding his head down with your left hand as your hips chase to meet his movements. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” chants fall from your lips when you feel yourself tip over the edge, falling heavily into an orgasm that overtakes your entire body. You don’t even care if you’re loud as you moan and rile beneath him, your pussy clenching around his fingers before he pulls them out to watch your cunt clench around nothing. 
“God, you’re so fucking sexy,” he marvels as you come down from your high, your body clearly relaxed now as you find time to catch your breath. You lean up on your elbows as he meets you halfway to kiss you again. He tastes like you as he tongues the inside of your mouth carefully. 
You scoot your body down some, hands finding the front of his pants. You can tell he’s big just by running your hand over his cock through the clothes. He inhales a sharp intake of breath when you squeeze him a little. You break your kiss to focus on getting him out of the fabric, unzipping and unbuttoning his pants quickly. You take notice of his white Calvin Kleins as he helps you push them down past his ankles. 
In a rush, you tug down the front of his boxers—breath hitching in the back of your throat. He was big—the biggest you’ve ever seen—thick and long between his muscular set of thighs. 
You whine when you take him in, never experiencing a want for someone so badly in your entire life. 
“Can I please suck it?” You whisper, your words sounding like sweet saccharine to his ears. As tempting as that sounds for him, he wasn’t sure how long he would last with you, and he needed to be inside of your pussy when he came.
“Not right now baby,” he says firm in his tone, “I want to be inside you so bad,” he sounds just as desperate as you feel. 
You nod quickly as you begin to take your skirt off since it’s still the last piece of clothing on you. Jungkook’s hands stop you quickly.
“No, no,” he chuckles, “Gonna fuck you in this pretty skirt,” he places a zealous kiss on your lips one more time before he suddenly gets up hurrying over to one of his duffle bags. He returns quickly and you watch carefully as you notice him tearing open a condom packet, his abs visible each time he breathes. 
“You brought condoms?” You ask him curiously. 
He smirks as he begins to roll it down over his fully hardened cock, “I’ve been bringing them with us everywhere since we went to Europe,” he explains as he instructs you to scoot back some. The thought makes you feel bubbly on the inside, laughing at him some. 
“So you’ve just assumed that we’re gonna fuck one day then?” You ask him as he settles between you, rubbing his tip against your folds. 
He closes his eyes briefly, before smirking again, “Never assumed, just hoped,” he lines himself up with your entrance, having to fight not to just slam right into you, “I’ll start slow okay?” 
You nod as you grip behind his neck and shoulder with each hand. Once Jungkook begins to push into you, you literally forget how to breathe. Jungkook groans as he bites his lip in full concentration, pushing a little farther. 
“It’s okay, breathe baby,” he encourages, “I know you can take it. My baby can take it, right?” 
He knows very well you can—he just wants to hear you say it in your voice that’s laced in honey and arousal for him. 
You nod faster that you ever had, “God, yes Jungkook I can, yes I can,” you finally find your oxygen as he pushes in slowly to the hilt. Your jaw was slack as his forehead rests against your own, a burning between your legs but pleasurable enough that you begin to involuntarily clench around him. 
“Shit baby, don’t do that,” he warns, “This tight little pussy is all mine, right?” 
“Of course Jungkook—“ he pulls back, then pushing back in, your hips canting upward to help him fulfill every inch inside you. “Oh my god—“ you whimper as he slowly begins to find his pace. 
“Are you okay?” He asks. 
“Yes, fuck yes, Jungkook just please don’t stop,” you beg, “Go faster, please.” 
One of his hands grip your right hip, the other fisting the sheets by your head as he does as he’s told, picking his pace up slowly but surely as the seconds pass. Its blissful heaven having him fill you up so good. You’d never thought you’d be in this position with Jungkook, but as time passes you wish that you two had got around to it a lot sooner. 
With each snap of his hips, your body moves upwards given force. A mantra of noises come from you as you watch his brows furrow from above you, strained groans and breathes escaping his lips. You could feel the simmering of another orgasm approaching you as his perfect stroke hits your g-spot. You grab at his face to steady him; his pace thrown off a bit when you lean up to kiss his lips gently. 
“Let me get on top,” you whisper to him. He tugs on your lip, unsure if he wants to give up control but with you, he’d relinquish any day. He pulls out, leaving you hallow with you quickly pushing him off of you and down to the mattress. His back is rested against the pillows and headboard to which you grab with one hand, using your another hand to line yourself back up with him. 
After you sink down, your arousal making it easy this time—you begin to find a pace against him that’s calculated to hit your insides in all the right areas. Jungkook grips your hips, pushing your skirt up slightly as he marvels up at you, drunk in a haze of you and you only. With uneven breaths, you can tell you’re on the verge of coming again, so he licks his thumb before he places it on your clit. Each touch of your hips presses firmly against his finger, explicative falling from your lips in a rush. 
“God—Jungkook, I-I can’t,” you choke out, squeezing around him tightly as he begins to push his own hips up to meet yours. 
One of his hands makes it way to your throat, pulling your forehead down to his as he takes the oxygen away from you. It’s too much—it’s all too much. 
“Yes baby, you can,” he encourages, “My pretty girl, come with me,” he adds after he begins to hold you in place some, shoving his hips up in a brutal pace to chase his own climax. 
It doesn’t take long for your second orgasm to hit, hit tipping backwards as you let out a half-scream of his name, jumbled together with high pitched moans. It goes on longer than your last one, convulsing around his cock as you lean forward in a daze. 
Jungkook’s close—his lip tucked into his teeth, brows deeply furrowed as he continues his pace up inside you. With a bated breath, he announces he’s going to come and you encourage him just as he did you. He spills into the condom with a whiney groan in submission to you, his movements coming to end an end shortly after he rides his climax out. 
He’s got his arms wrapped around your torso and you cradle him to your chest as you both try to catch your breaths. He lifts your hips slightly to let himself fall out of you, though he keeps you close to him after, looking up at you through a lazy smile. 
You return one to him, meeting your lips to his. The kiss is gentle and love worthy as your heart swells so much it feels like it could burst for the man beneath you. 
