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#It's Sun he's full of anxiety over everything
foreverisntenough · 3 days
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- YOU’RE MINE -
Summary: While you daydreamed about his face an ocean apart, he had no idea what yours was about to do to him. With a twist of fate and the heat of summer, a new relationship would completely ransack his heart - Everyday heavy with the thought of one another, neither of you were going to let the unexpected love of your life go. You were going to be his, you were his, and you were going to stay his.
Warnings: This series contains fluff, suggestion, smut (unprotected sex,) pregnancy, love bombing, occasionally sad, kind of angsty, alcohol consumption - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!
Note: I hope you like it! THE FINAL CHAPTER 🥺 Start reading ‘Ours’ the sequel of this fic! It will chronical what happens in Trent and Y/N’s lives after this part!
INDEX
Chapter 30 - ‘You’re Mine’
The sun bathed your room in morning light. You yawned and opened your eyes slowly pulling Trent’s pillow over for you to hug. It was early but you had a plan to run to the shops before he got home. You felt absolutely exhausted yet again despite copious amounts of sleep so you hopped in the shower to help yourself wake up. Even just picking up products made your arms ache. Your limbs barely moved so you ended the shower with 30 seconds of cold water. Jesus, did that wake you up. You stared at yourself naked in the mirror before wrapping yourself in a towel. As you looked at your slender frame you couldn’t help but wonder what was going to change. How much would change? You tucked the towel moving on from your introspective questions and washed your face. You started your skincare moving slow through serums and onto a moisturizer, product after product. It felt good to take a moment to take care of yourself. You felt like you had to look good today so this was a good start. Trent probably preferred you with no makeup but makeup made you feel more confident so you did some, applying blush, mascara, all the things that made you feel just the best version of yourself. You moisturized your whole body before spraying a Le Labo perfume you had been loving recently and made your way to the walk in wardrobe. You didn’t know what to wear though so you made a mess pulling everything out, trying to figure it out. You combed through piles of clothes and rack more it felt endless but you were getting tired again. You landed on a light pink sweat set. It wasn’t exactly groundbreaking but it was cute.You didn’t want to be in real clothes and you didn’t really want to be anything close to sexy so this worked. You meticulously cleaned your closet back up, putting each item exactly where it belonged. You grabbed a pair of Louis Vuitton sneakers to throw on before you left the house but needed to pick up the bedroom a little before you headed downstairs. Once you did you slipped on your sneakers and grabbed your car keys to exit out through the garage. You jumped into one of the big blacked out cars in there and made your way into town. To get started on your long list of errands to do to prepare for Trent’s arrival you began at a stationary store then off to the bakery, and into a few more shops. The more things you pulled together the more excited you got. For the first time since you found out you actually were excited to tell him. Although, you wanted to keep the way you told him simple. That was your vibe, calm, easy, so you grabbed a little something you were planning to place the pregnancy test in and some cardstock for a note. You went and got food to eat in hopes for after he took the news well and you snuck off to some more luxury stores for something fun you’d give him a little later but that would be a surprise all depending on what his response was. It felt like your car was full by the time you were heading back home. Trent let you know he was coming home around noon so around 11:30 your anxiety really began to hit. You felt like you were shaking as you held a pen over the nice piece of cardstock you got. You wrote a simple note and left it on the kitchen island for him to find when he came in.
‘Come upstairs, daddy xx’
It was humorous and ultimately would be cute once he found out why you said that. In retrospect, the word was really what kickstarted the whole conversation about the possibility of a baby. It was around 12:15 when you finally heard the front door open. You heard his bags drop by the front door the way that drove you crazy but you pushed it aside for the moment unable to focus on anything but listening to his footsteps deducing where he was in the house. Your heart began to race, your mind shifting into overdrive.
“Babyyy?!” Trent called out loud from downstairs but you didn’t respond. You let him find his way. He eventually went to the kitchen and saw the note. He knew you were home, your car was there, you said you would be so he picked up the card you had left and smirked. In Trent’s mind this was a cheeky welcome home. He read the card as an invitation to go upstairs to have some incredible sex after he had been gone. A sort of congratulations he scored a great goal. It wouldn’t have been the first time you’d done something like this but boy was he wrong. He didn’t even click that the word ‘daddy’ wasn’t even remotely there sexually. He jogged up the stairs eagerly chuckling to himself excited for what was going to happen. His mind was jumping around trying to imagine what you’d be wearing, what he’d ideally want you to be wearing. He felt greedy like a little kid in a candy store imagining all the different bits of lingerie you’d worn over the years. He pulled himself together a little bit trying to act cool and suave before he opened the door. God, he hoped it was that pink one but his hunger was dulled. Everything slowed as he looked into your bedroom. The room was warmly lit, all the lights on, it was clean and organized, cream and white colors that made the space comfy and homey, the bed was made perfectly and to further his confusion there he saw you sat crossed legged on the boucle bench at the end of your bed. You had stayed in your light pink sweats and the soft light almost managed to illuminate you. You picked your head up and thought your heart could fall out of your chest. You gave him a soft but very nervous smile. You couldn’t shake your anxiety but there was a part of you that also couldn’t help but feel a little excited seeing him. Just him being back home was enough to make you giddy but this was a new emotion you didn’t know and it was overwhelming you. You stared up at him trying to fight back tears you could feel building. You almost forgot how beautiful he was, you could only dream your baby looked just like him. That face started to make you nervous about what it would fall to because you were about to change his life. Contrary to what he thought, Trent wasn’t even disappointed you weren’t in some lingerie on the bed to be honest. You looked absolutely ethereal sitting there. His angel. Your one hand hiding a little white box behind your back, the other anxiously pulling at the bottom of some strands of hair. “What’s going on…” he hesitantly asked, stepping into the room. You gestured your head to the side signaling for him to come over to you and so he did. Albeit, incredibly slowly. He stood in front of you looking down. You remained quiet. You thought if you spoke you’d start crying immediately so in an effort to not do that you pulled the box from behind you and handed it up to him. He took it and inspected the blankness of it and then looked back at you inquisitively with a smile. He held the sturdy but small white box wrapped with a white ribbon having no idea what was inside of it.
“Go on…” you managed to quiver out in a whisper. At that moment, you were pretty sure the world stopped turning. He pulled the ribbon untying the bow, holding onto it while he lifted the lid off agonizingly unhurried. You felt your leg start to bounce with nerves awaiting his reaction. You watched his face intently for any sign of emotion. His mouth was agape a little, his eyes batted trying to make sure he was actually seeing what he thought he was. He looked into the box completely unexpressive. Inside the little white box laid a comforting bed of thin white and metallic shredded paper with the positive pregnancy test resting a top of it. In slow motion you watched the box fall from his now shaking hands onto the floor. The neat and carefully filled box now scattered on your carpet.
“Are you serious?” He said sternly with no emotion on his face. You thought you might pass out starting to think he didn’t want this anymore now that it was real but you nodded anyway telling him that this was in fact happening. This was very real.
“There are two more positive ones in there.” You pointed to the bathroom sheepishly. Trent dropped to the floor falling into a crouching position. He squatted leaning back on his heels. With his head in his hands you could hear him start to sniffle and his breath start to deepen. “T… I.. I’m” you tried to talk but honestly you were petrified and had no clue what to say. Should you apologize? But before you could come up with something he picked his head up to look at you. His eyes all wet, he gave you the sappiest closed mouth smile that almost had the look of a pout to it.
“Oh my fucking god, Y/N… Y/N” He whined with the deepest set puppy dog eyes that broke your heart. You could see tears roll down his face, he got on his knees and crawled over to you wrapping his arms around your waist dropping his head into your lap. “Sorry, Jesus” he laughed a little, shaking his head, nuzzling into you. “I just didn’t… oh my god, baby… is this for real?” He whimpered out kissing your covered stomach. You were taking his physical actions as a positive but had to know for sure, his words weren’t exactly concretely assured.
