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#14 years and 8 months apart
darks1gns · 2 years
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@mobages EDEN HIIHIII LOOK i made a few drawings #swag
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clamorybus · 27 days
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we got bacl from grammie's wake. it was surprisingly pleasant despite how sad we were
#i gotta hand it to the funeral home--she really looked like she was asleep#mickey.txt#despite well. the occasion#it was a surprisingly pleasant get together#a lot of her old coworkers from when she worked at the supermarket were there#and i got to see my stepcousins i haven't seen since before covid#and it took my niece about an hour to get fidgety and antsy#which is an impressive for an 8 year old tbh#it was funny after awhile whenever the mood got really low my mom was like 'okay kid--do a cartwheel'#because my niece LOVES cartwheels and there was so much space for cartwheels#it was fun lol#just what grammie loved honestly; everyone sitting and shooting the shit#and the grandbaby/ies being cute#ngl everytime my niece did a cartwheel or jiggled the fidget toy i lent her#i had an instinctual gut reaction of 'SHH NOOO YOU'RE GONNA WAKE UP GRAMMIE'#i miss her already. i never got to bond with her the way i would've liked to#but she was a lovely grandma. the type that always fussed over everyone#'did you want anything sweetie?' 'jen you want help in the kitchen?' 'want me to do anything?' type of grandma lol#she was a worry wort but very sweet. growing up she always sewed us coats and dresses and blankets#she taught me how to knit; like 80% of my knitting stuff used to be hers#she gave me a whole carpet bag of knitting gear and yarn when i was like 14/15#she taught me card tricks when i was kid. she used loved brushing my hair but she used#her old lady metal brush that hurt lol#she used to take us to the library#and she used to take us to the movies a lot as kids but she'd take us to a convenience store first to buy our candy#and as kids we thought that was the coolest most badass thing in the world#growing up we used to spend a weekend at her house once every few months#and on sundays she'd take us to her mom's apartment to organize her pills and stuff#idk. im glad she was in my life but i miss her already. at least now she's with her mom and brother 💕
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shotmrmiller · 5 months
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I'm your only situationship.
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A/N : yall i stayed up til 324 am writing this. I felt like if i went to bed still only having it as a thought and not on 'paper' thats unacceptable. If i gotta think about this then so do yall! it was also supposed to be a small one shot but it got wildly out of hand im not sorry.
18+ MDNI
TW: typical smut, EXPLICIT mmkay im talkin clutch ur pearls explicit.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
Simon had finally come home from a grueling 6-month mission. All he wanted was some Kentucky bourbon with you at your favorite seedy bar. 
Once he was home, Simon cleaned up, put on a black clinical mask, and sent a text to you to meet him there. As he finished his first glass of the night, a rather attractive young woman approached him, asking if she could buy him a drink. 
“Isn’t it supposed to be the other way around, lovie?”
“Not at all. This is after all the 21st century. I’m simply asking— wouldn’t want any missus at home getting upset.”
“There’s no one at home for me, lass.”
“Well then, how about you get yourself another glass, my treat, and we’ll see where this night takes us?” 
He slightly nodded —he’d never say no to a free drink— and as she left to order a drink, he took his phone out to text you again.
“C’mon, pet. I’ll cover the tab. Too good f’me, now?”
His phone vibrated a minute later.
“I can’t today, Si.”
“Why not? I know you don’t go out on Sundays.”
As the young woman came back, drinks in hand, he lifted the screen to read your response.
“I’ve got a dick appointment~ It’s been a year and then some and I’m gonna claw at my walls if I don’t get a fix ASAP.”
Simon goes tense— soft blues hardening to a silver and he’s gripping his phone so hard it might crack. He pulls up your contact and calls you within seconds.
“Hiya, Si!” 
“What the fuck is a dick appointment?”
“Oh,” you giggle. “I forget you older folk don’t know ‘bout that. It’s just a one-night fling. No commitments or nothin'.’ Exactly what I need right now.” You don’t tell him that the reason you’ve practically regrown your hymen is that when you’re best friends with Simon, every other male in existence pales in comparison. 
“Anyway Si-, he’s getting here in like an hour-”
“No.” And hangs up. 
The young woman who’s casually rubbing his bicep and shoulder gets practically flung off of him, as he gets up off the bar stool so fast it’s falling back with a loud clang, and he’s yanking his leather jacket on and pulling on his leather gloves so hard they’re about to become fingerless—
“Hey! I thought you didn’t have a girlfriend?!”
One gloved hand gripping the front door, he turns his head slightly to her and says, “Pet, with how good I’m gonna fuck her, she won’t even have to ask to know she’s mine.”
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
You’re standing in the bathroom with your liquid eyeliner in one hand and phone in the other, staring at the ended call screen. ‘Weird,’ you think, then shrug and put the phone down. ‘Maybe the call got dropped.’
You finally complete the look with your false lashes when there’s a very hard knock on your door. You frown as you look at your phone screen. ‘7:14 pm’. You know the guy said at 8 and you’re in one of Simon’s big shirts he always forgets and your hair is still tied up in an oversized pink and white polka dot scrunchie— The pink leopard print booty shorts you’ve got on will suffice. 
The second time there’s a knock it’s even louder. 
“Jesus Christ, I’m coming!” 
You open the door and say, “I’m sorry I took so long, I—”
Simon flies past you, with a rough shoulder bump and you turn to look at him and he’s almost sprinting to the bedroom, slamming the door open—
“Simon, what the fuck? What’re you doin—”
“Where is he?”, he snarls.
“Who?! Are you talking about my date? He’s not getting here til 8! And why’re you slamming doors in my apartment like you pay my rent?!”
You see Simon deflate immediately at the important part of your answer and chooses to ignore the rest as he takes off his jacket and walks to your hall closet to hang it. Closing your door and locking it, you growl out,
“You need to leave. I haven’t even finished getting ready. I promise I’ll—”
“No, pet.”
“Will you quit interrupting me! Simon, I swear—”
“Pet.” 
You’re holding a scream behind your teeth, about to rip the hair out of your scalp when you see Simon take one loop of his mask off from around his ear and then the other. You gape. You’ve seen Simon without his mask— that isn’t the reason you can no longer find your voice. It’s the way he put his gloved middle finger in between his teeth and pulled it off so sensually. You can feel your cheeks and ears radiate heat from just seeing the tip of his pink tongue. Christ, you’re down horrendously.
You open your mouth to say something, anything, to distract yourself from the fact that you’re getting wet over an interaction so chaste when Simon is touching your ass, giving it a hard squeeze, before moving down to the back of your thighs and lifting you up. You startle at the movement and throw your arms around his neck out of habit, hoping he won’t drop you in the move to your bedroom.
He presses you against the wall with his hips, then grabs both of your ankles from behind his lower back and hooks the back of your knees over his forearms. Simon noses your jaw and starts grinding his clothed erection deliciously hard over the definitely wet spot on your shorts and growls out, 
“If you think,” grind “that I’m gonna allow My,” grind “Girl,”  grind—and you whimper in his ear,  “get fucked by some little cock two pump chump,” he gives a forced chuckle, “you must be daft, pet. Or maybe you’re doing it on purpose, eh? Trying to get my attention? Well, you’ve got it now. “ 
He moves his face to hover his lips over yours— you can lightly smell the bourbon he drank earlier— and he whispers, “You ever like this and I’m around, you come to me. And if I’m away, you wait for me like a good girl and when I come back I’ll give this,” he taps your pussy over your shorts, “greedy little cunt all the cock it can take.”
With a shaky breath, you nod before he kisses you, his bourbon-flavored tongue curling against yours, and you’re moaning into it because you’ve wanted this for too long and he’s finally touching you. Curling your fingers into his ash-brown hair, you move your mouth to his neck, to the right of his adam’s apple, took a bit of skin between your teeth and sucked. 
Simon hisses, dips his fingertips into your flesh hard enough to bruise, and all but yanks you off the wall to toss you onto your bed. 
You yelp as you bounce from the force of his throw— you’re still bouncing on the bed when Simon grabs the waistband of your shorts and knickers to pull right off, which you’re grateful for because the grey knickers you got on aren’t what anyone would wear for a first, second nor third impression.
Simon grabs both of the back of your knees with one hand,  goddamn bear paws, you think, before you feel his tongue in between your lips— so warm and wet and fuck, you needed this, needed him— and he flicks his tongue up and down on your clit. He sticks his long middle finger into you and it goes in without resistance, you’re slippery, drooling over his wrist and finger that’s curled up into the rough patch of nerves against your gummy walls, that he’s pressing into, over and over. God you’re about to come, your legs shake in his one-handed hold and you’ve got a white knuckle grip on the forearm you’re sinking your nails into—
Simon pulls away. You were so close, your eyes start watering because he can’t possibly be this mean to you but then you see him shove his tongue in between his middle and ring finger, eating up your nectar when he says, “The first time I’m gonna make you come, it’ll be on my cock. I want to see the frothy white cream you're gonna leave at the base.” 
You’re nodding hysterically at this point, anything for him to make you come, anything for him.  With a twirl of his index, he’s telling you to get on all fours. Scrambling, you turn over and arch your back— resting your head on your forearms— and you feel his calloused palms run down from your spine to your ass cheeks before he gives it a spank. 
“You have a condom?” 
You shake your head and you mewl out, “No, but I’m clean.”
“Good. I don’t want anything between us.”
You arch your back further, pressing your ass further into his hips when you hear his belt buckle clank and zipper open. Simon brings his palm to your other cheek, reddening it. 
“Fuckin’ hell, pet. Look at you spread out for me.” 
You feel warm velvet over steel over your slit before he slowly pushes inside, not all the way but about a little over half of his length, remembering that your g-spot is a little closer to the front. Fast, relatively shallow thrusts hitting your spot with almost clinical precision have you reeling, your orgasm about to break you, mind and body. Hands tightening painfully, you shatter— loud, high-pitched whines, ringing in your ears and pussy pulsing around Simon’s thick girth— and god, Simon doesn’t stop thrusting. He keeps the same smooth rhythm and you’d think he’s unaffected by the tight vice your pussy has him in— but you hear him, low, deep groans and a tighter grip on your hips telling you otherwise. 
He pulls out to bend over your back, completely covering it, and he murmurs in your ear, “I hope you didn’t think we were done. My girl wanted a fuckin’, now she’s gonna get it.” 
He takes off your pink, silly scrunchy and you see it around his tattooed wrist before he grabs your hair into a makeshift ponytail and is leaning back up and forcing your back to arch under his pull. You feel his leg at the height of your hips— propped up, foot flat on the bed and knee bent and the other straight on the floor and all you can think of is how this man is gonna kill you with his cock. 
Simon snaps his hips forward, fist full of hair pulling back,  stretching and filling in one strong thrust, bottoming out. He gives you no reprieve, no time to get used to how fucking deep he is, and sets an intense, firm pace that has you feeling a pinch below the navel every time his hip bones slap against your ass, balls to the clit and you love it. Every pinch in your lower belly has your pussy making a squelching sound and you can’t help yourself— you reach underneath your body to feel how split open you are with two fingers, encasing his cock and feeling the skin drag with them as he pulls out.
That has him hissing air between his teeth, he’s about to come but doesn't want it to be over so he pulls out, and opens your cheeks to spit in your furled hole, before pressing in with the pad of his thumb, and you’re almost screaming. He moves back a bit further to spit in your pussy, not that you need it— you’re drenching the sheets underneath you— and now he’s spearing you with his tongue before curling it, getting your juices pooled on it before coming back up, lips smacking, and he grabs your hair in his ponytail and now he uses his other hand to curls his fingers and palm over the front of your throat and that's all it takes for your vision to darken and arms go limp but he’s again, fucking you through your orgasm and this time you leave a creamy white ring at the base of his length. 
“Oh, fuckin hell.” He groans out and it sounds desperate and you know he’s close.
“Come in me, Simon. Please fill me up, I promise I’ll keep it all in.”
He gives a strained chuckle and says, “Pet, I can barely pull out of a driveway much less this tight little cunt.” He squeezes your throat hard, strands of hair popping out of your scalp and his cock feels massive, the pinch in your stomach feels like a cramp from how deep he is and he lets out a low drawn out moan that lasts 3 thrusts— and then there’s warmth filling you up, so much so it leaks from the sides of where you two are connected. Simon lets go of your hair and you fall face-first onto the bed, exhausted. Defeated. Back properly broken. You officially know what it’s like to get fucked within an inch of your life and you love it. 
He pulls out slowly, with a hiss from both of you and with one hand on your left cheek, he spreads you to look at your stuffed hole.
“Fuck. I love seeing me drip out of you.” 