You pull away from him, “Can I take this skirt off now?” 
He chuckles before nodding, placing a kiss on your shoulder before you move off of him to discard the final article of clothing on your frame. You climb back into bed after you throw on a slinky tank top and use the bathroom—a UTI was not going to plague you. Jungkook pulls on a pair of briefs, opening his arms up to you once he climbs back in. You cuddle up right next to him, an arm slung around his bare chest, leg over his as he pulls you closer with one arm. The two you mindlessly talk about nothing before you feel yourself drifting off to sleep. The last thing you recall is Jungkook placing a kiss on your head, telling you that he loves you again, leaving little to no space between each other this time on the bed. 
The bright sun is what wakes you up the next morning, a strained mumble coming from you as you stretch out on the bed. You’re halfway on your back, halfway on your side when you open your eyes. You rub them with your knuckles to clear them of any matter. When the room fully focuses, you freeze in your position, stomach dropping a little bit. Your head hurts from the alcohol but it wasn’t enough alcohol to make you forget what happened. 
You and Jungkook had had sex and professed pining love to each other. 
You quickly turn over to find yourself alone in the bed, your anxiety and cortisol levels skyrocketing. You also take notice that Jungkook’s not out on the balcony that connects to the room. You sit up a little too quickly for your headache, taking a moment to steady yourself. 
You grab your phone off the nightstand, checking the time and any messages you have. There’s only a few that you decide you’ll answer later. Nothing from Jungkook. 
You push the sheets and duvet off your frame, hurrying over to your suitcase to pull on a pair of shorts. You quickly make your way out of the bedroom, finding the living and kitchen space empty. Maybe he was in the bathroom? 
“Jungkook?” You call out. No answer. 
You suddenly feel like you’re going to get sick. Insecurity and all other horrifying thoughts cross your brain. Did he leave you here? Did he get scared and go home? Did he really fuck you only to leave you? 
You feel like you could cry as you lean onto the couch for support. You hold back your tears, breathing heavily in and out to keep yourself calm. 
Where the fuck—
The door to the cottage is suddenly unlocked, pushing open to reveal your best friend in all his glory. He’s dressed in a t-shirt and sweatpants, carrying a brown bag in one hand, balancing two coffees on his arm. 
“Oh, good morning!” He flashes his million dollar smile at you as he sets down all of his belongings on the kitchen island. 
You stand there with a pout, not saying anything to him. He looks at you slightly confused, walking over to see what’s wrong. 
“Are you okay?” He asks with concern, grabbing gently behind your elbows. 
You push at his chest with flat palms, “I thought you left me,” you whine. A smile cracks open as he laughs some. 
“Why would I have left you?” He questions you, “I just went and got us some breakfast while you were still sleeping,” he explains. 
“Well I can see that now,” you push back, “I just thought.. maybe you got scared and left,” you trail off, looking away from him now that you feel a little dumb for jumping to such horrible conclusions. 
Jungkook pulls you in for a hug to which you return it like a kid grabbing onto their teddy bear tightly. 
“I would never do that Y/N,” he says placing a kiss to your head, squeezing you playfully as he sways you dramatically, “I’m kind of offended that you think I would,” he then says with a pinch to your ass cheek. 
“Ow!” You push yourself off of him with a laugh, “Sorry, it’s just,” you chew on your lip when you meet his gaze, “I don’t really know how to go about this whole friends to lovers thing.” 
He pulls you to the kitchen so you two can begin to eat your breakfast. The coffee is great; just what you needed to cure your headache. 
“It’s simple,” he says as he sits down beside you after he’s placed your breakfast sandwiches out. 
“Is it really?” You push through a mouthful of food—gross you know, but Jungkook was the last person to care. 
He quirks that pierced eyebrow at you that just drives you absolutely mad, “Hell yeah. We’re still best friends we’re just gonna have lots of sex now.” 
You look at him stunned before you both are laughing hysterically together. Maybe he is right. Simple. As the two of you eat your breakfast, you can’t help but feel so very happy but also so very sad. The two of you have created a bubble of paradise and it’s going to burst as soon as you get back on the plane to head back home. 
“Jungkook,” you say, turning the conversation serious after you both have finished your meals. He responds with a hm? “I’m still moving after the summer,” you bring it up hesitantly given how touchy it is; but there was no escaping and hiding from the truth. You were leaving; Jungkook was staying here. 
He tenses up in his seat, pursing his lips as he glances over at you, “That’s another reason Junghyun called me last night,” he begins. You look at him confused, asking what he means, “I’ve been thinking about telling you about my feelings for so long Y/N, and I clearly have shit timing,” he laughs ironically, “But Junghyun has known for awhile now—I think before I even knew it but um,” he pauses, “He made me promise to him that by the end of this trip that I would tell you, so he was on my ass about it last night.” 
You smile at him sweetly, resting your hand over his, “Well now you can tell him you kept that promise,” you offer. 
His gaze doesn’t quite meet yours, “Yeah, but that’s not all,” he pauses as you listen to him, “I’ve been applying to jobs in New York,” he admits. 
Your lips part as your eyes widen, “What?” You’re nearly breathless as you ask the question—feeling like Jungkook took a baseball bat to your chest. “Why would you do that?” You press. 
He swallows heavily, “I just, I knew whenever you said you were going there that I just couldn’t not try with you,” he pauses, his gaze looking almost apologetic, “I didn’t want to be four thousand miles away from you so I panicked and started applying for jobs there,” he explains, “I don’t want you to be mad, and I’ve already talked to my family about it and they’re all okay with it,” he says in a rush, “I just didn’t want you to be alone there, whether I confessed my feelings to you or not.” 
He’s chewing on his lip and you can tell he’s nervous. You turn over his palm so you can intertwine your fingers together, giving him a soft gaze. 
“While this has completely caught me off guard,” you say honestly, “I would never be mad at you over this,” you squeeze his hand for reassurance, “Did you really apply to jobs there because of me?” 