“You wanted this right? Like me pregnant? Like we are having a baby” You cooed, giggling a little. It was the first time you had said that. ‘We are having a baby.’ You felt a few tears roll down your own cheeks as you stroked your hand over his hair comforting him as he clung to you.
“You have no idea baby.” He muffled into your sweatshirt top before raising it some. He beamed looking at you. He kissed the warm bare skin of your stomach. “Holy shit, I’ve never been so happy in my entire life.” He continued kissing you. “This is fucking insane.”
“Yeah?” You kept giggling. He pulled off your stomach and looked into your eyes. He held your hands and squeezed them tightly .
“C’mere” he whispered. You watched his perfect lips you were praying your baby inherited from him move closer to you. His lips pressed into yours. They were warm and soft. Warmth blossomed in your chest. Your lips brushed over one anothers. The smell of him, the smell of home was dizzying. You leaned further into the kiss as his lips felt somehow even impossibly softer than before against your own. You both started laughing in delirium though having to pull away. You let go of his hands and cupped his cheeks holding his face some distance from yours to really look at him. His big brown eyes had fallen into deep pools. You wiped your thumbs underneath them, wiping away the tears that had fallen. He looked at you like no one else in the world existed. Trent stared into your eyes and felt that no one else existed in the world, in fact you were his entire world and he was most definitely yours.
“Gonna take care of you forever. This is unreal. We’re having a baby. Jesus, You're perfect, beautiful.” Trent just kept yapping away stunned and so you let him ramble on and on as his hands caressed all over your body. He picked you up and sat you up on the edge of the bed before he came and crawled over you. You laid back with a big childish smile. He looked down at your face and exposed stomach and his heart faltered. His hands pressed into the mattress next to you letting his arms prop him up over you. He dropped his head to come in for another kiss. And another kiss. His lips feeling absolutely addicting. You started to makeout and his body pressed down onto yours. He didn’t know when he got so hard but you weren’t going to call him out. Things started to heat up but he got nervous. “Can I do this?” He said pulling away from you a little sliding his hands under your sweatshirt over your stomach and up towards your boobs. You nodded with a little giggle. “I promise I’ll be so gentle with you, baby.” He whispered. You could only laugh.
“T... it’s okay, we can.” You looked at him ferociously innocently. He never felt more in love with you. He almost felt lightheaded. He was so happy with the news and then now the fact that you were carrying his child, god, he was so turned on.
“Okay… still gonna be gentle with you though. Precious cargo, no?” You both giggled before you pulled him down to you. The space between you vanished. He pressed his lips to yours. His one hand cupped your cheek, gently as promised. He moved you up the bed and sat back taking his shirt off. Your eyes gazed over every inch of him. He was heavenly looking. His body was just drool worthy but you snapped out of your lust when you caught the soft smile on his face looking down at you.
“Help, baby.” You cooed cutely pulling at your top. You sat up some and he helped you take the sweatshirt and your shirt with it off over your head. You laid back and lifted your hips up some for him to then pull your joggers off. He left you in your bra and panties, which okay, this morning you made a conscious effort to pick a particular good set that you knew he liked. Trent couldn’t help his eyes from racking over you greedily. He couldn’t even count the amount of times he had seen your naked body. It was infinite but this felt like the very first time. It was nothing like the time years ago in New York though, this was different, this was love in its very purest form. He absolutely worshiped your body. It did so much for him before, his brain was confused how you possibly were able to do more I.e. carry his child now but also how it was physically possible for him to be any more attracted to you, and yet here he was. His pupils dilated looking down at you. He pulled his sweats off leaving you with the perfect view of his hardened cock’s bulge in his boxers. Both of your heart rates speeding up. He got on top of you again as you began to kiss more and more, hotter and heavier. He dragged his fingers over your body while he moved away from your kiss to come whisper in your ear. His hands gently slipped into your panties and in no time he was slowly pumping his fingers in and out of you purposely rubbing his palm against your clit rhythmically.
“Oh god T… Trent fuck, baby. T…” You moaned trying to push yourself up into him for more friction, for him to go deeper.
“Keep saying my name, baby. Such a good girl f’me, gonna make you feel so good like you deserve.” His warm breath hit your ear sending a shiver down your spine. And, boy, was he determined to make you feel good. He kissed down from your ear all the way down to your core. He pulled your soaked panties off as he continued with his fingers. His name still falling from your mouth. He worked quickly and buried his face into your wet pussy. His tongue toyed with your clit as his fingers diligently worked in and out of you. You were a mess. You couldn’t think straight but it was all so smooth, so caring, so soft, so intentional. It definitely was intentional, he knew exactly what he was doing when you felt the tight knot in your stomach snap pulsating around his fingers. “Did so good.” He muttered into your pussy. The vibration causing you to flinch at the overstimulation. He pulled his face covered in your slick away kissing the inside of your thighs letting you come down for a moment. It wasn’t long before he was fucking into you nice and slow. He filled you up and you felt every single inch of him sliding in and out of you.
“Baby… I’m so full. Oh my god. I love your cock so much.” You moaned beautifully and he smirked. Your words were starting to almost slur from the amount of pleasure you were in as his hand reached down to rub small circles on your already sensitive clit. Your pussy dripping onto the sheets below you as he continued to carefully roll his hips up into you. Trent affectionately yapped away, continuing to spill out how much he loved you, how good you were doing, how beautiful you were all falling from his lips nonstop as he enjoyed the feeling of you. “I want you to fuck me like this forever.” You babled back words muffled by moans and kisses. Your hands came and gripped onto his muscular arms. Your hands pressed back into the pillows feeling fuzzy, blanking out everything but the feeling of him inside you. “I’m gonna cum, T” you cried out “I’m so close.” You felt the know in your stomach tighten again. Your breathing getting heavier. You moved your hands up to his face pulling him into a passionate kiss and then letting your manicured fingers gripping onto his hair, enough to make him whisper at the sensation.
“Cum for me, baby” he cooed between kisses as his hard cock pulsating inside of you. “I love you so much, baby. Keep fucking me. Doing so good.” Your sweet moaning of his name pushed him closer and closer to his own edge. “You sound so pretty, baby” Trent smiled down at your face. You looked up at him mouth agape, watery eyes and were taken aback by how beautiful he looked above you. God, he really was perfect. He kissed you again. The drag of his cock in and out of you made you each for anything to hold on to. Switching between the sheets, his hair, then to his muscular back. His hand found its way to your tits. he caressed it, playing with your nipple while fucking you.
“Ah T… you feel so good. Too much.” You whined feeling him pressed deeper and deeper inside of you. Slow and languid you said it but you didn't want him to stop at all. He knew that too.
“You’re doing so good. Such a good girl” he praised, starting to feel overwhelmed by the pleasure from your pussy. He was close now. To be fair, he had been close to cumming since he ate you out. Watching you orgasm with his tongue on your clit was just the perfect sight. “Cum with me, baby, yeah?” His movements were getting sloppy compared to the perfect pace he had kept at as his abs tensed. His lips parted in deep breaths as his eyes rolled back.White hot pleasure flashed behind your eyes and Trent’s lips pushed against yours as he fucked you through your high. His hips finally stuttered and he paused letting him cum fill you, making sure every drop of him was inside of you, where it belonged. He quickly resumed pushing his hips into you though with a groan of your name. His cock twitched inside you, spent. It was intoxicating, everything was, the way your arms were wrapped tight around his shoulders. Pulling him close, running soothingly along his skin as he collapsed onto you with a final, fucked-out thrust. He traced his fingers lazily along your side, neither of you having enough strength to bother moving. All is quiet in your little haven, and you could almost fall asleep. You laid stuck to each other's bodies for ages. Trent’s hands continuing to slowly caress your body as you cuddled up to him. Your head rested onto his shoulder. He looked down at you and smiled.