You’re about to tell him to sod off when the doorbell rings and the both of you stiffen and lock eyes. With a mean snarl, Simon grabs a towel from your bathroom and his mask before stomping his way to answer the door, pink obnoxious scrunchy still on his wrist.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
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azsazz · 2 months
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Midnight Muse (Epilogue)
Azriel x Reader [Art School AU]
Summary: You and your best friend Feyre have just moved into a new apartment for your sophomore year of college at art school. What you didn't know when you signed the lease is that you'd be living next to three rowdy boys.
Warnings: None
Word Count: 2,783
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13] [Part 14] [Part 15] [Part 16] [Part 17] [Part 18] [Part 19] [Part 20] [Part 21] [Part 22] [Part 23] [Part 24] [Part 25] [Masterlist]
Notes: The end of an era 😭😭 Holy smokes I'm so happy and also sad I cannot believe it's over.
_________________________________________
**Seven Months Later**
“Azriel,” you sing-song, bursting in through the open front door to their house. 
At the end of the spring semester Azriel’s father had bought 3rd Street apartments, and none of you had renewed your leases. His father hadn’t even tried to convince him to stay, but that didn’t matter to Azriel. The only thing that any of the five of you seemed to care about was that you’d no longer be living next to each other come summer.
Azriel, Rhysand, and Cassian had found a house to rent on the outskirts of campus. Of course, the place is gorgeous, a modern number that looks like it costs more than Rhysand is making it out to be. He’d been adamant about the three of them staying together, no matter what, and he’d tried to convince you and Feyre to move into another apartment nearby, but it wasn’t the right fit for either of you. 
You wanted something more homey than the new building, something walkable since you nor Feyre have cars. You already miss your old apartment dearly, saddened by what Azriel’s father is going to make it into. Sure, the elevator was a death trap that stuck, and sure, the walls were thinner than paper, but it was home, where you’d found love with your grumpy next door neighbor, though you’re sure in Azriel’s version of the story you were the grumpy one. 
The five of you had spent your last night at the building together, drinking and eating your heart content in waffles and ice cream from Rita’s. It was the perfect last night to end your time in the building, but also the semester. You passed your Drawing 101 final with flying colors, the half swan portrait you drew was something you’d never thought you’d be able to finish. Now, it’s one of your most treasured artworks. 
You’d chosen the swan because of their representation of the awakening of the power of self and self-esteem. When you’d started the semester you’d been unsure of your ability in the creative world, but after hearing the stories of so many around you, Azriel’s included, it awakened your inner artist, and your work only grows more confident by the day.
You’d also chosen to morph yourself with the swan because of their grace. Grace in dealing with others; Azriel’s gnarly attitude, Cassian’s cheekiness, Rhysand’s cockiness, Lucien’s snark, and Feyre’s hidden relationship, which didn’t last long, but still hurt your friendship.
You’ve come a long way since then, and are now in love with the neighbor that had been a thorn in your side for months. Azriel is as sweet as ever now, though he still distracts you from your work these days, but it’s no longer with rowdy music.
You turn towards the living room where you hear Azriel calling your name. You come to a screeching half at the sight of him and Cassian, chests bare as they carry a couch between them, moving further into the room. 
Your eyes zero in on Azriel, his tan chest glistening with effort. It’s move in day for them and they’ve been carrying boxes from 3rd Street apartments all morning. He looks godly in the light spilling in through the large glass windows overlooking the yard. The parties at this place are going to be insane this year, of that you know. It’s all Cassian has talked about since they’d signed the lease, commenting how their housewarming party is going to rival that of Project X. 
“Hey, princess,” Azriel winks at your wandering eyes and you can only beam. So what if he’s caught you admiring his chiseled torso? He’s all yours and you can stare if you please. Although, the sudden dampness between your legs has you shifting on your feet, Azriel’s smirk widening. 
“Can you two stop eye-fucking for one minute?” Cassian groans dramatically, acting like he’s struggling under the weight of the couch. You and Azriel both roll your eyes at the same time, which makes you burst into giggles. “This thing is fucking heavy.” 
“All right, let’s put it over here,” Azriel directs, guiding them a few more feet into the room. They place it in front of the giant TV Rhysand splurged one, and you know movie nights are going to be great in here. It’ll be just like you’re at a movie theater, without all of the extra bodies. 
You and Azriel still have yet to break in the couch, often choosing the privacy of his bedroom (as much as the thin walls give you) over the common rooms he shares with his roommates.
Speaking of, there’s a thump coming from upstairs and the sound of Feyre’s laughter drifting down the staircase. So maybe this new house isn’t that much more private than your old apartment.
As soon as he puts his end of the couch down you’re flinging yourself into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck. Azriel laughs and swings you around before planting your feet back on the ground and leaning over to kiss you silly. 
The flooding warmth throughout your body only intensifies as he steps closer, pressing his body into yours and rolling his hips a little, allowing you to feel his interested cock in his pants. 
“Hi,” you grin when you part.
Azriel’s gold eyes glitter with amusement. “Hi, princess. How is your morning?” 
Your hands snake down his chest, brushing over his nipples as you go. You don’t miss his reaction to your touch and it makes you giddy all over again. Hooking your fingers into the waistband of his pants, your smile turns sultry, watching his eyes darken. “Much better now.” 
“Is that so?” Azriel quirks an eyebrow. He looks like he’s two seconds away from dragging you upstairs to his new room and breaking it in. You wouldn’t mind that one bit. “Do I want to know why you’re this cheery this early in the morning?”
“You already know,” you beam, rolling onto the tips of your toes to kiss him on the nose. When you try to pull away Azriel growls, tightening his grip on you. 
“You can’t say that and not want me to fuck you, princess,” he says roughly, leaning down to whisper in your ear. His breath is hot across the shell and you shudder in his arms, eyelashes fluttering at his words. You have to swallow back the moan threatening to escape.
You startle at the sound of a loud crash, turning to see Cassian all but glaring at the two of you, having just dropped a box of books to the ground purposefully. 
“I thought we were supposed to be moving,” Cassian tosses over his shoulder and yells up the stairs, “I can’t have both roommates fucking already. There’s still so much shit to move!”
“I’m coming,” Rhysand yells back and you crinkle your nose.
“Ew.” 
It makes Cassian crack, a smile twitching at his lips. He has his hands on his hips and is still staring at you and Azriel in a false stern manner. “I knew I made a good decision to befriend you, (Y/N).”
“More like forced yourself into my life,” you grumble playfully, following him out to his Bronco, stuffed full with boxes.
“Just for that, I’m giving you a heavy box,” he teases right back, but he wasn’t kidding because your breath is nearly knocked from your chest when he hands you one. It’s falsely labeled ‘Az’s room’ on it because it feels like there’s a pile of bricks in it. 
Azriel glares at his roommate as he rids you of the heavy box. You give him a smile in thanks, sneakily sliding out a box labeled ‘couch pillows’ instead. It takes you back to the day that you and Feyre moved into your last apartment, how the living room box had been the last one you’d brought inside before your very first—and terrible—run in with Azriel.
The smile you wander inside with is a nostalgic one.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•
“Are you ready?” 
“Yes!”
“Then why are you acting like I’ve already put the needle to your skin?” Azriel argues, sitting back in his chair.
You’re laid up on the table, shirt pulled up to your neck, waiting for Azriel to put the tattoo gun to your skin. You keep squirming, not quite comfortable on the cold table top, but it’s the best he can do while he’s still waiting to hear back about his apprenticeship he interviewed for last week. It’s been a few long, grueling days, and you thought you’d distract him by finally allowing him to give you your first tattoo. It had taken you months to decide, and Azriel hadn’t pushed you once about the matter, no matter how badly he’d wanted to put ink on your skin.
Now, the sound of the gun is making you rethink your decision.
You sigh loudly and Azriel shuts the gun off, placing it on the table. He rips the gloves from his hands and helps you sit up, guiding your shirt back into place.
“Maybe we should wait,” he suggests softly, though you can see the hurt in his eyes.
It’s not that you don’t trust him. No, you trust Azriel with your life. It’s that you’re overthinking the design you’d thought you wanted so badly. 
“I want one,” you huff, sadly, “But I don’t think this is the one.”
Azriel soothes his hands up your thighs. “That’s okay, princess. There’s no rush. You don’t even have to get one, if you don’t want to.” 
“I do,” you whine in frustration. You had it planned for weeks, this idea, and now…you just can’t go through with it. It doesn’t feel right. 
You slide off of the table into Azriel’s lap, resting your head against his chest as he holds you tight. You let the soothing beat of his heart calm you down, the running of his hands up and down your back a relaxing gesture. It makes your heart swell, with the amount of love that you have for him. 
Azriel brushes some hair away from your face when you pull back. He’s studying you with those intense golden eyes you’ve come to adore. You can read everything in those eyes; his annoyance, his happiness, his anger, his lust, even his feelings for you, but right now, you’re not all too confident in what he’s thinking.
“I want to show you something,” he murmurs softly and you frown.
“Okay,” you answer tentatively, but his hand is sure in yours as he laces your fingers together after helping you off his lap. 
He guides you up the stairs and into his room.
“Azriel,” you tease, “I already know this room too well,” you say, alluding to his first night in the house where he fucked you over every surface in his room. It was pure bliss, one of the best nights you’ve shared.
Azriel puffs a breathy laugh and guides you to sit on the edge of his bed. You follow his instructions with obedience, covering your eyes when he tells you.
He waves a hand in front of your face to make sure you’re not looking. “How many fingers am I holding up?”
“Um,” your lips turn into the cutest pout when you think. “Two?”
He’s holding up none but he grumbles. “I was thinking two.” 
You bounce giddily on the edge of his bed and his cock twitches as he thinks of you bouncing on his cock just like that. 
“Easy, princess.” 
You stop your bouncing but not your grinning.
Azriel strides over to his closet, pulling out the canvas he’s been working on, when you aren’t around, of course. Well, he only dares pull it out around you when you’re fast asleep in his bed. It’s consumed him day and night, and finally, his masterpiece is finished.
“What is it?” you ask giddily, unable to rein in your excitement or the butterflies in your stomach.
You hear Azriel’s laughter as he moves closer. “If I told you, that would defeat the whole purpose of me asking you to close your eyes, princess,” he tuts and you swear you can hear him rolling his eyes. “But you can open them now, Miss Impatient.”
“That’s my middle name—” your words stick to your throat as you stare at the canvas he’s holding in front of you. 
You’re in awe, struck by the lines so confidently drawn. You’re transported back to the night of his exhibition, when he’d shown you the blackest parts of his soul, put on canvas. 
Similarly to the centerpiece of the show, the charcoal drawing he has in front of you are two hands intertwined. His, with his rough scars, clutching tightly to a flawless hand, a feminine hand. 
Your hand. 
Azriel shifts nervously on his feet. All you’re doing is staring, open-mouthed, and he’d normally take that as a good sign, but when tears well your eyes his heart pinches in his chest.
“It’s,” you choke, pressing a hand to your aching heart. “It’s so beautiful, Azriel.”
He breathes out a sigh of relief, only managing to move the canvas out of the way when you launch yourself into his arms, sobbing into his chest. He leans it against the edge of his bed and tucks you tightly into his arms, pressing soft kisses to your forehead. 
“Shhh, princess. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you cry.” 
“I’m crying because it’s perfect,” you pull away and he’s wiping softly at your cheeks. Your eyes are red-rimmed and he hates that but he loves the way it makes your eyes pop. He studies them for a little longer, committing it to memory, something to sketch for later. “You’re perfect. And I—I love you.” 
His attention snaps onto your words, holding onto them like they could slip away like a shadow. You haven’t said that before, neither have you. And he’s been wanting to say it for so long now, was going to so many times but it never felt like the right moment. 
And it’s now that he realizes that there was never going to be a better moment than any of the times his lips formed the words, only for nothing to come out. He should’ve said it when he felt it because he knows you don’t care about the moment being this perfect thing, for fucks sake you’re crying in his arms right now and you’re telling him that you love him for the first time. 
He is such an idiot sometimes.
“I love you too, princess,” he admits in a rasp, throat thick with the words. He’s never felt something this strongly for someone before. He wants to be around you all of the time, wants to hold you and touch you and taste you. You consume him, mind, body, and soul.
You’re there, tattooed on his fucking soul, inked in the love he hadn’t known he was missing until you met. The darkness that consumed him was a starless sky, a void waiting to be filled. You. You are the moon and the stars lighting him up, brightening his days.
He fucking loves you. So, so much.
“Yeah?” you ask, your soft crying turns to happy tears, ones he can’t help but to kiss as they roll down their cheeks. “You love me?” 