He nods a few times before he hangs his head low. You take your other hand and push his shorter fringe away from his face. While you’re positive many more details have to be worked out, that fact Jungkook made this decision makes you feel an amount of butterflies and love you’ve never experienced before. 
“And you’d for sure want to be in New York?” 
He looks up at you with those big doe-eyes that haven’t changed from the day you met him, “I’d go wherever you were Y/N. It could be the worst fucking place in world and I’d go there with you.” 
You lean over, pressing your lips to his gently. 
“I love you.” 
He smiles in return, “I love you more.” 
You pout some, “That’s not fair—no one is allowed to ‘love more’.” 
He kisses you again gently as he pulls you from the bar stool to stand between his legs. His hands squeeze your ass playfully as you try to pull away. 
“Well I can be the exception,” he leans into you, his arms wrapping around you protectively. You roll your eyes, a short laugh escaping your lips.
“You know what this means?” You ask inquisitively. 
“What?” 
“Lots of sex to be had,” you emphasis, “And even more of blowjobs.” 
His eyes widen, his jaw slightly clenching and you swear he whines as he looks up at you, pressing your front to his crotch, “Can we start that sooner than later?” 
You give him your answer through another kiss and moving your hands at the waistband of his pants. God, you think as you take in the already domesticated environment you two have made together, you could really get used to this. Jeon Jungkook was your best friend and at the end of the day—all you two needed was each other and somewhere to go.
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hannieehaee · 4 months
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hi good morning! (or afternoon or evening)
how about a svt scenario thing where you’re an idol (and dating them) and you get injured by a crazy saesang that’s obsessed with your s/o?
basically, y/n is an idol in a popular group and at a fansign event, a saesang rushes towards her and attacks her, injuring her with smth (there’s blood) and vroom hospital etc etc. how would svt react?
idk this has been my brain-worm for the past few days
thank you 😊 ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
a sasaeng attacking their idol!reader gf
content: mentions of stalking, mentions of being attacked, mentions of injuries, mentions of hospitalization, reader is an idol, a lil angsty, etc.
wc: 1559
a/n: thank u so much for ur request! sorry for the delay hehe (these scenarios are assuming ur relationship is public knowledge btw <3)
masterlist
seungcheol -
no one had ever seen him this angry. even his members kept away from him upon noticing his furious demeanor after getting a call from your manager informing him that you had been taken to the hospital to tend to some bruises and scratches you had undergone after one of his stalker fans had quite literally jumped at you from across the table, having made themselves pass as your fan. would not comment on it publicly, simply choosing to cut his promotions short and taking a quick break to tend to you. the only thing to alleviate his anger would be your presence and knowing that you were now safe. would demand both pledis and your own company enforce better security, incredibly frustrated that you even got a single scratch on you due to their negligence.
jeonghan -
not being one to hide his emotions from fans, he would express frustration at it, mentioning it on live when consistently questioned about it. would state his disappointment, but would make it clear this was directed at fans who knew their actions were morally wrong. he would probably not do much about it other than make sure your security amped up, not wanting to get in the way of your own idol career or draw more attention to this, but having your security as top priority. would put extra focus in babying you and tending to you at any and every moment he was off work.
joshua -
he'd be very emotionally affected by it. you'd be able to tell by his quieted down demeanor after the incident that he felt put off by any public appearance, thinking that anyone around him could be a crazed fan who wanted to inflict pain on his loved ones. would continue schedules as normal, but his personality would remain tame for a while, while he recovered emotionally from the guilt he felt at indirectly putting you in danger. he'd feel extremely apologetic towards you, even if you told him you were fine and did not blame him for any of it.
jun -
his lighthearted demeanor would shift immediately. he would take a hiatus, taking you with him to china so he could have you to himself for a month or so. would not care about any repercussions to his idol career, considering your safety the top priority. would become serious for a while, only bringing back his loving and playful personality when interacting with you or any of his other loved ones. would never speak about this publicly once he came back from break, simply acting as if nothing happened. he would've had to demand both your company and pledis amp up any and all security for you the moment you came back from your own hiatus.
soonyoung -
the usually lighthearted and silly boy would turn stoic for a while. he'd never express his frustrations outwardly, but would now feel a constant sense of disappointment at both himself and at any crazed fan who would ever dare even think of putting their hands on you. would be super apologetic to you, begging you to not end it because of this incident. the only thing that would calm him down would be your reassurance that it'd take far more than one obsessed fan to drive you away from him. would dedicate all his free time to you and take on a more protective attitude towards you.
wonwoo -
would probably go on a short hiatus. you were one of the most important people in his life. he had kept the relationship secret as much as he could, but after dispatch outed you two as a couple, you had begun to receive more threats than usual. now not only from your own stalker fans but from his too. would be absolutely devastated he was the cause of your pain. he could never leave you out of his sight again, feeling an innate need to protect you. would stay gone and just be with you for a few months before returning to his idol duties, never speaking publicly about what happened.
jihoon -
pure disgust and annoyance. the same way he calls out sasaengs on live for pestering him with calls, he would bring this up too. saying that he's tried to ignore it but that some things go too far. would feel bad if any other carats felt uncomfortable by his scolding, but would feel so incredibly frustrated the love of his life was put in danger due to someone liking him way too much for safety. scared you might feel like this is too much to deal with, but would respect if you decided the relationship was just not worth the pain. would thank you immensely the moment you told him he's worth all hurdles, that you simply needed better security.
seokmin -
it was rare to see seokmin angry, and he had never been this angry. fans would be able to tell after the incident that his demeanor had shifted completely. would take him about a week or so to go back to his bubbly self while in public, having gotten the scare of his life when he got a call from your manager claiming that an obsessed dk fan had launched at you at a fansign, makeshift weapon in hand as they managed to mangle some of the skin of your arm before being swiftly taken away by security. he wouldn't go on hiatus, but he'd spend every passing minute with you as he apologized and reassured you no one would ever hurt a hair off your head ever again.