“How did you get so perfect, hmm?” He cooed with his hand coming to rest over your stomach. You giggled and looked back at him. His smile made your heart beat a little faster than it already was. “Just so pretty all the time, it’s insane.” He kept talking while he squeezed your waist. “Going to be the most beautiful mummy.”
“Stop…T” You feigned embarrassment. “Well, you can say goodbye to all this now I guess though.” You drudged out waving your hand over your naked body pressed into his. It kind of stung thinking about how much your body was about to change. You had a lot of issues with your image from the jump so to imagine things changing and potentially getting worse than they were now freaked you out.
“Baby, baby, baby… don’t do that. This is so fucking amazing. You’re going to be beautiful before, during, and after, you’re so fucking beautiful.” He cooed again, dropping his hand sliding down to palm your ass. “Trust me, if anything you’re only about to get even sexier.” He squeezed your ass cheek saying that.
“Yeah, yeah you say that now.” You groaned. “You’re just excited for when my tits inevitably get bigger.”
“I’m not just saying it! I would be lying if I said I wasn’t a little excited for that, you're right….But baby, it’s not about all that. It’s the fact that you’re beautiful for carrying our child, you know how insane that is?” You nuzzled your face into his body hiding feeling a little shy. You laid there while he ranted on and on about how beautiful you were and you listened patiently until he asked you a question. “So what do we do now?” He started to chuckle anxiously thinking about what was next.
“I don’t know, I’ve never been pregnant before.” You joked equally as nervous.
“Same.” He cooed with a straight face. You couldn’t not laugh looking at him. He always managed to be unintentionally funny and simultaneously very cute in serious moments.
“Okay, well seeing that neither of us have been.” You kept giggling and poked at him. “I made an appointment for tomorrow but if you can’t make it, I…” Trent cut you off before you could finish your sentence.
“I can. Baby, I am here for this whole thing. I will be there. I will never not be there. This is the most important thing to me, you are the most important thing to me… this baby is the most important thing to me.” His face kind of dropped saying his last sentence. It was all becoming very real.
“Oh my god like this is mad…” you looked up at him with a scared expression on your face..
“I’m here for you. You’re mine, right baby? Gonna take such good care of you both.” He cooed and your heart shattered at how sweet he was. It was unbelievable you were about to start a family.
“Yeah.. I know” you sheepishly retorted. He held up his pinky towards you and your heart skipped a beat. He was so fucking cute. “Oh so you really mean it, huh?” You teased him.
“Absolutely. You’re mine forever.” You locked your finger around his and he used the moment to pull your arm and subsequently your body to fall into his into a sweet kiss.
“Do anything for you, beautiful.” You pursed your lips and hummed thinking of all the things he already did for you. What more could you possibly want
“Can you hold me closer, T.” You cooed, batting your eyes at him.
“Yeah, he laughed. “I got you.”
The next day you woke up to a large Trent cuddled up so closely on top of you, you could barely breathe and you liked it this way. You had an inkling this was the way this would go. He was going to be so attached to you the second he found out you were pregnant. You slid up to sit against the headboard. He hummed as you moved, clinging to your stomach tighter, pressing sleepy kisses against your bare skin.
“I can’t believe we’re going to be parents… I feel like I’m 18 most days.” You spoke into the quiet room stroking over his hair guiding your hand down to his back to scratch it gently. He purred feeling your nails. He turned his head on your stomach to look up at you. The feeling of his stubble rubbing and tickling you.
“I guess we gotta grow up.” He cooed with a smile.
“Maybe.. we’ll still be cool parents though right, T?” You giggled as your other hand came to pinch at his cheek.
“Yeah, baby. The coolest. Just adding a new baby best friend to the fam, that's all.” He cooed imagining the two of you, the dogs and the new little baby.
“That’s really cute, T.” You pouted thinking about how adorable the sentiment was. The fact that you were really going to have this baby was sinking in moment by moment. He hummed acknowledging you but returning to his task of kissing your stomach.
Your appointment at the OBGYN was later that afternoon so you and Trent got dressed and were ready to head out. He held your hand walking to your cars but looked at you confused when you let go and walked to the drivers side of yours instead of the passengers side of his.
“You can’t drive…” he looked at you and you started to genuinely laugh.
“What? Why?” Shocked, you asked muddied in a laugh. His face didn’t move. “T… I am pregnant, not like unwell.” You tried to reason with him. He just stepped towards you, slipping his hands around your waist. He tucked his head into the nape of your neck, pressing his lips to you.
“Baby… I need you to be safe, can you just come with me? I want to take care of you.” He whispered. He puckered out his bottom lip, giving you his devastating puppy dog eyes. He was committed to convincing you and it almost worked but you were not caving this time. You held your ground against their allure.
“You always take care of me. I am safe. Also, T, be realistic, we can’t be seen driving together going there right now. I want this to be our moment. Hmm?” you cooed. Your hand came to caress his cheek trying to assure him you were okay but also remind him that your pregnancy getting out to any news source or the general public getting wind would be a nightmare and would destroy any opportunity to have privacy for the next 9 months. He finally agreed and you made your way there.
“You’re only about 6 weeks along.” The nurse spoke softly, looking between you and Trent. “If you and your husband want, we can go ahead and schedule the follow up when you’re at 12 weeks. By then we should be able to find out the gender as well.”
“He’s not my husband.” You patted Trent’s thigh.Your words kind of stung him so he placed his much bigger hand over yours pinning it down. Prompting him to lean over and whisper in your ear.
“Not yet, baby.” He cheekily said and it raised goosebumps all over you. Eventually, you looked back to the nurse and so did he. You could see Trent’s brow furrow a little in your peripheral. He was trying to do the math. “Right so she’ll be 12 weeks that’s…” he paused thinking.
“3 months, baby.” You giggled teasing him squeezing your hand above his knee.
“When is it usually most safe to tell people?” Trent asked inquisitively. This was going to be like everything else, he was going to need to know absolutely everything he could. It was incredibly cute and it was incredibly Trent.
“The fetus is typically fully formed after 12 weeks, that tends to be when people feel comfortable but it is up to your personal preference, your discretion what you’d want to do.” The nurse cooed back.
“So in a month and a half, T.” You giggled again looking at his face continue to struggle.
“I’ll get there, I’m gonna like read or I don’t know, will figure it all out.” He babbled nervously. You smiled sweetly at him squeezing your hand again to reassure him just happy he was with you. He didn’t need to be nervous or do any more. He was doing great. He was amazing already. You left the offices and you clung to Trent in the car park. You swayed back and forth in his arms pressing little kisses to his lips. This was scary and new but at least you had him. You finally said your goodbyes; he went to training and you went home. He went the whole day beaming. Everyone at AXA was so confused by his outwardly cheery disposition but he couldn’t not smile anymore now that he knew he was going to have a baby with you. Later that night, Trent came home when you were in the kitchen beginning to make dinner.
“Nah, nah, nah, I was going to make dinner for you, baby.” Trent's voice almost made you jump. You turned around to see him coming down the hallway holding a big bouquet of pink flowers. You rolled your lip at him and ran over to him giving him a tight hug, abandoning the boiling pot of water on the stove. He wrapped you in his arms and kept you there, even as you cooked. When you were finally done cooking you sat with Trent on the couch eating bowls of pasta sitting unnecessarily close. Your legs draped over his lap. His one hand rubbing up your back.