“I love you, (Y/N),” Azriel says, “I think maybe I always have.” 
“That’s so not true,” you laugh wetly, trying to swat at his chest. Azriel catches your hand in his and kisses your palm, golden eyes gleaming.
“Okay,” he concedes with a grin, “Maybe not always, but for a long time now.” 
You shake your head fondly. Your eyes dart away from him in your sudden nervousness. “Az?” 
“Yeah, princess?” 
You look at the picture once more, admiring it. It’s utterly perfect, just like him. 
Pointing at it, you say, “That. I want that as my first tattoo.”
Azriel stares, shocked. “Are you sure? You know I’ll give you any tattoo that you want, but I need you to be one hundred percent positive. I don’t want you to regret anything.”
“I won’t,” you shake your head in disagreement and the softness in his eyes makes your heart swell. He looks like he can’t believe you’re real and you’re his. You’ll make him believe it and more. Later, you want to hear him say those three magical words while he’s pinning you to his sheets. Now, you want a tattoo. “This has to be the tattoo, Az. It’s us. I want us.”
He kisses you firmly on the mouth. Desperate.
“I want us too.” 
“Then let’s do this thing, Az. I’m ready.”
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
MM Taglist Part 1: @justvibbinghere @nickishadow139 @going-through-shit @honeycries @natashachelsea @thisisew @kennedy-brooke @reiincarnatiion @ccucumbers @secret-ly-here @throneofsmut @cat-or-kitten @sourapplex @magical-mischief-makers @cami26cami @torchbearerkyle @a-frog-with-a-laptop @sevikas-whore @endless-worldss @vellichor01 @bangtans-jagiya @kalulakunundrum @pinksmellslikelove @bookishbroadwaybish @justdreamstars @i-am-infinite @whichwitchisthebitch @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @sia-r @ssmay123 @haivenhoule @18crazybutcutealsopsycho @bloodicka @acourtofbatboydreams @hannzoaks @judig92 @ilikefictionalmen @harrystylesfan2686 @dr4g0ngirl @helensophie @isa1b2h3 @viatorem-maris
663 notes · View notes
thepromptswhisperer · 7 months
Text
The First Time... Prompts
1) …they see you doing something embarrassing.
2) …you realize that you long to see them again.
3) …you cook together/they cook for you.
4) …you take them to your favorite spot in town/etc.
5) …you witness them having a bad day/receiving bad news.
6) …you see baby photos of them.
7) …they stand up for you/have your back.
8) …you go on a date.
9) …you notice them pushing you away/holding you at arm’s length.
10) …they cry in front of you.
11) …you fall asleep next to them/in their arms.
12) …they give you a nickname.
13) …you have an argument.
14) …they introduce you to someone important to them.
15) …you take a shower together.
16) …you notice that you’ve not been thinking about them at all. (e.g. after a breakup, while making a decision that changes their life too)
17) …your friends tease you about your crush/relationship.
18) …you say I love you.
19) …you see them wearing your clothes.
20) …you buy/make/plan something for their birthday.
21) …you hear them laugh.
22) …they (truly) annoy you.
23) …you go on a vacation together.
24) …you see them angry.
25) …they do/say something romantic for/to you.
26) …they hurt you.
27) …you see them acting so that it seems out of character.
28) …you hold hands.
29) …you have a (day)dream about them.
30) …they break a promise they made.
31) …they help you with something.
32) …they are feeling sick (and you take care of them).
33) …they don’t (immediately) answer your call/text.
34) …you kiss them.
35) …you fart in front of them.
36) …they are already asleep when you join them in bed.
37) …you meet them again after days/months/years apart.
38) …you see them drunk.
39) …you make plans together for something in the far future.
40) …you celebrate your anniversary together.
41) …they try out something that you love doing.
42) …you see them looking flustered.
43) …being near them doesn’t make you feel better/calm you at all.
44) …you (think it might be better/easier if you were to) break up (with them).
45) …you buy something together for your shared home.
46) …they give you puppy dog eyes.
47) …you see them being scared of something.
48) …you completely lose track of time talking to them.
49) …you hear them talking about an ex.
50) …they walk/drive you home.
51) …you get a message from them (in the morning/evening – as they want to be the first/last person you talk to that day).
52) …you wake up without them still sleeping next to you.
53) …you surprise them with something.
54) …you say something to them that you immediately regret.
55) …they treat you in a way/say something that helps you accept a flaw – or what you perceive as one, at least – of yours.
56) …they don’t say I love you back.
57) …you see them get jealous.
58) …you’re alone at their place (and it doesn’t feel odd).
59) …you see them not succeeding/failing at something.
60) …you experience their favorite day of the year/holiday/season with them by your side.
61) …you lie to them.
62) ...you have sex.
63) …you tell them something you never told anyone before.
64) …you notice a specific quirk of theirs.
65) …you talk about being with them for the rest of your life.
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the-common-cowgirl · 7 months
Text
Greater of Two Evils
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Summary: Your brother is a powerful man and so is Aemond Targaryen. You’re caught as a pawn between the two men. You have to chose between two evils and unfortunately for you, you chose wrong.
Rating: Explicit, Minors Do NOT Read, 18+
Word Count: 4.3k
Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader
Warnings: DD;DNE, Non-Con/Dub-Con, Choking, Rough Sex, smut (p in v, fingering, oral sex (f receiving) jealousy , possessiveness, incest-y vibes from brother, unwanted creampie, breeding kink, coercion, mentions of birth control/emergency contraception not being allowed/available to reader, Aemond wants reader pregnant, men being dicks, degration, praise, Capitalism and the Elite, swearing
A/N: This is a spite fic dedicated my first hate comment. I hope you wait even longer now. 💋
Not yet proofread.
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Your brother was a powerful man. One of the most powerful in Westeros. Many say he didn’t deserve his position, both of you coming from near nothing, but your brother was born with a gift your parents would often say was a “creative and hungry mind.” He was 10 years old when he started a small lawn care business in the Riverlands that grew to a full-fledged company at 14 he (and your parents due to his age) ran. At 16, he sold that company, got an internship at River’s Corp. When he freshly graduated University in Oldtown as the top of his class, giving a speech that would be remembered as one of the best speeches Oldtown Univeristy had ever the opportunity of hearing, he asked if you would like to move to Dorne with him, get out of the Riverlands and have an opportunity at Sunspear University. Seeing the chance at freedom and knowing your brother would most likely be paying for your schooling (since he had just been offered a high ranking position at Sunspear Industries) you took his offer and moved in with him a week after you graduated high school in the Riverlands.
That was three years ago. Your brother is now CFO of Rhoynar Industries and you’re in your third year of University at Sunspear studying Political Science. When you first moved in with your brother, the first two months were happy and spent everyday in your high-rise apartment’s swimming pool. But your brother had changed, or maybe, he was finally able to let his true self free during his college days as many young adults often do and his personality shift just took you longer to notice. His controlling behavior started innocent, nagging at your to keep the house tidy, then turning into commenting on what you wore out, turning into full blown comments about your appearance, weight, hair color. He made you dye your hair color black, to match his own natural color. Long gone were your auburn waves but you didn’t notice it then, well you did, but you weren’t as disturbed by it. Telling yourself he wanted you to look the part of perfect sister.
But then, halfway through your first semester, he told you that your Early Education major wasn’t good enough for him. He demanded you change it and when you tried to argue, he simply took your laptop, reminding that he bought it, and emailed your academic advisor that you’d like to change your major and wanted to meet with them first thing tomorrow morning.
That should’ve been the straw that broke the camel’s back, you should’ve left that night. Packed your things and went back home to the Riverlands; be with your parents.
I’m every aspect of your life, you always fell short of the greatness of your brother: courage was not exempt.
That next morning, you went with puffy eyes to your advisor’s office and changed your major, dropping out of your current courses and signing up for secondary 8-week courses for your new major that would, in your brother’s words “thankfully start next week.”
You could easily summarize your life in Dorne these past few years: the Seven Hells.
All of this leads you to this moment. Your brother and you were invited to King’s Landing by the head of Targ Corp for an annual celebration they held for their most loyal alliance corporations. It was easy, your brother and his team of associate executives played a simple game: play nice with each other and keep everyone else from rising above. Being around these people made you want to vomit. These posh-assholes were some of the most dangerous and hateful people you’d ever laid eyes on, all wrapped in clothing that were one of their low-level employee’s entirely yearly salary. You didn’t want to be here, not a single bit, but your brother held the carrot stick of Univeristy tuition and free-housing over your head so you played along like the good sister you were expected to be.
You had just gotten out of the shower when you brother came barging into your hotel room without knocking, holding a garment bag.
“Hey!” You shouted, covering your naked self with a towel, “Can you knock next time?” You briefly wondered how he had gotten in, you made sure you locked it twice, then you saw the keycard he had kept for your room sliding back into his pant pocket.
“Wear this tonight,” he disregarded your fluster and laid the garment bag down on the bed you were sitting on.
Your brows furrowed, looking at your own brother with trepidation. He knew you had brought one of the black dresses you had picked out a month ago and he had agreed to it then. Why had he changed his mind so suddenly?
You slowly opened the bag to reveal a dark green, dress that showed off entirely too much skin than you were comfortable with around these vampires.
You began to shake your head, “No, I don’t want to wear this one. It’s cold out and I want to wear the black, long sleeve one I-“
You were cut off with a harsh hand grabbing your jaw.
“Wear it or we’ll see how long you can pay for that expensive schooling on your own.” He spat into your face harshly.
Once he let go, you brought your hand up to rub at your jaw where there might be bruises now. Your skin was sore and your bone ached. “You know what, maybe I don’t want to even get this degree. Maybe I’ll move back in with mom and dad and just fucking live my own life again.”
As you sat on the bed angrily with tears of resentment brimming your eyes, you could feel your brother’s stare on you, boring holes into everything he deemed imperfect about you.
“Do this for me,” his voice was softer, “And I’ll give you anything you want.”
You finally looked up to him, disbelief in your eyes.
He kneeled to reach your eye level, you wrapped the towel around you tighter, “There is a man here I need you to impress. Do this for me and I’ll give you anything you want. I mean it.” His hand came up to brush your nude knee, you moved away instinctively.
You swallowed your unease. “What’s his name?” Your voice was so small.
He smiled at your acceptance, if you willing to work with him on something, if you giving in. “Aemond Targaryen,” he stood, returning to his business-like self. “He’s the son of the CEO, Visery’s. Aemond is a year older than me and he’s in politics. We-“ he paused, smiling at a memory, “We met in University…..He never really liked me.” He looked to you, “He’s the last legislator we need on our side for this deal that Roynar Industries and Targ Corp. are working up.”
“He’s against Targ. Corp?” You sounded flabbergasted, wondering why a Targaryen, the most infamously loyal family in the country, is an against his family’s own interests.
Your brother nodded and laughed, “Yeah, he fucking hates his dad.” He chuckled to himself some more before, “I just need you to win him to my side.”
You heard the implication and you skin began to crawl, stomach turning, “You seriously want me to fuck him?”
Your brother shook his head and chuckled as if you were crazy, “Just win him to our side.” He walked up to you again, towering over you as you sat, uneasily at the edge of the bed. He raised a hand and tapped the side of your head three times, “Use that political science knowledge I paid for.”
And then he left, making you feel like a tool.
You dressed yourself in the green gown, put on simple yet elegant makeup, and wore your dyed black hair up with a silver sun pin that your brother had picked out in his words, “to honor Roynar Industries.” You only felt branded.
Making your way down into the large event room of the hotel in which Targ Corp had set up for the celebration, you were handed a glass of something in a flute glass. The waiter had told you, in truth, but you were too nervous and occupied with looking elegant that you hadn’t really heard.
You spotted your brother across the event space standing with someone Martel from Roynar Industries that has offered for you to go ride on his yacht with him at least three times. Then you could see he was with some silver haired man, probably from Targ Corp. The Targaryens were known for their loyalty, ruthlessness and silver hair. Targ Corp. was the most powerful company in Westeros, they had their hand in everything and could turn anyone’s head the way they wanted. Coming it second was Roynar Industries and the old saying, “Keep your friends close and your enemies closer,” was prevalent in the relationship with the two corporations. They worked together in most large projects in Westeros and you knew the each of them was waiting for the other to fall.
You walked the perimeter of the event, scanning the crowd for someone you knew or the person you were after. Although, you had heard Aemond Targaryen’s name before you had no idea what he looked like. You used your context clues though and assumed he had silver hair, he was probably tall and lean like all Targaryen men are and most likely flirtatious.