mingyu -
would also go on a quick hiatus. he hates calling out crazed fans, knowing it only incites them to do deranged things like this even more, being aware that they'll do anything to get a reaction out of him. so he wouldn't give them one. he would simply step back from idol duties for a while, joining you in your own hiatus as you emotionally (and physically) recovered from the attack. would try and give you an out, telling you that if dating him put you in danger then maybe you should reconsider your options, he would always love you but he would understand. would feel instant relief the moment you cursed him out, telling him a few injuries were not enough to drive you away. he'd swear to never let you out of his sight again.
minghao -
another member who would be extremely angry. would do his best to stand by you and show his support towards you even if it meant putting your relationship even more into the public eye. you would be his one and only priority. he would bring it up at some point in an interview or statement, airing out his frustrations at sasaengs who thought of him as anything more than an idol. would put a brake on fan-idol interactions even more now, now even toning down most of his fanservice to avoid fans getting the wrong idea that he'd ever look their way when he had you.
seungkwan -
just absolutely terrified. he'd never felt more fear in his life than the moment his manager informed him of the news that you were in the hospital due to one of his stalker fans attacking you. would feel incredibly guilty and beg you for forgiveness as he visited you at the hospital. the only relief he felt at the situation would be your insistence in telling him you were fine and that this would not break your relationship. he'd become overly attached and protective of you, demanding his own company to provide security for you, claiming that this was a personal issue and that he would not rest unless you were as protected as possible.
vernon -
would be brooding and cold for a while. he would've dealt with the situation behind the scenes, not wanting anyone to see his reaction, knowing that acknowledging the situation publicly would only cause more crazed fans to try and do the same. he'd back away from the public for a while, only participating in any mandatory schedules and even then he would keep himself hidden in the back as much as possible. would feel a little guilty for technically punishing all fans when it was only a few who acted like this, but would need some time to recover from having put the love of his life in danger.
chan -
this was brand new territory for him, so he would feel absolutely taken by surprise. he never would have imagined someone to try and come after the love of his life, much less under the claim that it was for his own good. no words could describe the guilt he felt at seeing you at the hospital, scratches in your face showing the damage the fan was able to inflict before security pulled them away. would curse at your security team, claiming this couldve been way worse, and that they risked your life. would also apologize for his part in it, knowing that if he was out of the picture this never wouldve happened. would take a short break from idol activities to spend a week with you holed up at a safe location, spending the entire time showing you how much he cared for you and how he would protect you from now on.
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bangchansgirlsblog · 4 months
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another random idea.. Fem 9th member maknae reader who secretly smokes and gets caught by one of the boys who later snitches and tells chan. Reader and Chan fall out and she storms out of the dorms and ends up staying in her apartment instead to let off some steam. She realised how bad the smoking was for her health and how much it impacted her social life so she first to JYP and they send her to rehab + puts her on hiatus for two months because of rehab. Chan thinks it’s his fault for the hiatus as none of the members were told that she was going to rehab. They later find out and when Reader returns back from rehab/hiatus they all tell her how proud they are of her?
(sorry for the LONGGGG paragraph, i didn’t intend for it to be this long🧍‍♀️)
My biggest problem.
Okay maybe I got carried away a little and changed it a little but yeah forgive me 😜
Enjoy
-🩷
**
Y/n started smoking when she was 15.
She didn't know that she was eventually going to be a trainee the year after.
It was never part of her plan but when they scouted her when she was at the mall with her mum, it was a new chapter in her story and her mum begged for her to try it out. As her training days began and she tried to quit she found that she couldn’t go a day without smoking.
She was already addicted to it.
Her habit became stronger and stronger as the days got harder.
6 hours dance practice, 4 hours vocal and 2 hours media training. She found her self sneaking out for smokes during short breaks or before leaving the dorms for any type of schedule.
It sucked that she couldn't get out of it and it was affecting her.
At this point she didn’t even want to stop because if she did her body would fail.
**
1:45 pm, New York City.
"Alright people let's get started shall we?" The instructor walked onto the stage and stood at the edge waiting for everyone to get in place.
Y/n put her water bottle down and walked over to the group to get into her place so they could start practicing for the show that would happen the next day.
"Y/n and I.N I want more energy from the both of you please," Chan told the two maknae's. He was stood in the back analyzing everything to make sure it was on point.
The two nodded and stood ready to start. The sound of Charmer filled the whole stadium and their bodies started to move with the music. Their vocals being on point and their dancing being better than the last.
"What do you think?" The manager asked Chan. He was now stood down off stage looking at a different point of you. The rest of the band gasping for air.
"It was okay, I liked it but the lighting crew need to do better because I can barely see Felix in the back." He pointed and waved as he spoke. Trying to show the manager what he was imagining.
Y/n saw this as an opportunity to slip away for a bit for a short smoke break. She needed it. Her hands were shaking and her body couldn't really function due to the fuck she was going through withdrawals.
"Chan, may I use the washroom?" Her voice was timid but Chan was used to it and was able to hear her over his earpeaces.
"Yeah you can, five minutes yeah?" He replied. "Do you need one of the boys to come with you-"
"No no no it's fine," she replied fast, way to fast for Chan's liking.
"Okay," he squinted his eyes in suspicion but let it go.
She grabbed her bag and made her way through the different hallway. Making sure no one was in sight, she slipped through the backdoor to the back way alley.
It was quiet. No one was there and she was glad. She let go of the sign that lingered in her chest and pulled out the pack of cigs that laid neatly in her small pouch.
Her hands shook as she grabbed one cigarette and put it between her lips where she lit it and took a big puff.
Her body relaxed as the smoke filled her lungs. Her brain that was going hellfire was now calm and relaxed as well.
She thought she was safe when she reached for the second one. None of the boys had called her phone and it had been about 5 minutes.
"Just one more," she thought to herself.
"Y/n?" a voice called right by her ear causing her to jump and drop the pack of cigs.
"What are you doing?" She turned to look at Hyunjin who was visibly angry.
His eyebrows were furrowed and his lips were sealed tightly together.
"Hyunjin what are you doing here?" She asked as she got on her knees trying to collect the cigarettes that were now scattered all over.
"What do you mean what are you doing here? What are YOU doing here Y/n? And why are you smoking? Have you gone mad? Does Chan know about this?" He questioned standing there in shock.