“I think we should keep this relatively quiet for a little, don’t you? I want to make sure the baby is healthy and I want to share some of this time with just you until we let everyone else know.” You babled stabbing your fork mindlessly into some noodles.
“I understand, agree with you, beautiful. I just want you and the baby healthy so we’ll take it slow. Will keep you two close with me. Make sure everything is okay” He cooed, pressing a kiss to your cheek, squeezing your side. The plan to keep it quiet was great except for the fact that you had to continue on with everyday life carrying a massive secret. It was only mere days later when you had to face the task head on. You sat anxiously at an away game down in London next to Dianne and Tyler. They couldn’t possibly have known but you felt like they somehow did know. It was stressing you out the whole game. You didn’t hide much from his family so this felt wrong. As the final whistle blew you milled about and mingled until Trent was able to come out and meet you after. He beelined directly through a group of people to you, wasting no time with niceties to anyone else in the room. He grabbed you by the waist and his thumbs stroked over your stomach in a coy effort to be subtle. He smiled silently and you couldn’t control the way your heart lurched. You’d think over time his charm would lose its effect or wear down but somehow it only seemed to grow. Him being so sweet about the pregnancy was making it continue that way at a rapid pace.
“We’re so proud of you, daddy.” You cheekily whispered, pulling him into a tight hug. You draped your arms over his shoulders. Trent's heart faltered hearing your words. The word ‘daddy’ had carried way too much weight in your relationship lately. Hell, it got you to this very point but it was a little fun to throw it around now.
“This is the best secret I’ve ever had to keep.” He cooed equally as quiet into your ear. “Love you both so much.” You only giggled in return, beginning to quickly look around the room to make sure no one had heard either of you.
After the game, you all went out to dinner in London. You stood waiting at the bar for your table. Everyone ordered drinks. When the bartender came to Trent, he ordered his quick off the cuff before he turned and looked at you for what you wanted. You gave him a knowing look. He raised his eyebrows at you realizing you couldn’t drink. He leaned over the bar and he spoke quietly to the bartender. He returned and handed you a club soda with a lime. Clever, no one would know it wasn’t your usual tequila soda if they didn’t ask. You smiled cheekily and threw him a wink. You started to talk to Tyler as Trent was talking with his mum. His eyes glued to you. You unintentionally turned your back to him continuing your conversation stirring the little straw around in your soda. Trent watched you over his mum's shoulder. Dianne laughed as she tried to hold his attention. He loved how close you were with his family, how you integrated so quickly. He loved how you were with Tyler and Marcel. It was so important to him that you cared about what he cared about.
“She makes you happy, huh, Trenty?” Dianne cooed watching his gaze soften fixed on you. He shifted in his stance not responding to her. The smile on his face was telling her the answer. He moved around his mum slow squeezing her arm to not totally disregard her and started on his way over to you. You felt his hand come from behind and push your hair off your shoulder. You shuttered under his touch. The feeling of his fingers glide over your neck sending a shiver down your spine. You tilted your head to one side to try to look back at him knowing it was Trent. You watched Trent’s lips turn upwards. His eyebrows rising in smug satisfaction at the hearts that filled your eyes. You turned back with a cheeky grin into him. He pulled you to him and leaned into your ear. He started whispering all sorts of filthy things to you. You shut your eyes and licked over your lips. You pulled away looking at him. You weren’t drinking but you were certainly drunk on love, completely smitten and certain he was the man of your dreams.
"Behave yourself” you giggled, slapping at his chest praying no one could’ve overheard him. Tyler ignored you two immediately the second Trent’s hands were on you resorting to return to Dianne. You sat at dinner bashful and happy. It was such a happy couple of days. It was stressful to have to hide this secret but in general, you and Trent were so happy about the win but ultimately the baby. He was already so touchy with you to begin with but the pregnancy was bringing the affection to a new level. You let him have his way, keeping his hands on you the entire meal. You didn’t mind. You liked it. It made you feel safe. Trent was so protective of you. He kept you close to him instinctively but now, he held you closer with a watchful eye on your stomach. It made you melt and gradually over the night, really horny. When you got home personal space wasn't a thing for you anymore. You hugged his arm, squeezing his bicep, walking back into your house. You were all over Trent. Batting your eyelashes up to him, pressing your boobs against his side as you made your way to the living room.
“You’re not subtle…” he laughed as you tried to convince him to fuck you. You didn’t have to do much, in fact you really didn’t have to do anything at all.
“What do you mean, T?” You giggled feigning innocence climbing on top of him as he sat down on your living room couch. Your boobs subsequently teasingly pressed in his face.
“Alright, I’ll bite, baby.” He laughed. His hands started to caress your body and then swiftly to massage your tits. “You’re very convincing.” He teased you but you just gave him a ‘come on’ look because you knew you were. “Did you know you’re very very hot?” He cooed with a cheeky grin. You sat down on his lap and poorly attempted to reign in the horniness that was washing over you. “Like so fucking sexy.” His words didn’t help that effort. His hands kneading your tits brushing his thumbs over your hardening nipples. The more his hands were on you, the more you thought about your body, the way it was aching for him, and then suddenly, rapidly, you felt yourself tense.
“Hey… you okay?” Trent’s hands slowed in you. You felt emotion rush to your eyes. All at once, your feelings of fear about your body about to change massively came over you. One of the things Trent loved about you was your body and it was about to be gone.
“I’m just scared.” You sugarcoated your emotions for him. His hands fell from your boobs and ghosted down your sides before they settled onto your hips.
“C’mere please” he pulled at you and engulfed you in his arms. “Does it make you feel any better if I tell you I’m scared too?” He said muffled into your neck. His hands rubbed up and down your back comforting you when you least felt it. His honesty did make you feel better.
“Really?” You sheepishly asked. He laughed, pulling you off him to really look at your face. He stared into your eyes. You could feel your heart thumping in your chest.
“Baby… this is massive but you know what else?” He cooed, bringing his hand to caress your cheek. You shook your head softly giving him a ‘no.’ “We have each other in this. We’re doing it together. Hmm? You have me forever, sweet girl. I’m not going anywhere.” He spoke, brushing his thumb over your skin. Your heart warmed. He managed to settle your fears for the moment. He was so reassuring that he would never leave you. You could see it in his eyes, you could feel it under his touch. You cuddled into him. He held you close.
“I love you, T.” You gently spoke, squeezing him a little before resting your head on his chest. You stayed there for a while. The feeling of his heart beat started to lull you to sleep. You tried your hardest to keep your eyes open, to stay awake and in the moment but his loving hold making it incredibly difficult. He pressed a kiss into your hair.
"Go to sleep, baby. I’m gonna be right here forever.” He whispered and you nuzzled further into him. The feeling of being in his arms putting you ever at ease. The vibrations of his voice only pushing you closer to falling asleep. Finally your eyes falling closed. When you woke up the next day you were neatly tucked upstairs in your bed. He always took such good care of you, you never had to ask for anything. You shifted your body only to find that you were alone in the big bed. Your legs moving under the covers some before they bumped into something on the bed.
“T…?” You sleepily whispered out. Rubbing your hands over your eyes. You tried to clear your blurry vision to see where he could’ve been. To no avail, your eyes fixed on the foot of the bed seeing what you presumed to be a gift from Trent.
“Oh you’re up! Morning, pretty girl.” Trent muttered out in a hushed tone, his voice cutting into the room as he rushed over to you. He sat on the edge of the bed and handed you a cup of tea. You raised your eyebrows surprised with a tired smile. You scooted up the bed to lean against the headboard.