“Great,” you breathe, remembering a girl from Sunspear a few years ago that recalled a horrible relationship with an older man by the name of “Aegon Targaryen.” One in which he not only expected sex from her, he cheated when she refused. You briefly wondered how Aemond was related to this Aegon.
“Are you looking for me?” A deep, soft voice sounded beside your ear. You stopped dead in you tracks and turned like a scared bunny to the stranger.
The stranger. The silver haired stranger who checked nearly all your boxes for the stranger you were searching for. Had he been right?
You gathered your composure quickly, “And you are?”
“I’m assuming the man you’re looking for if you’re his sister,” he pointed behind you to your brother who was not chatting up a dark haired lady and a curly haired man with a cane.
You gave a quick, nervous laugh and stuck out your hand, “Nice to meet you, Aemond. I’m Y/N.”
Aemond looked down at your outstretched hand between the two of you, his his eye flicked up to you. You realized then, only one moved, however, the other, the one that intercepts his scar, is quite realistic. He ran his fingers slowly across your palm before grasping it gently but not shaking. The act was sensual and strange, you tried to pull away but he quickly snaked his hand up your arm and wrapped his large hand around your bicep, pulling you closer to him. He leaned in, “Aren’t you tired of being a pawn for your brother?”
You pulled back to look at him square in the face, at his perfect, angular face that was so sharp. “What the fuck do you mean?” You whispered, wondering what all he knew and how.
“I think you know exactly what I mean.” He whispered into your ear. If you had not been in the edge of the event, you two would be quite a spectacle to behold but someone, this man, this stranger, had planned this. He had to. You were both in the shadows, the outskirts, not to be seen unless looked for and Gods, you hoped someone would look for you. He made you uneasy, uncomfortable, and warm in places you shouldn’t be given the circumstance of your situation. He looked down to your cleavage, “Tell me, did he pick out this dress? This color?”
You furrowed your brows, trying to figure out how Aemond knew this. “Wha-“
“Did he tell you that him and his colleagues have a bet if we’ll fuck tonight or not?”
You looked back to your brother who was laughing with some of his associates from Roynar Industries. “How do you-“
“I have eyes and ears everywhere, I’m two steps ahead of him and always have been. He has such a problem being number two doesn’t he?” His voice was thick with hatred and his grip on your arm was bruising.
“Get the fuck off of me!” You just about screamed, pushing from Aemond. He let go and took a step back, look at you up and down. He resembled a wild predator, maybe that’s what he was. You smoothed your dress, “Fuck you, you stupid bitch,” you spat angrily, adjusting a strap of your dress. “I was just told to be friendly with you. I’m not a sex worker you ass! I wouldn’t fuck you in a million years.” You downed the alcoholic liquid in the glass before setting it on the ground at your feet. Aemond only watched you with a newfound amusement. It made you angrier. “I’m only helping my brother out until I graduate then it’s fuck this place, fuck Westeros and most of all….” You looked him up and down, finally realizing that he was goddamn handsome, dangerously so, if his personality wasn’t so off-putting, “fuck you.”
You stormed away before he could say anything back. You didn’t want to be here anymore, you wanted to return to your room and cry into your pillow until you fell asleep. You were angry and hurt. How could your brother set you up like this? How could a complete stranger be so fucking brash and horrible? How could you be so stupid to believe your brother’s hunger for power would never come to this? Setting you up for his own benefit?
You’re certain your brother saw you in your way out of the venue, he always has tabs on you, but you knew he wouldn’t rush to your aid or to scrutinize you in front of people he wanted to look good for.
You slam your hotel room door and sink against it, hands over your face, crying on the floor. You sit like that for some time before a knock vibrates against your back and rings in your ears.
“Go away,” you try to say through sobs.
The knock comes again.
“I said go away!” Your shout this time is uncomely for a young woman you could hear your brother say in your head but you don’t care.
“It’s Aemond,” come the voice from the other side of the door.
The raises a fire in your heart as you angrily fling the door open to see the posh, pissy man from before. Mascara is running down your cheeks and your hair is falling out of its updo but you don’t care. “Go away,” you remind him dangerously, beginning to slam the door he puts his foot in the way and hand stopping you from breaking his foot ever so casually.
He pushes the door open with ease and steps into the room, making you step back and further. “We both have a problem and I’m here to propose a deal.”
Your brow quirks and your arms cross, “A deal?”
“A deal,” he echos. “I propose that you and I team up, I’ll offer you whatever he did, you offer me information to take your brother down and out.” He takes another step toward you and you take a step back in response, feeling the back of your legs hit the bedside.
“Why would I agree to that? I’m already getting my college paid for and a place to stay during. Why would I agree to everything I have in turn for you to ruin my brother? He’s horrible but I still love him.” You shook your head, “He’s done a lot for me-“
“I can offer more.” He moved in closer, making you lean uncomfortably against the bed.
“I don’t know you-“
“I will offer you more. You can get to know me, we can form a partnership. A friendship you could call it.” His voice was suggestive.
“Your offer of more is a friendship? I don’t need-“
“I can fuck you, can he?”
His words slapped you across the face. “What?” You mumbled like a dumb baby, confused and shocked. Maybe a little turned on.
Aemond brought his hands up your side and pushed you down to sit on the bed, he kneeled down and kissed the inside of your knee. Everything felt so wrong but he looked so goddamn handsome, you wanted it even if you said you wouldn’t fuck him.
“They have a bet, they want us to fuck.” He explained, “Let’s do it, prove we are into each other. You feed me information on him and the legalities of Roynar Industries.” He kissed your other thigh, you leaned back slightly involuntarily, it had been so long since a man had touched you, your brother wouldn’t allow you to date. “And I’ll slowly give you an out.”
Your breath hitched as his long, slender hand reached under your silky dress and trailed its way toward your core. “Slowly?” You questioned him breathlessly as his his thumb found your clothed clit on contact and began working against it. You could feel wetness pooling as he worked you open and your thighs began to move accommodate him as he moved closer and his other hand slid the dress higher and higher.
“Yeah sweetling, it’ll start with dates, then you staying at my flat in King’s Landing, then moving in.” Your dress was high enough to show off the lacy, black panties you wore and Aemond groaned, making you clench and buck your hips up to meet his ministrations.
“Sounds-sound like,” you were breathless and drunk on the attention he was giving you, “you want more than a fucking spy.” You fully laid back and lifted your hips so Aemond could pull your panties down your legs and off.
He ran a dexterous finger though your folds and watched it disappear into you with ease as you moaned. “Yeah maybe,” his voice was husky, “maybe I like putting your brother in his place. Second to Aemond fucking Targaryen. Always has been, always will be.”
He added a second finger, moving dangerously against your g-spot and the coil in your lower abdomen began to tighten. You lifted your back off the bed in a silent scream as he added a third finger and his mouth sucking at your clit. The intense and sudden pleasure gave way to a sharp, nearly painful orgasm and Aemond fucked you right through it.
When the wave of pressure came down, Aemond lapped at the wetness he expelled from you on your cunt and on his own fingers, moaning at the taste.
You laid on your back, trying to regain your senses and trying to remind yourself you were fucking a complete stranger, you should stop here before it was too late but you snapped out of your senses as he rose, half nude already and unzipping his black dress pants, pulling them and his underwear off in one swipe to reveal the longest, thickest cock you’d ever seen. The idea of taking such a thing inside you made you nearly swell with pride and excitement at the opportunity.
Aemond saw the look on your face and gave his hard cock a quick stroke. “Are you on birth control?”
You shook your head, “He wouldn’t let me, said the side effects are too dang-“
“Well I don’t have a condom,” he said, climbing atop you and pushing you up the bed, not giving you a choice, another reason to get the fuck out now. “I’m clean,” he offered before biting your collarbone then kissing the bite mark.
“I’m-I’m clean.” The voices in your head telling you to get out now.
He moved to the other side of your head and kissed your neck sensually, “You want me to fuck you raw?” Practically growling into your artery as he thrust the tip of his hard cock to your clit, making it harder and harder to say no.
“Uh, just, uh, pull out?” You squeaked as he did it again. You just wanted the fucking thing in you already, stretching you out in the way you wanted.
You felt his smile against your skin, “sure thing sweetling,” it sounded unconvincing.
You felt the tip breach you slowly then push forward even slower. Aemond raised to watch himself split you apart, groaning as you pussy sucked him in with a need unknown to you.
When he finally bottomed out, jutting painfully against your cervix he gave you a sound to adjust and gods, was he fucking endowed. You felt his cock throbbing with need and you wanted to please him, to let him know you were worthy so you bucked you hips against his and let out a moan at how fucking full you felt.
He only chuckled darkly and began his rough assault on your cunt. Pounding without warning or abandon into your heat, pushing your thighs to your chest and bending you in half, positioning you in a way that had him hitting your spot over and over until were moaning his name and your pussy began to flutter.
“Slow-slow down,” you pleaded, it felt like too much.
“Oh, poor little sister can’t fucking take it?” He once slammed extra hard after his demeaning question, it made you shriek. “Poor baby,” he wiped a tear forming in your eye with a sarcastic worry. “She played with the big dogs and didn’t know what she’s in for-“ he grunted, “you should be lucky I’m not fucking you in the ass.”
He pulled your dress down, ripping the shoulder straps to reveal you tits. Smiling like a wild man, he grasped them both harshly before sticking his tongue out and licking each nipple back and forth, making you squirm and tighten around him. “Fuck,” he groaned.
Then, as if a lightbulb went off, he pulled out and flipped you over, pulling you to your knees and ripping your dress and destroyed bra from your body. He entered you harshly again and pulled your back to his chest. His mouth on your ear, nibbling then biting, “I need to make you mine. Announce your brother who you belong to- who owns you now.”
His hand traveled down your belly to the bulge of his cock outlined in your lower stomach. “Do you feel me? Do you feel me up there? Feel me practically in your womb?”
You could, it was painful the way he bullied your cervix but the way he pleasured your sweet spot made you clench and fight off an orgasm that waited to burst.
He laughed into your ear, “Fuck, cum on this cock, I know you need to. Come on me and I’ll give you what you need.”
What the fuck did he mean what you need?
But that didn’t matter, he brought his hand to play with your clot as his pounding continued and you couldn’t fight off the orgasm anymore. Your body tightened and the coil snapped, pulsing around his cock, milking it, you screamed his named and he pinched your nipples as you came on his cock.
I’m your haze, he slowly let you fall to to bed as your ass remained up, his hands firmly handing you in place. “Such a good girl. A better girl than I’d thought you’d be. Oh, a perfect girl for me.” His pounding was relentless as he chase his own high.
You barely registered him saying, “Oh gods, we’ll be perfect together,” before you felt him still behind you, then the pulsing of his cock as warmth flooded you. He let out a groan, a triumphant groan, as he came inside you.
A shaking sob left you as you realized you’d been tricked, betrayed again, used again.
He stayed inside you for some time before pulling his softened cock out and putting on his clothes. You collapsed onto the bed, feeling the evidence of his orgasm slowly slide from your body. You grabbing the pillow ahead of you and hid your face in it. That was, until you felt his hand caress your nude back and the bed shift with the weight of him sitting beside you.
“Hey sweetheart, it’s okay. Don’t cry. I need to know you’re gonna remember our agreement.”
You furrowed your brows, “Fuck you, there is no agreement anymore. You lied to me.”
Aemond chuckled and pushed a strand of hair from your face, “Think of it as the lesser of two evils. Marry me and have everything you’d ever wanted or keep being a pawn for your brother.”
“You’re nuts if you think I’d marry you after a single fuck.”
He looked back down to your thighs, where his seed slowly seeped out, then back to you with a smug grin. “I think your brother would kill you if it was all over the press that you suddenly fell pregnant and unwed. We all know he’s a religious freak now.”
You furrowed your brows, “I’m buying emergency contraceptive as soon as you leave this room.”
He chuckled, “I’m not leaving then.”
“Who said I’ll get pregnant anyway?” You were angry, so angry you couldn’t make sense of his hand sneaking up your neck, holding it tightly.
“My father owns the press. If they say you are, then you are. Imagine what your mother would think, your father? Oh, your reputation would be ruined and your brother would be embarrassed of you.” He grit through his teeth, “And I’ll have people watch you, I already do. They give me updates, they follow you, they’ll know, I’ll know if you are. And then,” he let go of your neck, “You won’t have a choice. I won’t give you one.”
“You’re a fucking psycho.”
He chuckled, running his fingers along your arm, “I’m the easy choice. I’ll give you everything, just give me yourself.”
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673 notes · View notes
queen-of-reptiles · 2 months
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𝙳𝙾𝚆𝙽 𝙵𝙾𝚁 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙲𝙾𝚄𝙽𝚃
description: during kristie's first game at west ham against tottenham no less, her girlfriend is pushing as hard as she can against the wind. so hard she knocks herself out.