"No,no Chan doesn't know about this and you're not telling him," Y/n hushed him trying to stop him from shouting and yelling.
"I think you've actually gone insane! Ofcourse I'm telling Chan,” he grabbed the cigarettes from Y/n's hand and threw them back to the ground where he stomped all over them.
"Inside. Now." He said through gritted teeth. Y/n was scared, it was visible. She grabbed her back and slowly made her way inside the venue. Her lips quivered.
"Hyunjin please don't tell Chan, please I'll do anything," she begged.
"I have to Y/n. I'm so disappointed in you. We trusted you and you do this?" His eyes couldn't meet hers. His body was tense as they walked backstage to the rooms in the back. The hallways gettin busier each second. The employees questioning why she was crying.
"Are you okay-"
"Yes she is please go along with your work," Hyunjin snapped at one of the ladies. Y/n looked up at him frightened because he was always nice to people, he never once raised his voice at an employee.
When they arrived in the room. The boys were sat on the couches or having lunch. Chan was texting on his phone when he looked up.
"Y/n? Why did you bathroom break take so long?" He laughed and looked at Hyunjin who wasn't smiling.
"I caught her smoking Chan, she reeks of cigarettes" her head fell and she looked at her new trainers that one of the companies had sent her for promotion. It looked so intriguing all of a sudden.
"You caught her what? Hyunjin your joking," Chan laughed, "please tell me your joking," he paused and looked at the serious Hyunjin.
"Tell him, tell him now." He slightly pushed her in front of him so they could be face to face.
"I-I can explain Chan,"
"No way Y/n please tell me you're joking," his voice became harsh. The boys all turned to Y/n. They were all shocked at this because she was the last person to ever do such a thing.
"What the fuck?" Changbin's voice sounded. "You've been smoking?"
"Only a little," her voice was small. Timid almost.
"Don't lie, please don't fucking lie right now Y/n." Chan says walking closer to the younger.
"Sit down, now." Leeknow says standing up and dropping his chopsticks.
"Your only 19, I get your all 'grown' BUT your still so young. You're an idol. An idol!" Chan's hand smashes against the table making her jump in her sit.
"Okay then if you think I'm an adult I should be able to smoke or drink or-"
"Are you out of your mind momo?" He snapped back at her, "Do you know what it does to you?"
"But Chan-"
"Quit Or I'll make you quit," was all Chan said before he stormed out the room leaving her with the boys who looked very disappointed.
"I get it, you don't have to look at me like I'm some monster," she wiped her tears with her sleeve to clean the tears that run down her cheeks.
"I just don't have words for you right now, your irresponsible, selfish and careless," Leeknow's words were harsh. So harsh that even Hyunjin cringed and felt bad.
"Then kick me out the band if it's such a big deal," was all she said before she got up and run out the room down the hallway past Chan who was standing by the doors while a manger tried to calm him down and out the stadium. It was cold and she had left all her stuff inside so she was forced to run down the busy streets of New York, freezing.
Chan following after her trying to figure out what was going on.
Her body was shaking from all the tears she cried.
But she continued to run.
She was able to disappear from Chan’s sight. Now Chan was really angry and worried. He'd lost his youngest in the busy streets of New York. She was new to the city and she was an idol. Anything could go wrong. Anything could go extremely wrong.
His heart was beating out of his chest. He grabbed his phone out of his picked rushing to call his manager then leeknow and the boys.
He found himself back in the changing rooms surrounded by everyone. Trying to calm him down.
"I'll go back to the hotel just in case she's back there," Felix assured Chan while he packed up his stuff.
"I'll come with you Lix," Hyunjin grabbed his bag aswell making sure to grab her stuff from the ground. He opened to make sure all her stuff was inside but the site wasn't pretty at all.
Underneath everything he saw 4 more packs of cigarettes causing him to gasp horrendously.
"What? What is it?" Bangchan's neck snapped to his direction. Hyunjin had no words so he just passed the bag to Chan who was now terrified.
"Is she addicted?" Was all he asked before handing the bag to leeknow who was curious aswell.
Chan's hands run through his hair as he was thinking of all the possible ways he could find her in the whole of New York City. He felt guilt. He felt like if he had maybe approached this in a nicer way they could have worked through it but now his anger was just blinding him.
"Okay, police were informed and we're about to go driving around to see if we can somehow spot her," their manager tells them (he was also panicking low key but he didn’t want them knowing) , "do you guys want to join?"
"I'll come with you," Leeknow says quickly.
His hands were shaking and he felt so much guilt aswell. If anything happened to Y/n it would be all his fault and he wouldn't forgive himself.
"Same Hyung," Han jumps in.
They all grabbed their bags and the three (Han, Leeknow and Chan) quickly rushed out right behind their manager.
The rest of the boys cleaned up and quickly left to go to the hotel hoping to find her there safe and sound.
It took 5 hours. 5 hours before Felix had decided to go to the cafe by the hotel to grab drinks for everyone and he had found her sat in a coffee shop, she was shivering and cold but Felix didn’t care because he was angry and Felix was never angry. Without hesitation, Felix dragged her out and back to the hotel even if she was kicking and screaming. He didn’t care. At all. He ignored her pleas and cries.
The lecture she got from Chan and all of them was hot and mean and ruthless but at the end of the day they gave her a choice to either quit or go to rehab but she chose to quit. She “promised” them.
After an hour of grilling her for answers she finally had admitted to everything that was going on and how she felt and how she was battling her own self.
Chan was beating himself up for not noticing and Leeknow was beating himself up for not being there for her.
She was so vulnerable. They all knew her secrets and her problems. She felt like a show everyone was just watching and waiting to break.
**
6:20, Japan
The first time the boys had noticed her odd behavior was starting up again, was when they had a sign meet and a concert right after. She hadn’t been able to go for a smoke in hours, her body was now trembling and she was sweating a lot. She could barely get through anything and nausea started to grow string in the pit of her stomach.