“Wow… good morning to you. What’s all this, baby?” You chuckled. You reached out and rubbed your hand up and down the arm he had outstretched on the bed to rest on. He shuffled on the bed though to come sit next to you. He grabbed four boxes and pulled them into his lap. He wrapped his free arm around you, smushing a kiss to your cheek. He pulled you a little closer to him before plopping the first box over on your lap. It was an ambiguously wrapped box so you gave him a curious look.
“One for you.” He cooed and you giggled.
“What’s this for?” You asked pausing before opening the gift: he shot a stern glare back at you so you continued on. You peeled off the paper and saw a familiar orange box you knew well. You opened it slow. It was a pair of Hermes Finesse diamond earrings. You bopped your head back and forth with a big cheesy smile on your face staring at them.
“So pretty, T.” Grabbing his face for a quick peck. You placed the box down onto your comforter after inspecting them for a little while. He plopped the next box in your lap. You rolled your eyes at his childish rough nature so early.
“One for the baby…” he said softly rubbing his hand over your stomach. It was a much larger box than the last. You opened it slow again to find another orange box. You smiled lifting the lid to see an adorable Hermes teddy bear. You pouted your lips at him. You felt like you were gonna cry before he plopped the next one on you, stopping your flooding emotions. “Keep moving along, baby. Have more to open.” He laughed, waving his hand to continue. “For you.”
“You know the baby seems to be getting bigger presents than me, is that how things are going to be?” You teased squeezing his arm. It was his turn to roll his eyes at you. You opened a third orange box. You unlatched a jewelry box to see three stackable rings.
“One for each person in our family now.” He looked into your eyes. You melted thinking of him picking out something so thoughtful. You slid them on and held up your hand to look at the three rings wrapped around your slender finger.
“I love them… I love you.” You collapsed your head onto his shoulder wrapping your arms around his waist.
“You like them, baby?” He spoke before pressing a kiss into your hair. You nodded as he slid the last box over to you. You peeled the paper again slowly to reveal the final orange box. “One more for them” you opened the lid taking your time and your heart slowed. You felt the room close in. You stared down at a cashmere Avalon blanket. You took it out of the box to get a closer look at the detailed lettering embroidered ‘Baby Alexander-Arnold’ That was the tipping point for you. The tears started pouring out. “Oh. C’mon shhh.” Trent pulled you into him. He squeezed you so tight.
“I love you.” You sniffled out. He hummed. You stayed like that for a while. “Wait, wait, actually I got you something too! I didn’t know when to give them to you but now seems good.” You scrambled out of bed messily. Trent laughed at your sleepy body moving without the grace you usually carried.
“Baby, didn’t have to get me anything.” He said as you ran into the wardrobe hearing his voice fade getting further from him. You came out with three bags giddily and jumped on the bed playfully. You took his hands in yours after placing the bags in between you. He gave you a disapproving look for buying him anything.
“Just open it! Please!” You begged childishly pulling on his arm. You shoved one bag over closer to him. He reluctantly grabbed one bag. “Hold on! This one first!” You swapped the bags and he shook his head. He ruffled through the bag and pulled out a baby Liverpool kit.
“Nah… honestly.” He held up the top and turned it around to see ‘daddy’ written across the back with a 66. He looked at you with a sappy smile. Trent felt like this was the first time he really felt like a dad, like this was not only just a baby but his kid. You pecked his lips unannounced. You couldn’t look at the tiny jersey the put getting excited. The idea of bringing your baby to their daddy play was a dream and you knew Trent felt the same. You pushed the next bag at him. He fumbled through the bag again and pulled out a pretty chic, in your opinion, black Prada baby bag. “It’s actually really good.” He laughed unexpectedly, pretty impressed with it. You felt a little relieved he wasn't freaked out by the baby-centric gifts. You picked up the final bag and placed it in his lap. He pulled out a matte all black Prada football. His eyes widened and a big grin pulled across his face.
“Cool dad, no?” You giggled as he threw the designer football up and down. You stopped him when you pulled his face to yours with his cheeks in your hands. His laugh breaking out mid kiss halting it.
“Massively. Thank you, baby.” He cooed muddied in giggles, pressing a kiss to your lips. You hummed. You sat in your bed surrounded by spontaneous baby gifts. You stroked your hand over his high cheekbones. There was nowhere else you should’ve been. This is where you belonged; with your Trent; and that’s just what he was… yours. Trent’s words cut off your moment of reverie. “Not just for these. Thank you for giving me our child.” He spoke softly, rubbing his hands up your sides.
“Ours” you whispered sealed with a kiss.
Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you thought of the chapter / series … 🤍 This was so fun to write and I really hope you enjoyed it.
Go read the first chapter of the sequel series ‘Ours’ xx
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kakusu-shipping · 1 year
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Cradle ships aren't usually my thing, but the idea of Sun dating one of the regulars at the daycare might be winning me over for real. Usually the potential predatory aspect squicks me but there's no way Sun fun would even begin to process it that way he just really likes this funky lil guy that finger paints with him and eventually gives him a little smooch... my heart (no shade to cradle shippers who like predatory dynamics! <3)
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Just a funky little guy and his ambiguous caretaker/lover.
#Emile's Arts#Sun#Cradle Ship#Thankyou very much anon for the ask I'm glad we can be your exception#My personal favorite side of cradle ships is when the older is agonizing over it#Like 'Oh god oh fuck I'm an evil awful horrible person for having feelings and thoughts about this child'#While said child is like 'I love them Duh like it's not hard man.'#I think it's funny#Favorite way to problematic ship is make it funny#I fully ignore the 'predatory' part of big age gap ships that part doesn't interest me at all the grooming the manipulation#It's boring I want a grown ass man on his knees in angst over falling in love with a toddler just for said toddler to give him a bandaid#There there pat his head and all that#It's funny it's cute it's my ideal I adore it#So while Sun isn't 'predatory' in this self ship at all he isn't like. Chill with it#It's Sun he's full of anxiety over everything#My description of his emotions is he was programed to 'Love Kids' and said program may have been a little.. faulty#I also hc Freddy got the same faulty programming and maybe Chica idk yet#And he knows it's WRONG but it's IN HIS PROGRAMING#so he's on the fence about if it's Romantic or Parental love he feels for me#Meanwhile I a whole 4 years old who doesn't know the subtle differences in love is very solid in my thoughts#I love Mr. Sun he is my caretaker and one day I will marry him#Because kids don't know man??? I think that's adorable.#Thankyou for asking#Thankyou very much again for this ask gave me an excuse to doodle Sun
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chuunai · 11 days
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Dazai kisses you with the reverence of a worshipper. He’s eternally grateful that such a filthy, lowly demon such as himself received the affections of such an angel. His morning and nighty rituals begin and end with the same event—kisses all over your holy body, from the tips of your toes to the top of your head. They’re chaste and fleeting in the beginning, afraid to defile and corrupt you. But oh, he craves to hear the delicacies of your gentle hums and moans when he gets too messy later on and leaves a pretty mark. He knows mere mortals shouldn’t get too close to goddesses, but he can’t help but follow icarus’s steps and hope to touch the sun, you.
Chuuya kisses you like a man drunk in love. Your lips replace the bottle he used to seek comfort so often from, and the taste of red wine could never hold a candle to the taste of you. And not unlike the glasses full of alcohol, he finds himself asking for just one more kiss. They’re bold and clear to the point that he has given himself to you. He’ll proudly kiss the ground you walk on with the same energy he kisses you. He’s lost so many people in his life, and the one thing he wants is to keep you and your kisses all to himself. The finest wine deserves a knowledgeable man who won’t break the bottle.