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kristie mewis x female reader
disclaimer: this is all just fiction - have fun!
warnings: t*ttenh*m, concussion, mentions of blood and injury, swearing, cute fluff
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y/n just posted on her story
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kmewis19 just posted on her story
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y/n just posted
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liked by samanthakerr20, mackenziearnold and 309, 824 others
tagged kmewis19, kyracooneyx, and 8 others
y/n Beginning of Jan dump 😝
view 14, 999 comments
username1: cuteeeee 😭
username2: I love how Kristie is here now!!! 😍
viv_asseyi: We look so good!
^
y/n: Oh yeah we do!
username3: They sound like the beginning of a joke lmao - An American and an Australian play for West Ham
^
username4: 🤣🤣
mackenziearnold: LOVE YOUUU 💕
^
y/n: LOVE YOU MOREEEE 💕
caitlinfoord: I couldn't breathe I was laughing so hard ! 😂
^
y/n: don't - I giggle when I think about it 😂😂
kyracooneyx: A KNIFE! 😌
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y/n: NO! 😶
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username5: 😭
kmewis19: My baby <3
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y/n: So glad you're finally here !
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hawacissoko23: She really is, she wouldn't stop crying without you.
^
y/n: bro... 😔
westhamwomen: JUST SOLD MY CAR
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y/n: TO LUCAS PAQUETA
^
lucaspaqueta: 💙💙
^
username6: 🤣
samanthakerr20: 💕💕
^
y/n: 💕💕
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y/n and Kristie had met years ago, by complete chance. They had never played against each other, but while y/n was on holiday in America happened to run into each other and the rest was history.
Long time phone calls and late night face times became a regular thing for them as they navigated their relationship with a bright smile on their faces.
However, ever since Kristie's big move to y/n's team of six years, the couple had been hardly spotted apart. Not that anyone could blame the two lovers.
They were simply making up for lost time, and months spent without one another by their side. Therefore, they were attached all the time, some part of their bodies always touching.
The west ham girls found it almost hilarious, y/n had come to earn the nickname of the Aussie Storm, from how dangerous she was on the wing, how formidable she was as a player.
Yet, the second Kristie was in her eyeline the once fierce storm turned into a sunny day, the woman's attitude and scary demeanour 180' ing completely.
Currently, the group were stood around Rehanne, listening to her pep talk for the game ahead, the wind was incredibly wild and y/n was grateful that her girlfriend had helped her pin her braids stiffly in place.
The group were huddled in the changing room, Kristie in front of y/n, her back pressed against y/n's chest as the taller woman ran her arms up and down Kristie's sides soothingly.
The wind howled as the group cheered, Kristie pecking her lover's lips in good luck as they ran out onto the pitch. Kristie was on the bench for the start of the game and watched as the game got underway.
It was clear very early into the game, that today's battle was not just a London Derby, but also a derby against the earth's elements. The storm filled wind pushing even the lowest passes off course.
Kristie watched as her girlfriend stood strong, battling with Grace Clinton for the umpteenth time in the first twenty minutes, the blonde Tottenham player being dispossessed by y/n.
By half time, even in the cold wind and even colder air, West Ham managed to be 2-0 up. y/n had hardly stopped, and even in the cold she was covered with sweat.
Kristie moved over to her as she panted, handed her a water bottle as they listened to Rehanne's critics for the second half, before they finally had a moment to breathe.
y/n felt light, as if she wasn't fully in focus with what was going on around her. y/n ignored it, instead taking small sips of her water as Katrina sat next to her, the two national teammates clasping hands.
"You're doing so well babe. Never seen you like this." Kristie says softly after Katrina gets up.
"Ah well." y/n says panting. "London Derby baby." She tells Kristie who grins, pecking her lips as they are called back out. y/n groans but stands up, crouching to get Kristie on her back who chuckles.
"Weee." Kristie says as y/n runs down the corridor and onto the pitch, the two holding their arms out like aeroplanes.
One of their social media crew runs at them camera in hand as they get closer, Vivi in front of them pretending to roll her eyes in annoyance as she shakes her head at the camera.
"Children." Vivi jokes at the camera as y/n races close to the lens.
"Come on you irons!" She grins, laughing as Kristie kisses the lens as she jogs off, putting her down as they warm up.
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twitter/X
username1: Kristie and y/n! I'm crying they're so cute! 😭😭
username2: Vivi pretending to be annoyed at them! The little 'come on you irons', Kristie's kiss. UGH CUTE. 🥺🥺🥺🥺
username3: WE LOVE THE WEST HAM ADMIN SM
username4: It is SOOO clear how much happier y/n is with Kristie here and I am SO happy for her ! 🥺
^
username5: YESSSSS
username6: I love y/n and Kristie sm 😭
BarclaysWSL: We NEED a relationship like West Ham's Kristie and y/n NOW PLEASE 💳💳
^
username7: 💕💕
see more comments...
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Kristie had made her debut on the 63rd minute, the blonde pushing against the wind as best she could as she tried her best to hold the ball as she went for a corner kick.
y/n watched proudly as Kristie tried to stop the ball from rolling away with little success, her jaw twitching from it's clenched position which she always did when aggravated.
West Ham were 2-1 up, Tottenham having snuck a goal past them ten minutes ago, in which y/n ended up rolling against the floor making her wince, but stood up quick enough to not be brought off, she just ignored the dizziness she felt.
Kristie kicked the ball finally, the wind pushing it around the air and almost into the net where Becky Spencer managed to bat it away, straight at y/n who pushed forward, trying to beat the wind.
y/n stuck her leg out, hoping to catch the ball and swoop it into the back of the next. Charli Grant, of Tottenham had the same idea but to defend.
y/n pushed her leg, swopping the ball past Becky and into the net, however her leg catches Charli's and with the speed y/n was running at, the girl falls and her head pushes against the goal post.
Kristie - who had ran toward the box in excitement - paused as she saw y/n's body fall lifeless to the ground, blood dripping down on face and onto her kit below as Charli held her national teammates head, crying in fear.
"Medics!" Kristie shouts, racing to her girlfriend, stripping Kristie's shirt off herself, leaving her in her sports bra.
Kristie's hands were shaking as Katrina hugged Charli, trying to calm her crying as Mackenzie held the other side of y/n, whispering begging words for her to wake up as the medics arrived.
Kristie could feel herself being pulled away but she tried to shake her head, tears shrouding her vision as Mackenzie finally got her away, her shirt being left against y/n's head, now dripping with blood.
The stadium was silent as the group crowded around y/n's body, the blood now stopping with the medics working hard and whispering to each other.
Kristie was in Mackenzie's arms, crying into her shoulder as she tried to keep herself calm, Hawa and Vivi were gripping each other tightly, Bethany England by their side as they all paled in worry.
Charli was slowly stopping her tears, staying clung to Katrina who was calming her down with soothing words as they watched y/n be stretchered off.
"Can you continue?" Mackenzie asked Kristie kindly, understanding if she would rather be with her lover.
"She'd want me too." Kristie nods, taking a wipe to scrub the blood off her hands as they went into a five minute water break.
Kristie pulled on her top, listening to Rehanne's talk about how they now played the rest of this game for y/n and the second she knew anything she would let them know.
The game continued, but it was clear everyone was shaken up, passes had become sloppy and shots were off completely, even the crowd was hardly paying attention.
During the 80th minute, Grace Clinton scored, narrowing the gap to 3-2 to West Ham, but no one celebrated, and then Kristie shot her corner on the 88th. The ball flying in due to the wind. No one celebrated.
The ref called the game at 98 minutes, no one complaining about the few minutes shaved off as the West Ham team tore down the tunnel and to the medics room.
The medics explained y/n had already been taken to hospital, the injury not looking past a major concussion and some blood loss, which had been hopefully rectified now they had stitched her up.
Kristie's hands were still stained red and shaking as she sighed out in relief, Charli burst into tears again, having followed the West Ham team.
Kristie's next hour of taking photos and showering was blurry as she drove to the hospital, finding the look of it so different to her home country as she walked into y/n's room, the girl sat up somewhat and wired up.
"Hey my love." y/n smiled weakly, her skin pale and sweaty as Kristie blinked away tears.
"I can't believe you're okay." Kristie sighed out in relief. "I was so worried." She adds and y/n nods, as she shuffles over, letting Kristie slide off her trainers and slide into the bed with her.
"Welcome to London love." y/n chuckled and Kristie sighs out. "It's a rough concussion, but no lasting damage, need to get the stitched taken out in a week, and then ease back into training over the next few weeks." y/n tells her.
"Looks like I'm gonna be playing nurse." Kristie sighs, pressing a relieved kiss to y/n's head.
"Hmm. Only if you wear the outfit we bought at Christmas." y/n jokes and Kristie snorts.
"Dude, gross!" Mackenzie says as she leans against the door way. "Entire teams are here, Spurs girlies too. You feel up to visitors?" Mackenzie asked her.
"Yeah, alright." y/n nods. "We won yeah?" She then asks and Mackenzie chuckles.
"Yeah, your mrs scored a goal." Mackenzie says and y/n grins.
"Had to do it while I wasn't there, huh?" y/n asks Kristie who chuckles and pecks her lips carefully.
"Well, I guess I will have to score one next week." Kristie says and y/n smiles.
"Okay my love." y/n smiles before the rest of the teams trudge in.
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kmewis19 just posted on her story
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y/n just posted on her story
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END
my cutie girl <3
289 notes · View notes
sasuhinamonth · 1 month
Text
SASUHINA MONTH 2024 Prompts and Artist of the Year!!!
Fellas.
It's time!
Welcome to 2024! In June, we'll be hosting SHMonth2024! Thanks all for following along with us during our journey! Your patience and enthusiasm keeps us going, and we appreciate all of you!
As always, let's start with our Artist of the Year for 2024!
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Mods of the SasuHina Month Event work hard to not only keep up to date with the happenings of our little part of the fandom, but we also carefully consider all our beautiful SasuHina creators! This year's Artist of the Year is always creating beauty with their works, and we want to shine a light on that!
Everyone, please congratulate Pongalia for her hard work and for being this year's SasuHina Artist of the Year!
Our dear artist always brings awe to everyone who sees her art! As you can see above, she makes the most beautiful, capturing art! Her talent is inspiring, and she's known across the fandom for her beautiful shading!
Please visit her X/Twitter to show her some love! She deserves it for all her hard work and passion!!!!
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Now . . .
The time has come.
As a quick reminder, this years theme is Opposites Attract (very fitting for these two, if you ask us). SasuHina Month 2024 is happening in June, so (hopefully) you all will have some time to think and plan!
Thanks all for joining us!
We present to you: The Prompts of SHMonth2024!
Day 1
Beginnings & Ends | Inicios y Finales
New & Old | Nuevo y Viejo
Day 2
Silly & Serious | Bobo y Serio
Fail & Succeed | Fallo y Éxito
Day 3
Shy & Bold | Tímido y Audaz
Few & Many | Poco y Mucho
Day 4
Summer & Winter | Verano e Invierno
Humble & Proud | Humilde y Orgulloso
Day 5
Create & Destroy | Creación y Destrucción
Crying & Laughter | Llanto y Risas
Day 6
Friend & Enemy | Amigo y Enemigo
Empty & Full | Lleno y Vacío
Day 7
Pearl & Onyx | Perla y Ónix
Dawn & Dusk | Amanecer y Atardecer
Day 8
Hidden & Seen | Oculto y Visto
Loud & Quiet | Ruidoso y Callado
Day 9
Kind & Cruel | Amable y Cruel
Past & Future | Pasado y Futuro
Day 10
Angel & Demon | Inicios y Finales
Rain & Shine | Lluvia y Brillo
Day 11
Lost & Found | Perdido y Hallado
Color & Grayscale | Color y Escala de grises
Day 12
Cat & Dog | Perro y Gato
Tea & Coffee | Té y Café
Day 13
Glass & Stone | Vidrio y Piedra
Yin & Yang | Yin y Yang
Day 14
Early & Late | Temprano y Tarde
Far & Near | Lejano y Cerca
Day 15
Sweet & Bitter | Dulce y Amargo
Bright & Dim | Brillante y Opaco
Day 16
Apart & Together | Separados y Juntos
Deep & Shallow | Profundo y Poco profundo
Day 17
Smooth & Rough | Suave y Áspero
Admit & Deny | Admitir y Negar
Day 18
Freeze & Melt | Congelado y Derretido
Water & Fire | Agua y Fuego
Day 19
Love & Hate | Amor y Odio
Fast & Slow | Rápido y Lento
Day 20
Give & Take | Dar y Recibir
Adult & Child | Adulto y Niño
Day 21
Innocent & Guilty | Inocente y Culpable
Doubt & Trust | Dudar y Confiar
Day 22
War & Peace | Guerra y Paz
Yes & No | Sí y No
Day 23
Neat & Messy | Ordenado y Desordenado
Capture & Release | Capturar y Liberar
Day 24
Flowers & Weapons | Flores y Armas
Oblivious & Observant | Inadvertido y Observador
Day 25
Hot & Cold | Caliente y Frío
Rise & Fall | Ascenso y Caída
Day 26
Tall & Short | Alto y Bajo
Single & Married | Soltero y Casado
Day 27
Thoughtful & Selfish | Considerado y Egoísta
Forget & Remember | Olvidar y Recordar
Day 28
Magical & Ordinary | Mágico y Ordinario
Absence & Present | Ausente y Presente
Day 29
Attack & Protect | Atacar y Proteger
Always & Never | Siempre y Nunca
Day 30
Before & After | Antes y Después
Departure and Arrival | Partida y Llegada
173 notes · View notes
fairlyang · 3 months
Text
Let you break my heart again II🕷️
will your friendship be strong enough or will it be easy to crack through?
w/c: 2.9K
pairing: miguel o’hara x f!reader
tags: angst, more heartbreak, no more playboy, typical girl best friend problems, crazy gf, cheating allegations, betrayal, heartbreak, the end
notes: I dragged a lil ass I wanted it done the next day but writer brain </3 FINAL PART !!!!! (My original idea was for mig to only admit his feelings to reader after she got gwen stacy’ed)
part one
Months had passed and this girlfriend actually stuck around. He didn’t get rid of her and he somehow didn’t grow bored of her like he had with the others.