“Hey, you okay? You kinda look pale love,” Han was sat next to her getting his makeup done and so was she. He had notice she was fidgeting a lot in the chair. Her eyes were red too.
“Yeah just really tired,” she lied and gulped down thick saliva trying to get rid of the nausea but it completely failed.
“I think I’m going to be sick-“ she got up from the chair and run through the corridors to find the bathroom and once she did she through up, but it was good it was just mucus. Her head was thumping and her throat ached.
A hurried knock made her stand up and flush before she opened the door and collapsed in Han’s hands. He was worried for his younger and now he had to curry her to the rooms.
“Hey, stay with me okay? Don’t close your eyes,” he softly said while he blew air into her face to keep her cool.
When he had walked in and found leeknow sat on their changing room couch he let out a sigh of relief.
“Leeknow help me please! It’s Y/n,” he said panicked. Without hesitation leeknow stood up quickly and took her from Hans hands and put her on the couch to lay down.
Han had run down the corridor to get medics as leeknow woke her up from her faint state.
“Momo? Can you hear me? It’s leeknow,” a soft groan left her lips.
“Would you like some water?” She nodded her head and leeknow was on it. He got on one knee and started to feed her small sips of water.
“Tell me what hurts,” he softly said and played with her hair to calm her down.
“Everything,” she softly said and it aches Leeknow’s hurt.
Y/n knew the only way for her to get out of this state was to smoke but how?
“Leeknow, I- I need to use the bathroom,” she groaned and held her hand against her head.
“If you need to puke i’ll get you a bucket love,” he assured her. He didn’t want her waking and being left alone right now. He wouldn’t allow it.
“I need to pee,”
“Okay can you wait until the medics are here?” And right on cue the door opens and a frantic Han walks into the room with a few people behind him. Then Chan and Hyunjin walked in right behind.
“What happened Y/n?” Chan asked straight away and knelt beside her while he rubbed her hands.
“I don’t know Oppa, I was just not feeling the best,”
“You should have told me my love,” he softly said as he watched the medical team examine her.
“I thought it wasn’t this bad,”
“Now you see what it has done,” Hyunjin joint the conversation. “Look how tired you look, have you eaten anything all day?” He asked her.
“I had the lunch Changbin braught me,”
“So if we called Changbin right now he would agree?” Hyunjin furrowed his eyebrows and crossed his arms. Disappointed.
“No-“
“How bad is it?” Chan asked the man in uniform.
“Not bad, she’s just really dehydrated. We’ll fix an IV on her arm and she’ll be good to go, also may I speak to you outside in the corridor,” Leeknow looks at Chan worried and they exchanged the same expression before Chan head out with the guy.
“I need to pee really bad,” Y/n whines and complains.
“Okay you can go, I’ll come with you,” the lady medic says and slowly guides her to the bathroom. Y/n grabs her lighter and cig and started to smoke it. The feelings make her body slowly awaken and then gain energy. She smoked one more just incase and then washed her hands and made her way back to the last medic.
She was able to walk on her own but just to make it not look suspicious she held onto her and then finally she sat on the couch and got the iv in her arm.
Chan was back in the room and he was examining her. Trying to look for something and once it caught his eye he looked over at the rest of the boys nodding and they all just stare at eachother.
They knew. They knew she was smoking again and it hurt Chan for what was about to come was not going to be pretty.
**
10:55, south Korea
The paparazzi lights started to increase when She stood up in the podium. Her eyes were red and she had eyebags from the lack of sleep she was getting.
Her hands shook as she grabbed the microphone. The boys stood right behind her. Their head looking at the ground trying to avoid her shaking body.
"Goodmorning, my name is Y/n Y/l/n and I'm a member of strays kids. I didn't want this to happen. Trust me I didn't,"
She took a deep breath looking at the manager that were sat in the front raw. Judging her and giving her a disgusted look.
A sob Left her mouth and she put the microphone down. Trying to get herself together before she spoke again.
"To all the stays out there, I want to say I love you and I hope you guys can forgive me for this. I will be going on haitus for a while," the room is filled with gasps as the flashlights now increase even more.
"I pray that if I do come back I will be better and stronger for you guys and that I will make my group and team proud. Thank you for loving me and i hope to see you guys soon," she bowed before taking a step back and wiping her tears.
The boys all stood around her to hide her body from the camera. Han rubbing her back and whispering something in her ear.
She didn't care though, she was upset. She was so upset with herself but she still managed to blame the boys. Her reasoning? Because she felt like they were giving her up and sending her away.
**
"Alright, are you all packed?" Their manager stood outside her room.
"Yeah" she softly said rolling her bag out and handing it to the older man.
"Alright the boys are down stairs if you want to say bye, I'll be waiting in the car," he nodded and left her to close her room and head down the steps to her band mates.
They all looked upset, there was no lie there. There were all stood by the door giving her a sympathetic smile.
"I'm going to miss you," Chan steps up and pulls her into a hug. She didn't want it though. She shrugged it off and stood there looking at him with teary eyes.
"Chan please don't do this,"
"You know I want was best for you-"
"But Chan I'll change I promise just give me a chance,"
His eyes were soft and filled with tears. Guilt was eating him up. He so badly wanted not to send her away but he didn't have a choice.
"I'm sorry," the sound of a honk interrupts them and she knew it was time for her to go.
“I hate you,” she sobbed. That was the last thing she said to him and without looking back she left the dorms. Hoping that somehow she would make it out alive.
Breaking news, strays kids maknae Y/N Y/N/L and group manager in have been left in critical condition after a fatal car crash. Was it a set up?
**
I’m not doing a part two🙈
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foliosriot · 5 months
Text
Love’s The Death Of Peace Of Mind — Pt. 2
pairing: noah sebastian x reader
warnings: none, just kinda very short
tags: @malice-ov-mercy @measuredingold @crimson-calligraphyx @chels3a-smile @misspygmypie @veronicaphoenix @loverofagoodbeard @catj422
masterlist. tdopom masterlist.
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“Hello?”
“I’m fucking panicking.”
The line is silent for a few beats, and it has you worriedly thinking if Jolly just hung up on you. But then there’s a deep sigh that has you feeling momentary relief.