Fyodor kisses you with the delicate touch of an artist. Every imprint of his lips on your skin is carefully arranged in an ethereal collage of devotion and intimacy. There’s no overdoing it or under-doing it, it’s the perfect amount. His words are always coated in sugary lies and webbed subsidiary secrets, and he opts to express his love through affectionate gestures such as a mere kiss. Being a man of God, naturally he strays away from anything too provocative and heated. Except sometimes in the dead of night, he thinks of Eve and the apple. He shouldn’t have you, no, but he can’t resist forever.
Sigma kisses you like he’ll lose you. The three years he has known this world has only taught him pain, anguish and anxiety. He’s so inexperienced, and he’s afraid that inexperience will frustrate you to the point of leaving him. There’s a bit of everything in a kiss with him, some tongue (he read about it online on a WikiHow article of how to kiss), the shaky hand on your cheek and hip and so much idolization. You lead most of the kisses by proxy, and he lets you. It’s okay if you use him like a toy. He’ll gladly be used as long as you don’t leave.
Nikolai kisses you with all the wild passion he can muster. The lipstick he wears smears across your skin, painting your Cupid’s bow red. Mutters of ‘pretty thing’ and ‘fucking delicious’ leave him with each deepening kiss. It’s a pity he’s thought about setting you free from this world during such a moment. Your heart bleeding around the knife, wails and whimpers of pain muffled by his lips while he guides you through the end of life. The last remnant of the chains holding him down would be gone if your kisses weren’t so hammering onto his soul. Every peck and smooch only solidifies his connection to you and this universe.
Tags: @twst-om-lover, @briars-castle, @little-miss-chaoss, @sinfulthoughtsposts @starrs20
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euphoricfilter · 1 year
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Stardust || JJK
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Pairing: Jungkook x F. Reader
Genre: Fluff || Smut || Friends to Lovers au
Summary: If Jungkook would have known an unintentional orgasm would have led to this, then he would have begged you to work out with him sooner.
Word Count: 5.5k
Tags/ warnings: himbo-ish jk, so much fluff idk where it came from, smut in the forms of: unintentional masturbation turned coregasm, oral (f. receiving), fingering, protected sex (because that’s really cool), mirror sex, doggy style, technically multiple orgasms, they’re both giggly and in love it’s kinda gross, jk is a tits man, he’s obsessed with boobs, it’s all very tame and kinda soft ig
Notes: yay first fic of 2023. this was way harder to write than i’d anticipated, hopefully i pulled through. and if there’s mistakes, no there aren’t!
<3 thank you to my prettiest baby @4amj3zz for reading this atrocity before i posted it
my full masterlist
✯ ✯ ✯
If every living being’s foundation is made of stardust, scattered when born, then Jungkook thinks the two of you were made from the same star.
A friendship that’s near impossible to come by, crafted by the hands of a higher being— delicate fingertips moulding fickle personalities and emotions that seem incomplete when not together. Two angels sent to earth to be each others’ number one in another life they’ll spend together.
Precious, like naturally formed diamonds.
And maybe that’s what your friendship was, one of the world’s little treasures. One everyone yearns for, though only a select few have.
Sure, diamonds can be replicated, graphite turned jewelry, simply there for show. A statement piece if you must.
Fake diamonds and fake friendships that seem to be more common than the real deal. Hard to crack, though not impossible— splitting the two of you up into pitiful shards and lost pieces; where even the most skilled hands have trouble putting it back together.
Jungkook doesn’t remember life before you. Though he thinks it must have been dull, flimsy smiles, and friends that hadn’t bothered to call once they moved away.
His existence so easily forgotten, that the gnawing sadness didn’t seem to last as long as he’d anticipated. Simply walking the path of life alone, though he often thought solitude wasn’t all that bad.
Until your worlds had collided. The big bang of your friendship, a new world, a new start, everything so fresh and untampered with.
He’d thought about what life would be like if one day the two of you were to ever part ways, the very thought of you not being by his side like a harsh punch the gut.
And maybe he had gotten a little teary eyed on those evenings he felt a little softer, a little sadder at the thought of you ever leaving. His hands fumbling around his sheets for his phone, your voice his only remedy for his growing anxiety, where promises were whispered and sleepy smiles remained on your faces as you rested.
Jungkook doubts that day will ever come. And maybe that’s all just wishful thinking, a juvenile dream that the promise you’d made to one another would hold strong for the rest of time, until the two of you lay six feet under. Resting side by side until your bodies rot, flesh becoming one with the earth, what is left of your existence blossoming into something beautiful; perhaps a tree, a flower, truly anything, as long as you were together.
“Together?” you blink up at Jungkook through your lashes, eyebrows creasing in distaste.
Jungkook thinks you look pretty in that moment, even if you are pulling a face at him. The two of you sat at a bench in the park, your head haloed by the setting sun, last of the days warmth kissing both your skin in a gentle goodbye before the moon watches over the two of you.
Littles galaxies reflected in both your eyes, where Jungkook thinks each star in his represents one thing he loves about you; hidden behind the moonlight because he doubt yours represent the same.
“Yes” he nods, hair flopping a little over his forehead, and you push the stray strands out of his eyes. Fingers delicate as they brush over his skin, always so gentle with him that his heart flutters like the delicate wings of a butterfly.
“Kook, I love you— you know I do” and he nods, lips quirking up a little, “But working out just, isn’t for me” you conclude, tone firm and his shoulders deflate. Because he knows it’ll take more than glossy puppy eyes and a pout for you to give in.
“First off, I love you too—“
“Thank you” you nod. But Jungkook doesn’t think you understand the weight behind those words.
“And look, how do you know it’s not for you, if you’ve never tried?”
“You put me off” and Jungkook would have thought you were joking if you didn’t have that deadpan look on your face. One he was all too familiar with.
“Huh” he gawks, “How?”
“You always complain about sore muscles, and the thought of being sweaty grosses me out” your head tips forward dramatically, cushioned by your arms from the table.
“It’s a good ache” he watches you turn your head, lips moulded into an unconvinced pout as you stare up at him through your lashes.
“There is no such thing as a good ache, Jungkook”
“Is too”
“When?” you flail, unbothered as Jungkook’s hands wrap around your wrists.
“Sex ache”
You pause, “Excuse me?”
“You know?” he cocks his head to the side.
“No” you shake your head in utter disbelief.
Jungkook’s mouth falls open, “You’re a little pillow princess aren’t you, I bet you don’t do any of the work”
“Do too, besides—“ you swallow, “It’s none of your business” you pull your hands free of his grasp.
“Come on, I feel like we’re at a point in this relationship we can share these things” his cheek rests atop of your head, each syllable pulled out into a whine.
“I don’t wanna hear about your sex life, Jungkook” you huff.
You watch him sit up ramrod straight, brain whirring behind his eyes. You think that if he thought any harder you’d be able to hear the echo of his voice.
“Actually, I don’t really wanna hear about yours either” his nose scrunches up, melting your resolve.
A secret charm of his that he didn’t know he had; and you’d never tell him either, no way in hell would you let him weaponize your weakness against you when your heart could barely stand being sat so close to him.
“Best friends don’t always share everything” you quip, only it leaves a tangy taste on your tongue.
“I suppose” Jungkook nods, evidently less enthusiasm radiating off him.
Best friends. It always wet your mood. Like sour candy that’s too sour, or a cute dog that’s breath smells like a rotting carcass.
But that’s what you were, introductions to new classmates or new lovers; it was always best friends. Two simple words that felt like utter shit to say, tumbling past your lips like vomit and then you had to rawdog the aftertaste because you don’t have any toothpaste or mints nearby.
Never anything less, even though there was definitely a lot more going on between the two of you. (Not that either of you had any idea about that.)
It’s a wonder as to how neither of you had grasped the fact that every previous relationship the two of you had, had ended because of the other. Nothing ever seeming to fit in place, the click never being there when it came to someone else.