The worst part had to be when they made the three month point and he decided it was finally time for her to meet you.
That day your nerves had grown and you weren’t so sure you’d be able to do it. To pull through and not just burst out crying when you watch as he looks at her with pure love in his eyes.
It looked like his playboy days were over and he was finally ready for a solid relationship.
You barely made it through the night and if it weren’t for Peter’s hugs and MJ’s comforting words when Dana went to touch up her makeup and Miguel went to go change clothes, you would’ve been an absolute goner.
It was getting late and Peter offered to take you home to which you immediately accepted. Miguel then offered to take you after dropping Dana off but you politely declined.
Especially after seeing how wide her eyes got and she was (not so) subtly glaring at you.
Usually girlfriends would hate the girl best friend just because they’re a girl, but in this case Dana is a smart girl, and she had an instant inkling of your feelings towards him.
Even though you’ve remained respectful like you always have been when meeting his girlfriends, she didn’t like that Miguel had a girl best friend.
She kept her mouth shut and pretended she was fine but slowly piecing things together in her head.
So after saying your goodbyes and leaving Miguel’s apartment it didn’t take long for you to break down in the backseat of Peter’s car with an empathetic MJ trying to console you.
It only grew more difficult to hide your true feelings. Especially because Miguel would now bring Dana to group hangouts. Which makes some sense, even though Peter and MJ were just friends when you met them, then grew feelings for one another.
Alas you had no choice but to suck it up.
Three more months passed by and your love for him never faded. He didn’t even treat you that differently either which did end up causing some trouble for him from Dana. She apparently didn’t like how close you guys were, even if you did know each other since you were 14.
She claimed she should be his only best friend and what else could he really ask for.
He told her that you’d always be his best friend and he wasn’t going to toss you out just because she wants to be his only best friend. He can have multiple best friends.
How could he throw away an 8 year long friendship?
He then called her crazy for thinking she can control who he’s friends with.
So she recalled his words right back to him when she randomly ended up befriending his younger half-brother, Gabriel, merrily weeks after that argument.
Miguel wouldn’t ever tell you the specifics of the argument, mainly because in a sense he wanted to protect you. He didn’t want you to feel bad that his girlfriend didn’t like you, (as if you didn’t already know) and that she wanted him to drop you.
So when hanging out just as a pair he’d only tell you he was frustrated with her. He told you that she had befriended Gabriel and you only saw red flags but kept quiet.
You tried to remain cautious of what you’d say when he’d come to you about relationship problems. Obviously deep down you want to tell him to break up with her because she’s toxic and controlling but it wasn’t the best idea as the supposed girl best friend that “isn’t” in love with her best friend.
So you told him to maybe spend less time with you, mostly because you genuinely couldn’t think of an actual suitable solution.
But it didn’t matter because ultimately he denied that idea quickly and looked deeply in your eyes promising you, “you’ll always be my best friend. Nothing’s going to change that.”
If only he knew and kept to his promise.
It was now two months after that conversation was had and a whirlwind of actions, words, and lies would turn everything around.
You went to eat some lunch at a cafe outside of campus when your phone died on the way back. You were fine without relying on your phone and just thought you’d charge it during your next lecture on your laptop.
As you finally hit campus and walked past different students sitting around the grass and benches, your eyes focused on a familiar head with its brown bob.
You sigh and felt your heart ache as you walked past Dana eating Miguel’s face out in public like that.
Until you took a double take and dread hit you after realizing it wasn’t Miguel she was making out with. It was fucking Gabriel.
You couldn’t believe she was just openly cheating on Miguel like it was nothing.
You stood a couple feet from them and you couldn’t believe this was real. You blinked, rubbed your eyes, and blinked again but sure enough it was the younger O’Hara brother with a red scarf and those goofy ass (but recognizable) goggles.
You gulped and took your phone out only for the screen to show that it was dead.
You mentally panicked and were afraid they’d catch you so you quickly ran inside and immediately headed straight to your lecture hall.
The klutz in you unfortunately never went away so you nearly fell as soon as you accidentally hit a body after making a turn.
Horror filled your eyes and body as Miguel held onto your shoulders, trying to see what was wrong.
Your eyes were wide and your heart was racing wildly, you couldn’t possibly do this right now.
“I- M-Mig- uh- ‘m l-late for c-chem- sorry!” You stuttered and pushed past him to get to class and manage your thoughts properly.
As soon as you made it and sat at your unassigned assigned seat that happened to be next to MJ, who was worried to see you so stunned, held your hand and tried to get you to be calm because you looked so distressed.
You hadn’t even realized your hands and legs were shaking. How could they not be?
You just witnessed the most brutal betrayal of all time and there was no concrete evidence whatsoever.
Your first instant thought was that Miguel wouldn’t believe you.
He was full on in love with Dana now, in what world would he believe the love of his love would be cheating on him?
Not only cheating on him but cheating on him with his brother?!?
MJ’s mouth was moving but you couldn’t hear a word, you couldn’t even read her lips. All your brain was set on was how of fucking course it had to be you who caught Dana’s ass cheating.
How fast she’d turn it onto you would be so insane. Disgusting even.
What if she exposed your feelings towards him?
What if she could convince him you’re lying?
All you could do is pray he’d believe his ole reliable best friend over a girl he’s been with for 6 months and his brother he never really got along with.
MJ was eventually able to catch your attention but it took the entire lesson for her to get a peep out of you. And that peep only happen to be a sad whisper of Miguel’s name.
As your phone finally charged your first instinct was to text Miguel, quickly typing the words, “need to see you, my place after class?”
He quickly responded with a simple, “sounds good.” Then followed by a, “should I be worried?” Which you had no response to.
You quietly told MJ the unfortunate news to which she nearly gasped out loud. Her eyes were wide and she finally understood why you were so freaked out.
The lecture had finally ended and you collected all your things while MJ was quietly asking you questions to which you quietly answered.
Following your tail as you left the lecture hall and off to find Peter to quickly fill him in, and to help with your nerves because you didn’t even know how to start off that conversation with Miguel.
They were both giving you suggestions on how to break it down gently to him while Peter drove you back to your place.
You could feel the anxiety building in your stomach and it felt so scary not knowing how he’ll react.
And it overall felt even worse that you couldn’t take a video or a picture. This was practically a test to see if he’d trust you enough to tell him the truth or just make up a lie.
You could only pray that he’d believe your words over hers but you couldn’t even begin to prepare yourself in case he didn’t.
How could he not believe you? Even if you’ve been desperately in love with him you’d never do anything to purposely destroy any of his relationships.
You were just too kind-hearted to ever even think about doing that.
Would he really have it in him to not trust your words anymore?
Will he believe her words over yours?
Will this lifelong friendship finally come to its end like Dana has been wanting from the very beginning?
Finally you had arrived at your apartment and you still felt uneasy. Miguel’s car wasn’t in sight until you heard the revving of his car and that’s when things started to get real.
They gave you their final words of encouragement before you got out and climbed up the steps to wait for him.
He parked behind Peter and as he got out you could slightly hear him ask if they were gonna come in to which they obviously said no.
He shrugged and walked over to you as you unlocked the first door before stepping in and walking to the left door that lead up to your apartment.
“Hey are you okay? You seemed shaken up earlier.” He said, walking in and shutting the first door behind him.
You walked in and stepped aside to let him go in then shut the door behind him. The anxiety returned and you weren’t so sure how to start it all off once you turned around to look at him.
Your heart ached and although you might’ve been filled with jealousy for months on end, you would never pray he would get hurt this way.
You always wanted happiness for him, even if it wasn’t with you.
And now that he had it, you had to break his heart.
How could you possibly let him down gently?
You felt your hands beginning to sweat and your legs started shaking again which he instantly noticed and grabbed you, carefully leading you to the couch.
He sat you down and sat right next to you, gently holding your hands, wondering what could possibly have given you such a drastic reaction.
You desperately tried to calm yourself but it was to no use. Your body was panicking inside and out, giving away that this was something serious.
You still didn’t know how to even start.
So you just blurted it out.
“Dana cheated on you.”
Silence filled the room.
You could’ve sworn he could hear your heart pounding out of your chest. He was frozen and immediate tears formed in his eyes.
This was so fucked up.
In all these years of being his shoulder to cry on, you were petrified that it would come to an end. In a way you kind of always relied on him being there no matter what.
This whole situation could make or break that.
“I saw Dana making out with Gabriel on campus…” you whispered before adding, “I’m so sorry.”
You had never felt so nervous in your life. You moved one hand from his and held his while he stared down at the floor.
You were subconsciously tapping your foot on the ground because the anxiety had just taken control and the silence was already killing you.
You couldn’t help but feel sympathetic, he truly has never been so happy, and now it’s just gone.
You looked at his face and as soon as you did, his tears started pouring out. One hot tear fell after another and you grabbed him, him embracing you as he cried into your shoulder.
You felt sick to your stomach, it felt like the most unfortunate thing to ever have happened to you.
Having to tell the love of your life that his girlfriend cheated on him.
Having to see how heartbroken he was.
Nothing would’ve prepared you for his reaction.
The quiet sobs and light shaking.
The way his hands were trembling while holding on to you.
You just hugged him as tightly as you could and gently rubbed his back to try to soothe him. Maybe it was past trauma that suddenly hit him, that he started to sob a little louder.
Your heart was practically breaking right with his. You felt downright horrible and weren’t sure how you could possibly help him. Only thing you could do was be with him, and you’d be with him for as long as he needed.
And you were.
Like the absolute best friend, of course you were.
The day after you explained in full, what you witnessed and he stayed at your place for a solid week before he decided to talk to Dana and listen to what she had to say. You offered to go with him but he said it was best you stayed, though he did really want your support but didn’t think it would be appropriate.
It was midday on a Friday when he had the call and he didn’t come back that night.
Or the next.
Or after that.
You had no fucking clue what was said and neither did Peter nor MJ.
Monday morning your mind kept thinking worst case scenarios which had you feeling uneasy as you were walking on campus to your first lecture.
Suddenly you stopped with Peter and MJ following suit at the sight in front of you. Miguel’s arms wrapped around Dana’s with Gabriel standing in front of them laughing at something.
That was the moment you felt your heart shatter into pieces at the realization of what happened.
Your words weren’t enough.
And in his emotional state and her false sweet voice she definitely used, of course he fell for whatever lying words she told him.
Her manipulative and crazy ass didn’t help from the pain this brought you.
He was your best friend.
Falling hopelessly and desperately in love with someone who was once a shy little nerd that would be there everyday for you, to now a man who doubted his best friend’s word for a girl he knew for less than a year.
8 years.
8 years you had known each other and not once ever lied to one another.
All of a sudden in his mind it makes sure that you lied about something as graphic as this.
All of a sudden he believes her words over your own.
Absolutely nothing could’ve prepared you for the way your heart ached and all you felt was hopelessness.