“Why, exactly, are you fucking panicking?” Jolly asks carefully.
“I texted Noah,” you tell him, nervously nibbling at the tip of your thumbnail.
“That’s good! I’m proud of you for finally communicating with him,” Jolly praises you.
“No, it’s not good, Jolly!” you fire back. Stress is eating away at you, anxiety bubbles violently in your stomach. “I have never felt such panic since Fall Out Boy’s hiatus after Folie à Deux!”
“Wow, okay. That’s … That’s a strangely niche reference I haven’t heard you talk about for a long time.” Jolly looses another sigh. “Okay, I’ll bite. What happened?”
“He told me he misses me.”
The line goes silent again. Your leg is bouncing as you sit atop one of the stools under your kitchen counter. Your phone is face-up on the counter on speaker, and you know Jolly hasn’t hung up because the call time is still ticking. But that still doesn’t calm your nerves by any means as you wait for his response.
It’s been two days since you texted Noah, two days since he replied, two days since Bad Omens released their third album THE DEATH OF PEACE OF MIND. You hadn’t known how to go about Noah’s response so you’d thrown yourself back in to work and whatever chores needed to be done around your apartment. Your resolve had finally cracked when you shamelessly listened to the record for the sixth time (at least you think it was the sixth listen).
As soon as Miracle had ended that last time, you immediately called Jolly. You didn’t know who else to talk to. And thankfully, Jolly knows both parties personally and is the one who had told you to text Noah in the first place, so it was simply logical, actually.
But that hadn’t made it any less aggravating to wait for him to answer the damn phone call.
Finally, Jolly says something, but it has you wishing he had just hung up on you.
“He does miss you.”
God, and isn’t that just fucking wonderful information? The single sentence brings tears to your eyes. You fold your arms on top of the counter then rest your cheek against them.
“Jolly, he—“
“Don’t say what I think you’re about to say.” Jolly’s voice is firm, and it almost feels like a parent scolding their child. You bite your tongue anyways. “You told me you were the one to stop texting in the first place. You said your feelings were all messed up and didn’t know how to talk to him about any of it. Don’t think that your decisions didn’t hurt him, because they did. Noah wanted to talk to you about what happened but you ignored his calls, right?”
You hate how well Jolly knows you. You say nothing.
“There’s so much of you in the album, it’s fucking crazy,” Jolly continues. “Noah misses you so much more than you think he does. He wanted to figure this shit out with you. But he ended up just compiling all of it into those songs because you couldn’t pick up the damn phone.”
Tears are spilling down your cheeks now. Jolly’s words hurt — god, they really fucking hurt. But he’s speaking with so much honesty and sincerity it makes you sick. Because yes, you were the one to ignore Noah’s calls and voicemails when you first started losing touch. You couldn’t deal with what you were feeling, nor could you express how you felt at the time. You don’t think you’d be able to now.
But you need to. All of these feelings and emotions have been festering inside of you for years and years. They were nearly overflowing the first time you and Noah were intimate, then they finally flooded every inch of your body the last time you spoke. You just didn’t care enough to acknowledge them.
However, as your vision is blurry with tears and you’re quietly sniffling, you know what you need to do.
“I miss him, Jolly,” you whisper in a broken voice, scared it won’t carry through the speaker. “I miss him so much.”
“Then talk to him,” Jolly says, gentler this time.
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
You squeeze your eyes shut tight, relenting only when you see fuzzy stars and nebulas accumulate beneath your eyelids. More tears slip down your face as you blink repeatedly.
“I’ve lost him once already. I don’t wanna do it again.”
“You haven’t lost Noah, trust me,” Jolly assures you. “To this day, he is still your best friend, whether you realize it or not.”
“What do I do, Jolly?” you ask timidly. You’re scared by his potential response, but you are already mentally writing down what you want to say after this phone call ends.
“Text or call him, and set up a time to meet,” Jolly suggests. “If you don’t, you’re gonna drive yourself insane. I mean, you’ll be our number one Spotify listener for the entire year, but let’s avoid that this time around, okay? I’d like to prevent that from happening for a bad reason.”
You chuckle a bit at Jolly’s antics. But you find yourself nodding, even though Jolly can’t see you. You push up off the countertop with a spark of something settling in your stomach.
“Okay, I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen,” you tell him. You sniffle then stay quiet for a short minute. “Thank you, Jolly. I’m sorry for dumping all of this onto you.”
“Don’t worry about it, dude,” he responds. It’s evident that he has a smile on his face just from the tone of his voice. “Let me know how it goes.”
“Yeah, for sure. Love you. Bye.”
“Love you.”
Jolly hangs up and you’re left in the quiet of your apartment.
Now, after having talked to your older brother figure — who made you cry, that fucking asshole — you feel a sliver of determination embedding itself into your ribcage. You can feel it burrowing into the bone and marrow, slowly spreading across your entire skeleton. It infects your organs and veins and bloodstream, until it’s all you feel.
You wipe away any tears that had fallen in the past couple minutes. Your skin is hot beneath your fingers and you can your pulse in your palms. But you ignore the heat radiating off of you as you open your phone with shaky hands.
A moment later, Noah’s contact is staring at you. You’re hesitant to open your shared text thread and ask if he wants to meet up and talk. But Jolly’s encouragement echoes from every corner of your skull, each word reverberating into the tissue of your brain until it is the only thing you can remotely think about.
Then you’re typing and sending off your message before you can think twice about it.
You gingerly set your phone back down on the counter. Deja vu ripples through you, a scene in your bedroom playing in your head from just a few days ago.
But you shove that memory away as you stand up from the stool. The leg that had been bouncing hurts a bit from constantly jittering, but you ignore the ache as you begin your way to your room. You purposefully leave your phone behind.
After gathering clean clothes and a clean towel for your shower, you head back into the kitchen to retrieve your cellphone. And you see there’s a new text notification present on the screen — one from Noah.
Your heart nearly stops at his reply. You aren’t sure what you should be feeling right now. But he definitely did just say he wants to see you.