Communication is key in upholding a relationship of any kind, issues easily resolved with hours of conversation turned mutual understanding, and progression made with a mix of both actions and words. As two people whose love languages were physical touch, the former is just as important as the latter.
One of the only reasons your friendship has lasted this long, is that you both value each other enough to communicate when necessary.
Apart from when you could probably really use it, unidentifiable emotions weaving into your hearts, mixed with a dose of denial can really set you back when you’re near infatuated with your closest friend.
It’s not that either of you had never considered a relationship with one another, others outside your little bubble had brought it up enough times that the meager possibility of it actually happening had been cemented into your thick skulls.
Something nice tickling both your brains at the fact so many people thought you were together together; like, in love together.
Long gone were the days where you’d blurt out your denial to dating accusations with rose dusted cheeks, simply believing the world had a thing against opposite sex friendships. Now, the two of you just laughed off whoever liked to comment on how good you looked as a couple. (Which had brought more than a few of Jungkook’s relationships to turmoil)
It’s just that neither of you believed the other wanted anything more than friendship. A rookie mistake on both your parts, especially when you’d both establish that every and all emotions were to be discussed with one another, no matter what you felt.
“One time” you break the silence, any way to ease the growing tension between the two of you “I’ll work out with you one time. And never again”
You watch the smile as it pulls at the corner of his lips, the prettiest smile, your favorite smile, enough of a reward for whatever pain you’re about to put yourself through. Because as long as Jungkook was happy, then you’d crawl to the ends of the earth if it meant you got to see this smile one more time.
“I love you” he bends down, sloppy kiss pressed to your cheek and you can’t help your own smile, heated cheeks covered as you swat him away from your face. Wiping his saliva from your skin with the back of your hand.
“Whatever” you tut, though Jungkook sees through your faux annoyance.
“We can use my at-home gym as well, so we won’t even be in public”
“Wonderful. Let’s go back now, I’m gonna freeze my tits off if we stay any later”
You don’t catch Jungkook’s gaze flickering down to your chest, lingering a little longer than proper before he’s slinging his zip-up hoodie around your shoulders. Eyes flickering down to his hands briefly before he’s knocking shoulders with you.
“Chivalry isn’t dead” you utter, falling into Jungkook’s side when his arm falls over your shoulder.
✯ ✯ ✯
Jeon Jungkook was sex on legs when he worked out.
You were no stranger to him training, countless vacations together, where the morning was spent with him doing press-up on the balcony or the occasional few times he’d bench-press you for a laugh.
You’d never found it funny though, pussy throbbing between your thighs as he’d grab onto you, arms flexing deliciously. And he never seemed to question why you’d lock yourself up in your room after, purely a coincidence that you’d disappear for an hour after his little stunt.
You were no stranger to a half naked Jungkook either.
Nor were you a juvenile teenager whose panties got in a twist when she saw a toned stomach.
However, this wasn’t just any toned stomach.
Jeon Jungkook was built like Adonis. Carved where every crevice had meaning and every flaw only enhanced his beauty. And it’s hard to think the bushy haired, acne prone teen boy you’d first befriended had turned into this.
If puberty had benefited anyone, it was Jungkook.
“We’ll do something easy today, okay?” he claps and you nod, watching as he saunters over to a basket.
“Pink or blue” he holds up two yoga mats.
“I didn’t think you were into rhinestones” you snort, sun catching on the bedazzled rim of the pink mat— streaks of pink painting the wall.
Jungkook drops said mat, chucking you the blue one before he’s dropping to his knees on the floor.
“It’s one of my exes” he tells you, motioning for you to sit.
If people were flowers, then this is the moment you would have wilted. Deflating in on yourself; it’s not that you were jealous per-say. It’s not like him and his ex were dating at all but still. The very mention of her was enough for you to roll your eyes.
“And you didn’t throw it out?” the words hurdle out your mouth before you can even think about what you’re saying.
“No?” his eyes meet your own, “I’m not throwing away good gym equipment”
You sigh, somehow expecting no less from him. Jungkook was a man of many skills, and he’d hounded you to try hobby after hobby with him— but nothing got him going like a good work out. If all other passion in life disappeared then he would still have working out as his escape.
You sigh, “I have somewhere to be later, so let’s hurry this up” a little white lie, but that never hurt anyone.
“You’re not going on another one of those shitty blind dates, are you?” he groans and you whine.
“I told you, I’m never going on any of those ever again”
“You better not” he unrolls his mat, and you follow.
“Or what?” you turn your nose up at him and Jungkook’s foot collides with your thigh.
“On your back, you brat.”
✯ ✯ ✯
“How much more” you flop against the mat, eyes closing.
“That was only the warm up” Jungkook hums, pushing himself up off the floor.
You hear him walk to the other side of the room, cupboard door creaking open as he rummages around for something.
You peek up at him through your lashes when he throws a towel over your back.
“Roll that up” he motions towards it, coming to sit beside you, “And up onto your back again”
Your eyes widen by a fraction when he gently takes the towel out of your hands, pushing your knees apart before he’s closing them; towel stuffed between your thighs.
Your gaze travels down the length of your body, thighs twitching as Jungkook’s fingers wrap around your ankles.
“All you have to do is raise your legs like this okay?” and he demonstrates, making sure to keep your legs straight as he lifts them to a ninety degree angle from your torso. “Leg raises should be easy, even for you” he hums.
“What’s that supposed to mean” you snap, ready to push yourself up, except Jungkook’s hands press down over your chest.
“Hey! No complaining”
You swallow thickly, aware of Jungkook’s eyes on you as you raise your legs on your own this time.
“Pretty good, remember to tense your core when you do it, okay?”
You nod, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you do as you’re told.
Your eyes squeeze shut, body hyper aware of each small movement the towel has right over your clit. Pussy throbbing inside your panties and you worry your slick had started to soak through your shorts.
Jungkook doesn’t seem to take notice of your growing predicament, hands hovering over your calf to make sure you’re raising your legs all the way. Though that’s the least of your worries as you feel each new wave of unadulterated pleasure pulse through your core.
“Not so bad huh?” he grins.
It’s a strange sensation, pure arousal ebbing up your body, every brush of your panties over your clit, weight of the towel over your slit slowly bringing you to the precipice of an orgasm.
“I don’t think—“ you start, cutting yourself off with an arm covering your face at a particularly intense wave of arousal. Your stomach tightening at the feeling.
“Just a few more, you’re doing great”
“Kook, I really don’t think—“ your hand clamps over your mouth as Jungkook’s fingers take hold of your legs, helping you raise them; and that’s all it takes to tip you over the edge. And you can’t help the surprised moan that drips off your lips.
Your knees bend, nudging against your tits as your hand falls over your sodden pussy, dull wave of your orgasm throbbing throughout your body.
Jungkook looks down at you, eyes wide as you simply lay there with your hands between your legs.
“Did you just piss yourself?” he asks, mouth falling open in awe.
“What the fuck?” you cry, “I just came you idiot”
Jungkook’s cheeks flush red, “Oh” he nods, “Oh. You had a— holy shit”
“Don’t look at me like that” your eyes glaze over with tears, heat prickling up your body in embarrassment, “I didn’t mean to, it just happened”
Your feet fall to the floor, towel falling from between your thighs as you let out a stuttered breath, body still buzzing with the after affects or your surprise orgasm.
“Jungkook?” you peek up at him through hooded eyes, heart pattering so hard in your chest you could feel it in your throat.
Jungkook’s eyes meet your own, “That was so fucking hot” he groans, “Looked so pretty”
You watch as his hand rubs over his shorts, his own arousal hard to hide as his head tips back in a way that extenuates his neck.