When Gabriel slightly moved, Miguel was now in clear view of you three, more specifically you.
The most vicious glare was all he was giving you meanwhile Dana only had a mischievous smirk on her face which gave you all the confirmation you needed.
Peter shook his head in disgust while MJ grabbed you, making you walk in the direction of your lecture while Peter walked behind you both before stepping up to him and muttering, “The truth will hit you hard one day.”
And boy did it.
Three months after that Miguel was going back to his place to cook a romantic dinner only to catch Gabriel giving Dana backshots on the kitchen counter.
Immediate regret hit him and he realized you were indeed telling him the truth.
He realized Dana’s bold lie that you were the liar, and made that stuff up about her was because you wanted to steal him from her, was indeed not real. That you weren’t deeply in love with him and needed to fabricate the perfect lie to finally steal him.
But before they both left (half dressed), Dana had to let him know that he was the easiest to manipulate out of all her exes. Then that the reality was that you were in love with him, the only lie being just that you didn’t plan anything.
She just hated girl best friends but also wasn’t in the mood for something so serious. She wanted a cop out. A way out.
So she figured you were the easiest target and making up that his other two friends, who she also didn’t like, were also in on it, was the best way to go about it.
The only reason she came back to Miguel was because she grew bored of Gabriel and wanted him back.
And he fell right into her trap.
And there was no way to fix or mend what he so badly broke.
It was far too late.
But at last, you’d never let him break your heart again.
277 notes · View notes
moonficrecs · 10 months
Text
Favourite Series Part 1
🌙 - all time favourite
✔️ - completed series
👩🏻‍💻 - ongoing series
1. Mutual Help by @personasintro 🌙👩🏻‍💻
synopsis: in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it a mutual help
genre: fluff, angst, smut, slow burn, fake dating au
2. Our Time by @taestefully-in-luv 🌙👩🏻‍💻
summary: After an accident and being in a coma for three months, you finally wake. But the last nine years of your life have been completely erased. You rely on none other than your best friend, Jungkook, to help regain your memories and yourself. But what happens when the truth of your missing time starts unraveling and it isn’t all it’s made out to be?
genre: Darker themes, crime au, mystery, fluff, heavy angst, smut, amnesia au. Best friends to ???
3. Clash by @matchagator 🌙👩🏻‍💻
summary: You're a new resident in your very first apartment excited to enjoy the simple life of adulthood. Unfortunately for you, you continue to run into unruly neighbors no matter how much you try to keep to yourself.
genre: Slice of Life | Neighbors
4. Bad Decision by @alphabetboyluvr 🌙👩🏻‍💻
synopsis: ready to make some bad decision?
genre: strangers to friends to lovers - slow burn
5. Long way home by @sparklingchim ✔️
synopsis: jungkook's life makes an 180 degree turn when he's suddenly a single dad and while you're trying to help him come accustomed to the new circumstances, your long-standing friendship takes new turns as well.
genre: single dad jk, boxer!jk friends to lovers, !angst!
6. Day by day by @hansolmates ✔️
summary: a series of drabbles about two best friends raising a child together
genre/warnings: dilf!jungkook x best friend!reader (f) angst, longing, pining, mc is a homebody, unrequited love (or is it?), potential idiots 2 lovers, best friends 2 lovers, but there’s a poopy ex-girlfriend, potential toxic relationship, alcohol use, explicit language, eventual fluff, eventual smut summary; a series of drabbles about two best friends raising a child together.
7. A little taste by @jeonqkooks 🌙👩🏻‍💻
synopsis: It all started with a little oral fixation...
genre: established relationship, mainly smut - everything is basically pwp, some fluff here and there
8. Practice by @chryblossomjjk ✔️
genre: fuckboy!jk x inexperienced reader. m/18+ | college au, fwb, smut, fluff, angst
9. For me by @personasintro 🌙👩🏻‍💻
summary: A collection of drabbles accompanied with dilf!jk
genre: dilf au, enemies to lovers au, neighbors au | fluff, angst, smut
10. All I want by @sxtaep 👩🏻‍💻
synopsis: You fall into the temptation of fucking your best friend, aka the biggest fuckboy on campus.
genre: fluff, smut
11. Always you by @taestefully-in-luv ✔️
summary: You and Jungkook have been best friends since freshmen year of college, there’s a lot of unsaid feelings and tension but neither make a move. what happens when his friend Taehyung (also your crush) needs a fake girlfriend?
genre: friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, roommate au, college au, SMUT (starting ch2), fluff, angst (in later chapters) slight crack
12. Red by @taestefully-in-luv ✔️
summary: You drunkenly sleep with your ex-boyfriend, Jungkook. Can’t be that bad right? Unless he gets you pregnant.
genre: FLUFF, smut, angst:(( pregnancy au
13. Rule #5 by @taestefully-in-luv ✔️
summary: You strike up a fwb deal with your good friend Jungkook after kissing him one night after a dare. But you have rules…5 of them to be exact and it seems Jungkook doesn’t want to follow any of them.
genre: fwb, friends to ???, fluff, angst, smut
14. Runaway by @archivedkookie 👩🏻‍💻
summary: When your best friend's brother, your first-ever crush, offers to help you explore your sexual desires, you just can't refuse. Especially when it's someone as irresistible as Jeon Jungkook.
genre: best friend’s brother au, fwb (they’re not rlly friends tho), 4 years age gap, smut, angst, fluff, slow burn
15. As we were by @archivedkookie 👩🏻‍💻
summary: Your husband Jungkook was your life, your reason to breathe. And when he cheats on you with another woman, it leaves you to wonder parts of yourself you were to afraid to get to know.
genre: divorce au, infidelity au, eventual smut, heavy angst, mutual pining
417 notes · View notes
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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Six Months Since
By Shoshana bat-Yehonatan
A poem for the six (Hebrew) month anniversary of the Simchat Torah Massacre. With thanks to the JPS, Koren, Metsudah, and other translations on Sefaria.org. Footnotes link to sources of quotes. Footnotes connect to sources which will be in reblog, because otherwise it's too long to post.
TW: RAPE
Six months has it been
Since the fields turned red without flowers
Now calaniot bloom where once my darlings danced
But still, my precious ones are gone.
I have no prophets to comfort me
No visions from God [1]
My king remains in exile [2]
How can I sing a song of God on alien soil [3]
In an alien tongue?
Yet I have been too long a stranger in a land not mine[4]—
Two thousand years, to a paltry hundred and twenty—
And I forgotten even how to speak the Holy Tongue
Let alone write in it.
I have neither wit nor words to sing my grief.
And so I turn to those before me
As they turned to those before them
And say,
“God, open my lips, and let my mouth declare my grief.” [5]
Oholiva cries [6]
And Ohola wails [7]
This year was pregnant[8] with a second month of joy
Instead she wails in travails unending
“When will my children return?” [9]
Oh wall of Fair Zion [10]
Shed tears like a river [11]
Cry out in the night and pour your heart out like water [12]
Rachel’s eyes are red as her sister’s [13]
As she weeps over the fate of her children [14]
Six months it has been
Since they ravaged women in Zion [15]
Maidens in the towns of Judea [16]
Since their hands tore my princes apart
No deference shown to elders [17]
On this day six months ago
My infants were taken captive before the enemy [18]
The joy of our hearts was seized
And our dancing turned to mourning [19]
For the youths are gone from their music [20].
Now my eyes shed rivers of water [21]
Over the ruin of my people’s daughter [22]
Bitterly I weep in the night [23]
My cheeks wet with tears [24]
There is none to comfort me: my friends have betrayed me [25]
I cry:
Behold my agony! [26]
My priests and my elders have perished in the city [27]
The elders strewn like dust on the ground [28]
Those whom I dandled and reared my foe has consumed [29]
“This is the day we hoped for! We have found it, we have seen it!” [30]
My maidens and youths have gone into captivity! [31]
“It is your doing.” [32]
Blood on her legs, her nakedness seen, [33]
Zion reaches out for comfort [34]--
“Away! Unclean!” [35]
She can only shrink back and sigh [36]
“May it never befall you.” [37]
The nations have resolved “They shall stay here no longer” [38]
We wander and wander [39]
But where are we to go?
How can I bear to see the destruction of my kindred? [40]
“My life as my wish, my people as my request,” [41]
I begged my Husband [42]
“For we have been targeted, my people and I, to be destroyed, massacred, and exterminated.” [43]
But the King turned His face from me.
My dear ones were purer than snow [44]
Ruddier than rubies or coral [45]
Their bodies lovely as sapphire [46]
Now their faces are darkened with ash [47]
Unrecognizable amid the ruin of the streets [48]
See, God, and behold to whom You have done this! [49]
Look at me, answer me, Oh God! [50]
How long will You hide Your face from me? [51]
I have no prophets now to comfort me
And must take my comfort from those before:
You promised “God will restore your captives.” [52]
Return them, God, and let them come back [53]
Renew our days as of old. [54]
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phantomrose96 · 7 months
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OH FUCK I KNOW WHATS DRIVING ME TO DRINK ABT 938SPS
it's that Mendoza DOES put up with it! It's that everyone's put up with Carson until that single moment! It's that Mendoza nearly went with it! It's that everyone that's ever paired with Carson has been like, wow he's odious. He's the worst. But either not a single thing can be done about it or it never occurs to anyone to do anything about it, especially in conjunction with "well 8 days our time is 41 years, so what is there really to be done?"
It feels like this job would self-select for assholes & people who don't want to deal with problems - it's not like anyone will remember you by the time you get fed up and leave, after all. And where would you go, if you had a problem with a crew member? You're stuck there until you're fed up, and then where do you go from there? It's like the universe's worst cult or something. Everyone that could have talked you out of this is dead in like. 2 weeks time by your reckoning. A month out? Fucking forget it. You're stuck here before it might even hit you that you're stuck, and now the only people alive that could possibly understand you are the other schmucks that signed up for this. Honestly im unwell over this world you very casually built. Barkeep I'd like your finest chocolate milk pronto
(938 Seconds Per Second)
YOU GET IT YOU GET IT YOU GET IT YOU GET IT YOU GET IT.
That tongue-in-cheek thing Mendoza says right at the beginning about "They'll trash your application if you have anyone who could even be mistaken for a loved one" is literally because everyone you've ever known in your entire life will be dead by Week Fucking Two of your first mission.
This job cannot have--as in they WILL NOT TAKE--the kind of person who might get homesick, might miss friends and family they knew, might regret it 2+ weeks into the job at the realization that everything they ever knew is dead and gone and launch into a complete mental breakdown in deep hyperspace traveling 0.99998c where the first pit stop they could even boot your sorry ass at is 200 years ahead of and 200 lightyears away from anything you ever knew.
And you know what? This doesn't just rule out weak-willed or weak-constituted people. This rules out anyone with any human connection. This rules out nearly everyone.
And the only pool of applicants this leaves you with is dangerous. So the best you can do. The best you can select for. Are the subset of applicants who will Put Up With It. And there's no saying what "it" is. You can't expect comradery, or friendliness, or amicability, or respect. Not from a pool of workers defined by their lack of social connection. Not from people willing to take a job which kills everyone they've ever known in 14 days. The best you can select for is people who will just put up with each other. Who will endure.
Dorian is drunk out of his mind 24/7 and stubborn and stupid, but he does his job, and he causes no real trouble, and he endures. Carson fucking sucks but he does his job. Mendoza is probably the star employee of the fleet as a grounded and reasonable man who's simply prickly and anti-social. Sampson is the closest to normal and he's coming apart at the seams, because he's NOT a true shipmate, he's a scholar sent from his dying culture. Everyone he knows is dead and he's so very fucked up about it.
But there's nothing to be done. There's only enduring. Because there is no recourse that can be sought from outside the ship. What greater body is there? Anyone who might hold that power to mediate conflict or dole out justice was born and died in the 2 weeks it took for attempts at self-mediation to fail.
Someone could take a stand against Carson. Someone could get morally fed up with him, and quit in a fit of indignant rage. Give in their notice and walk off the ship whenever the next mission ends. Walk off onto some planet with no one and nothing they've ever known on it and try to start over from nothing.
And the ship would take off. And that person would be dead in 2 weeks' time. Bones on some speck of a planet. Gone. No one on the ship would have any reason to think about them ever again. That could be you, too, if you ever got properly tired of Garret Carson.
There are certain lines that can't be crossed. Killing a shipmate would get you fired. Would get you kicked off, penniless, at the next rest stop planet with whatever local officials exist being informed of your infraction. Once you're OFF ship, then laws, and governments, can apply to you.