You’re shaking uncontrollably as you read the text over and over. It’s almost like you’re waiting for Noah to say this was a joke, that he never wants to see you again for as long as he lives. But it never comes as you continue staring at it.
Noah wants to see you.
Noah wants to talk to you.
Noah wants to—
Meet tomorrow night?!
You must have read that last part wrong. You read through the text several more times to make sure you didn’t misread anything or mistook what he meant. Because Noah asked if tomorrow night at your place works. At 7:00pm.
You almost decline, saying that you picked up another shift from work at that time. And you’re about to begin typing out that gentle rejection when Jolly suddenly texts you.
Jolly🎸☀️: Noah just ran in to the living room telling me you texted him. Fucking smiley bastard. Just know that I’m very proud of you for doing this!
Well, shit. Now you have to accept the meet time.
So you do, standing in the middle of your cramped hallway with anxiety on the verge of spilling out of your mouth. You swallow harshly, choking back the bitter taste as you’re typing out your answer to Noah.
But you can’t help feeling hopeful. It almost overpowers the anxious tugging in your belly. And you let it remain confined inside of you as you take your shower, letting each and every possible scenario for tomorrow night play in your head.
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thank you for reading! hope you enjoyed! likes and reblogs are very much appreciated <3
a/n: let me know if you want to be tagged when i post pt 3!!
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eyeheartboobiez · 6 months
Text
-> 𝖽𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝗒𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗑 𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋
-> 𝗌𝗈𝖼𝗂𝖺𝗅 𝗆𝖾𝖽𝗂𝖺 𝖺𝗎!
-> 𝗋𝖾𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍: 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗂𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗂𝗋𝖾 (𝗈𝗋 𝖻𝗂𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗂𝗋𝖾 𝖨 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗋𝗂𝖼𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖶𝖺𝗒𝗇𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 ) 𝖾𝗅𝖽𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗈𝖿 𝖡𝗋𝗎𝖼𝖾 𝖶𝖺𝗒𝗇𝖾 𝖽𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗀, 𝗍𝖺𝗅𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗎𝖼𝖼𝖾𝗌𝗌𝖿𝗎𝗅 𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌, 𝗉𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾.
-> 𝗂 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗇🫶🏿
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Gotham royalty, Dick Grayson, caught with actress Y/N Y/LN behind the scenes of upcoming movie (3/5/2023 1:52 PM)
For months now, fans have been questioning the mysterious relationship between Dick Grayson and Hollywood’s favorite star, Y/N Y/LN. While this may come as a surprise to some, for most of us, it was kind of expected.
Just this morning, the two were seen outside of the actress's trailer on the set of her upcoming movie. The young actress, most notable for her acclaimed EGOT status, is using the feature film to officially bring and end to her acting hiatus.
For a little over three years now, Y/N has practically shut herself out from the public eye, wanting to take care of personal matters in her life. Insiders report that regardless of her "mysterious health condition", she's back and better than ever!
And of course, despite most of the filming taking place in the heart of New York, the gothamite had no trouble traveling to to visit her on set. Paparazzi spotted the apparent couple looking closer than usual just as Dick was seen leaving her trailer.
Throughout the years, both celebrities have been stuck in the classic "will they, won't they" situationship. We can easily take a quick look at the history of the two when they were introduced to each other through their mutual friend, Kori Anders.
Kori, who also happens to be co-starring in the same film as Y/LN, has noted in the past how much she would love for both friends to get together, saying that:
"I know most people usually don't want their besties to date each other, but I actually wouldn't mind. Dick is a good guy, and he's the kind of guy that Y/N could really use right now..."
On the other hand, Y/N has made it clear in the past that she's not looking for a relationship, wanting to focus on her son, Jonathan, instead. After getting pregnant by her ex (who ended up cheating on her, ouch!), the actress tried to keep her life as private as possible.
Dick, on the other hand, absolutely adores Y/N and her son! Over the course of their decade long friendship, the billionaire has proven to be a prominent figure in the child's life. Even this past March, the eldest Wayne flew both the mother and her little five year old out of the country to vacation with him in Italy.
Even though the celebs constantly try to deny any dating rumors, the proof is in the pudding now! No matter how much they try to defend their so called "friendship", we can't help but love the way they love.
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suggested for you!
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liked by @rred_hood, @wildwallywest, and 3,318,045 others
@bigdickgrayson: Welp I guess the secret's out. These past few years have been some of the best years of my life all thanks to the little family I get to call my own. After getting married, I get to call myself a dad to not only my son Johnny, but to my beautiful baby girl Mari as well. Of course, while Johnathan may not be mine by blood, I still love him and his sister as my own. After practically raising him alongside my beautiful wife, there's nothing else I would see him as. These people here are the light of my life and I am forever greatful for it. Love you Y/NN❤️
View all 14,045 comments
user1: THERE'S TWO???
⤷ user2: no actually since when was there a second one🧍‍♀️
user3: ahh the babies are too cute!!
user4: he's not a step father he's the father that stepped UP
@y/nofficial: 🩵
⤷ @bigdickgayson: 💙
⤷ user5: CRWING SCREAMING SOBBING
⤷ user6: when is it my turn bro PLEASE
user7: congra😭tula😭tions😭😭
user8: my royal family fr🫶
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liked by @spacedoutkori and 3,289,260 others
@y/nofficial: my lil yeah <3
View all 13,819 comments
user1: fym "lil yeah" girl yall are MARRIED
user2: WAR IS OVERRR
user3: im so happy for you mamas <3
user4: i like how dick wrote a whole essay while miss girl is out here giving us scraps😭
⤷ user5: bro she will NAWT hesitate to deactivate her entire account go get a straw and suck it up abeg
user6: still can't wrap my head around the fact that she hid a whole ass baby right under our noses💀
@bigdickgrayson: 💙
⤷ @y/nofficial: 🩵
⤷ user7: somebody catchme.... imma pass out..
user8: the true people's princess🥹
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notice how i used e news for dick and tmz for jason because it matches their color scheme👀 also ty abby for giving me the idea to give them two kids instead of one ily foreva and eva
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