But not on ship... Not on ship... and if you're smart--in the unfortunate way that Carson is smart--you can push your luck, right up against that line where no consequences will ever find you. Carson has done nothing fireable. Carson would have continued his days on that ship never doing anything that actually counts as fireable.
It's like the universe's worst cult or something. ...and now the only people alive that could possibly understand you are the other schmucks that signed up for this.
These people have no one going in. They have no one going out. The only human beings even still alive with them are the insufferable assholes stuck with them on the ship. There is no recourse. There is no safety net. There is no justice and no plan except to endure, because the pay is good, because you're being paid for thousands of years of work, and one day you can retire somewhere you've never been with enough money to not have to care that you know nothing and no one.
And until that day, you endure.
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halfusek · 9 months
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Something inky this way comes! The Ink Demonth emerges once again!
The Ink Demonth is a 31-day event dedicated to the game Bendy and the Ink Machine (and other games associated with the Bendy universe). It’s based on daily themes. As long as your creation involves elements from the game along with any interpretation of the respective day’s theme – it counts!
You don’t have to create something for each day, make as many creations as you’d like. However, if you manage to do all 31 of them, you can submit a form to receive a little gift (drawing request)! In the form, you will have to provide a link to each of your posted event submissions (it doesn’t have to be Tumblr, just a site that’s publically accessible!).
Here is the link to the form (it will be opened from September 1st to September 30th):
Tag your creations with #The Ink Demonth and #Bendy and the Ink Machine. It’s important if you want to have your entry reblogged by me, which I’m going to do to everything I’ll see in this tag. (So don’t @ me, just tag it with the event’s tag and the game’s name. It’s possible that your post may not show up in the tags, if you notice that I’m not reblogging your entries for a longer while, feel free to DM them directly to me on Tumblr. My focus will be mainly on Tumblr, I may interact with posts on other sites but it is going to be with whatever I run into, as this event is Tumblr-focused. Feel free to post on other sites too, though!)
(Due to special circumstances in my life I might be especially slow this August with reblogging stuff, so if you notice that I'm not reblogging anything at all, I might just be having a busy day and will get on it when I'm free! <3)
(And, though I think it goes without saying, if I notice a post containing something I consider harmful content, I will not reblog it and will warn the creator of such content that, depending on the case, they cannot continue to take part in the event with content like this or perhaps even not at all.)
Remember to tag only the finished entries, so the tag isn’t clogged with WIPs!
You can create whatever you’d like! Draw a picture! Write a fic! Do a video edit! Take a cosplay photo! Anything you can come up with that is a creative interpretation of that day’s theme!
(Don’t try to „cheat the system”, though – don’t submit a, let’s say, straight line for each day, I will notice this kind of spam and remember: spamming is a terrible sin. You can make an entry that covers a few themes but as long as you don’t create 31 things, the gift will not be granted to you.)
The event starts on the 1st of August and ends on the 31st. Although, don’t worry if you’re too busy in August, late entries are always welcome! (…for reblogging, as for drawing gifts I’m going to give all of you an extra month, so if you’re aiming for that, the end of September is your deadline.) (I usually also give an extra month before for preparing during July but this year I’ve been too busy to make it for July so apologies!)
Why in August? I figured that since August is the month on Joey’s calendar in his apartment and August is the month during which BatIM takes place, it should be the one! 
Please, make sure to tag appropriate trigger/content warnings!
Thank you for taking your time to read this. Reblogs are appreciated in order to get the word out.
Have fun everyone! 💛🖤
You can view the text version of the full month under the cut~
1. Pencil
2. Friendship
3. Creator
4. Choice
5. Benevolent
6. Machine
7. Flow
8. Pen
9. Failure
10. Creation
11. Reason
12. Angel
13. Children
14. Puddles
15. Color
16. Legacy
17. Eye
18. Purpose
19. Ghost
20. Factory
21. City
22. Radio
23. Contraband
24. Keep
25. Cycle
26. Demon
27. Pit
28. Devour
29. Meat
30. Duck
31. Revival
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The Bat Family Timeline and Ages (Post-Crisis and New Earth) with Sources
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Evidence
In Batman: Year One, Bruce is said to be 25 in the January he returns to Gotham. The 1976 DC Calendar puts Bruce's birthday on the 19th of February so Bruce is 26 during his first outing as Batman in April.
Marv Wolfman's Batman: Year Three (Batman vol. 1 #436) tells us that Dick Grayson's parents die in Bruce's third year. In Batman vol. 1 #441 (also by Wolfman) Tim says that Robin started appearing around 6 months after the death of the Flying Graysons. For Dick's age when he becomes Robin, see below.
Bruce joins the Justice League before Dick forms the Teen Titans. Both these teams form before Barbara Gordon becomes Batgirl at 16 (Batgirl: Year One).
Barbara and Dick are each other's dates to their high school prom and so are less than 2 years apart in age (Detective Comics vol. 1 #871).
I suspect Dick, who was an emancipated minor, graduated high school and started college a year early, which allows Dick and Barbara to have some time as the new Dynamic Duo, as we see in Batman Family.
Dick Grayson is 18 when he forms the New Teen Titans, all of whom are also teenagers (Nightwing vol. 2 #137 by Wolfman, who also created the New Teen Titans).
Dick Grayson is 19 when he becomes Nightwing (Batman vol. 1 # 416).
21 year-old Helena becomes Huntress (Huntress: Year One #1), and interacts with Batgirl, meaning that Barbara is not yet Oracle.
Jason dies at 15, 4 months before his 16th birthday (Batman Files). This is before the New Teen Titans' third year anniversary (New Titans #71), before any of the Titans turn 22 (Deathstroke vol. 1 Annual 1), 2 years after Dick becomes Nightwing and almost 10 years before Dick's parents are killed (Batman vol. 1 #436). Dick is hence 21 during these events and 11 when he became Robin.
I also kinda like Dick being 17 years younger than Bruce because that's also the age difference between Adam West and Burt Ward from the 60s TV series.
After these events, Tim Drake becomes Robin and is 13-14 (Batman vol. 1 #441 and Robin II #1)
Soon after, Stephanie Brown is 15 when she becomes Spoiler (Secret Origins 80-Page Giant).
Stephanie is still 15 when she realises that she is pregnant (Robin vol. 2 #59) and Tim is almost 15 during this time (Secret Origins 80-Page Giant).
Cassandra Cain is 17 when she comes to Gotham during this time (Batgirl vol. 1 #1), during No Man's Land which lasts one year.
Helena’s family were killed when she was 8 and during Batman/Huntress: Cry For Blood, Tim says the murders happened roughly 15 years ago, making her roughly 23 during this storyline.
Cass turns 18 in January (Batgirl vol. 1 #39), Tim Drake turns 16 (Robin vol. 2 #116), Jason would have turned 18 in August (Detective Comics vol. 1 #790), and Stephanie is 16 when she "dies" (Batman Allies Secret Files & Origin).
Personally I'd re-arrange Tim's 16th birthday to be the last of these events four events to accommodate him still being 17 late into the Batman: Reborn, see below.
Jason soon returns to Gotham as Red Hood, not long before Infinite Crisis, 52 and One Year Later.
Following the one year time skip, Dick says it's been almost 10 years since his misadventures with Metal Eddie and Liu as a 16-17 year old (Nightwing vol. 2 #133 by Wolfman), which makes sense because he would be 25 by my math.
Stephanie returns from her time as a medical volunteer in East Africa, finishes high school and begins university during Batman: Reborn. She'd turn 19 by the end of this year by my math, which is a typical age to be begin attending university (Gotham Underground and Batgirl vol. 3 #1).
Dick calls Damian Wayne a "10 year-old" before Stephanie attends university (Batman and Robin vol. 1 #2) and Steph still calls Damian a "10 year-old" while she's in her second semester (Batgirl vol. 3 #13 and Batgirl vol. 3 #17). He might have turned 11 before the reboot.
Batwoman: Elegy (Detective Comics #858), during the Batman: Reborn year, shows that Kate was 12 when she was kidnapped and saw her mother and sister killed. This incident is also said to happen "20 years ago”, making her 32 and hence 30-31 during her first appearance in 52/One Year Later.
Tim Drake is still 17 while Steph is in her second semester of her first year at university, and it's stated that he is meant to be in his senior year at high school (Batgirl vol. 3 #13, Red Robin #17 and Red Robin #25). It's possible he turns 18 before the reboot.
Mistakes I Made
Cassandra Cain is 21 in Year Eighteen.
The "Titans disbands" in Year Thirteen was definitely a year early but it's done.
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flufftober · 2 years
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Hello and welcome to our second annual Flufftober 🥳
We’re so excited to be back and to once again have you here!
Let’s fill the month of October with as much fluff as possible 🥰
You’ll find the entire prompt list - as well as a list of prompt substitutes! - at the end of this post so you can easily copy/paste it all. But first:
Rules & FAQ
No inc*st or p*dophilia - we can’t keep you from writing it or creating art for it but it won’t be reblogged.
No hate or ship bashing - we’re all different and we all love different things. As long as it doesn’t go against rule #1, it’s allowed.
Tag correctly! Trigger warnings (including cheating!), ships, ratings, (pure) smut, etc - it’s all fine as long as you tag it.
There’s absolutely no word count restriction, write as little or as much as you like.
In regards to art, anything goes: drawings, paintings, collages, mood boards, gifsets, videos, playlists… the sky’s the limit (though not really…)
While we can’t force you to write fluff or create fluffy art, please try to keep in mind that this is a fluff event 😉
You can start writing and/or arting as soon as you see this - but please refrain from posting before the respective day.
You can participate on as many days as you like, even if it’s just one; you can also create multiple entries for the same day.
NEW this year are our prompt substitutes! These are the five most loved prompts from the previous year, and you can use as many of them as you like instead of five prompts from the original list - or even in addition, that's completely up to you.
It’s okay to write one story/a series for all the prompts as long as it’s separated into chapters and the respective chapter/work is posted on the given day.
You do not have to stick to one ship or even one fandom - switch as often as you like to or even write for multiple ships for one day.
The ship does not have to be a romantic one! Friendship and family feels are more than welcome (but this is not a way to get around rule #1!)
This event can be combined with other events as long as the other event allows it.
Late entries are always welcome, even if it is months later.
All fandoms and ships are welcome - fanon and canon - as long as they’re of age (in case you want to add smut) and not related.
Posting
Posting to tumblr
Please use the tag #flufftober2022
Since tags are sometimes wonky, make sure to also add @flufftober in your post
We will try to catch them all, but please don't be mad if we miss a post or if it gets reblogged a bit late
If you're absolutely certain a post has slipped past us, feel free to send an ask with the link to your post
To make reblogging easier for us, make sure to add the following tags: #flufftober2022 #day [xy] #[fandom] #[ship and/or main character(s)]
If you're using a prompt substitute, instead of #day [xy] tag it as #alt 1, 2, 3, 4, or 5
Posting to ao3
You can add your creation to the collection flufftober2022 or flufftober_2022 (yes, we've claimed both because so many people added to the wrong collection last year 😅)
Late entries are always welcome, on tumblr as well as the ao3 collection! Neither will close - but like last year, reblogs will become less and less and further apart the more months pass...
Prompts
1. Wearing Each Other’s Clothes
2. “You’ve told your parents?”
3. Thick as Thieves
4. Supporting Silly Quirks/Hobbies
5. “Oh no, you’re a Morning Person!”
6. Candles, Lanterns, Fairy Lights
7. Movie Marathon
8. Shooting Stars
9. Game Day (Sports)
10. Love Language
11. Poetry, Art, Music, Craft
12. “You kept this?”
13. Secret Family Recipe
14. Truth or Dare/20 Questions
15. Accidents don't just happen accidentally
16. “I hate you” – “I love you too”
17. Animal Shelter
18. Soulmate AU
19. Hot Chocolate
20. Bedtime Stories
21. Kiss for Good Luck
22. “Have you heard?”
23. POV Outsider
24. All the Hugs
25. First Dance
26. Blankets
27. Reunion
28. Picnic
29. Leaves
30. Dear Diary
31. A Sweet Treat
Prompt Substitutes
Last year, many of you asked for it, this year we're delivering 😊 introducing: Prompts Substitutes!
As explained in the rules, these can be used if there are prompts in the original list that you don't like for whatever reason. No need to explain or apologize for it, simply switch them with one of the five most loved prompts from last year. Or... you know... just add these five to your list of 31 prompts that want to be written 😉
Tumblr media
Alt 1: Slow Dancing
Alt 2: Caught in the Rain
Alt 3: Falling Asleep Together
Alt 4: Up Against the Wall Kiss
Alt 5: Winning a Teddy for the Other
We hope you like these lists, and now
Happy Creating 🥳
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