“Huh?” your eyes widen, willing yourself to not look at what his hands were doing.
“Should have known something like this would have turned you on”
“I wasn’t even turned on” you exasperate, “I clenched my core like you said and it just happened”
“Mhmm” and you can tell he’s unconvinced.
“Stop rubbing your dick, you horny piece of shit” you clamp a hand over your eyes, thighs clenching when he lets out a deep groan.
“Can’t help it” he lets out a sigh, “I’ve been dreaming of what you’d look like when you came, shame it wasn’t on my cock”
Your hand falls from your eyes, “Dreaming?”
“God, haven’t I made it obvious?” he asks, his own hands falling to his sides, though now you have a full view of his straining erection.
“Made what obvious?” you whisper.
“That I like you” he asks and you gawk at him.
“You, like me? I’ve been trying to hint that I like you” you point at him, mouth falling open in disbelief.
“Huh?” it’s Jungkook’s turn for furrowed brows, “I swear you didn’t like me”
“I could have sworn you didn’t like me”
Jungkook snorts, “When did I ever say that?”
“You’re unbelievable”
“Me? What about you?”
Your body lays flaccid, muscles loose; heart hammering in your ears as Jungkook leans back on his hands.
“How long?” you ask, not daring to look up at him.
“High school”
You push a palm into the socket of your eye, low groan rumbling up your throat, “I’ve liked you since, I don’t know, probably high school as well”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks, voice soft and you can feel yourself tearing up— so many emotions plaguing your mind at once you don’t know how to feel.
Jungkook scoots closer to you, “I could say the same thing about you” you huff.
“Why’re you crying” he frowns, thumb gentle as it brushes against your damp cheek.
“We wasted so many years. I seriously thought— you’ve had so many girlfriends”
“Because I thought you didn’t feel the same, I guess I thought my feelings would go away if I gave my heart to someone else. And then you started dating around too and I really thought I’d never have a chance”
“Me too” you sigh, nose scrunching up in distaste for all your failed relationships.
“Guess it didn’t work out for either of us huh?” he hums and you nod.
“I think we’re both stupid” you murmur.
And Jungkook nods, “I agree”
“What do we do now?” you push yourself up onto your elbows, frown on your face.
“Can I kiss you?” Jungkook’s head hovers over your own, the sun meeting the moon at the same point in the sky— your eclipse. The rest of your world suddenly shrouded in darkness, all you can see, think, smell, everything just Jungkook.
You nod, eyes flitting across his face as his arms cage your head. You can see his biceps flexing in your peripherals, thick muscle straining under the weight of his torso.
Jungkook’s lips hover over your own, a breaths width away from touching. You tilt your head up, pillowy lips cushioning your own and that’s when everything falls into place.
There’s nothing desperate about the kiss, ever so gentle and slow, the two of you aware that lost time can be made up in the future as you simply bask in this moment; your worlds aligning, tilting on the same axis, everything just perfect and right, and your hearts beating in sync, and breathing stuttered as you both pull away with hesitance.
Your hands cup Jungkook’s cheeks, eyes searching his own for anything, just something to tell you this wasn’t all a dream— that he really did like you back.
“You’re so pretty, you know?” he whispers, his lips pressing a featherlight kiss to the corner of your lips.
“No” you smile, giggle bubbling up your throat and Jungkook can’t help but grin down at you.
“I’ll tell you every day, all the time. You’ll get sick of me”
“I could never get sick of you, Jungkook” you push yourself up onto your elbows, noses bumping.
He tilts his head, kiss firm, and you moan as his tongue licks at the seam of your lips, a silent plea for access.
You oblige, arms slung over his shoulders as you bring his body closer to your own, heat radiating off the two of you in thick waves.
“You taste so good” he groans, hands wandering down your body, teasing as they pull up the hem of your hoodie, “Want this off”
Your fingers tug at the offending material, dragging it up your body, “Hang on” you pull away from the kiss, and Jungkook feels his cock twitch at the sight of you. Red swollen lips, a sheen of his saliva coating them.
You pull your hoodie over your head, throwing it somewhere, a problem for later. Thighs clenching as Jungkook stares down at you— eyes wandering.
“And this” his fingers skim over the edge of your sports bra, dancing over your skin, mapping you out of every little spot he wants to kiss.
You hesitate.
“We don’t have to do this if you’re uncomfortable” Jungkook’s smile is gentle, retracting his hands and you want to whine at the loss of contact.
“I want to” you tell him, hoping the shake in your voice didn’t sound too unconvincing. The incessant throbbing between your legs wouldn’t go away unless Jungkook helped you out and your patience was slowly wearing thin.
“But?” he urges.
“I’m nervous” you admit and he smiles; reassuring.
“How can I help?”
You squirm under his gaze, fizzling embarrassment painting your cheeks red, “Can we both—“ you cut yourself off with a whine.
“Come on, gotta use your words, my love”
“Can we both get naked” you splutter, “At the same time?”
Jungkook’s head falls back, fully belly laugh wracking through his body, “Of course”
You tug your shorts off, Jungkook following you; a pile of both your clothes laying forgotten by your head. You’re too distracted tugging your sports bra off to see Jungkook’s length slap against his stomach. Tip of his cock an angry red, his fingers barely touching his shaft as he closes them around the length.
“Oh” he croons, “How pretty. Can I touch you?”
You nod, falling onto your back.
Jungkook’s careful as he touches you, thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples, testing the waters as he tugs at them, eliciting a breathy moan from you.
“Feels good?” his voice low, and you nod; hips involuntarily bucking upwards when you finally cast a glance at his length. Eyes widening a little in awe.
His fingers dig into your flesh, and he bends down, lips closing around one of your nipples. Your back arches, mouth falling open in a silent moan as his teeth nip at the sensitive skin; tugging in a way that sends warm pleasure straight to your core.
He kisses over your chest, lips worshipping your skin, fingers skimming over the underside of your boob.
Each gentle press of his lips are searing as he works down your body. And your breath hitches as his hovers over your pussy, folds glistening with your arousal.
“Oh baby” he groans, and your thighs twitch as his warm breath fans over your core.
Your fingers tangle into his hair, impatient as they tug him closer to where you need him; an embarrassed whine falling past your lips when he kisses over you clit, once, then twice.
“Jungkook” you squeak, legs tensing when he finally wraps his lips around it, tongue flicking at your clit meanly.
He simply hums, vibrations sending a new wave of pleasure straight through your body, another gush of wetness dribbling from your hole. Jungkook wastes no time, fingers scooping up your leaking arousal before he’s pushing them into you.
“Oh” your chest stutters a breath as he pulls his fingers out of you, tongue licking a broad stripe over your cunt before his thumb brushes over your clit.
“You like that?” he asks, though the question was rhetorical as he repeats the motion. Tongue teasing over your hole before he’s lapping up your slick; sucking at your folds, squelching lewd accompanied by each hearty moan.
Your thighs start to shake, clamping around Jungkook’s head though that barely deters him, as he pushes your legs open by your knees.
“Stop. Kook— please” you whimper, “wanna cum around your cock”
That catches his attention, and with one final kiss to your clit he’s pushing himself onto his elbows.
Jungkook looks like the epitome of sin, slick stained chin and swollen red lips, unashamed as he licks your arousal off his face, humming in satisfaction as your chest stutters out a breath.
“Lemme get a condom” he murmurs, lips pressing another kiss over your knee before he’s pushing himself to stand. Your eyes follow his body, heavy cock bobbing against his stomach with every step he takes.
“Hopefully they’re not expired” he calls from the other room, and you giggle at that, “We’re good” he flashes you a grin as he drops back between your legs; foil wrapper held between two fingers.
You watch his fingers run down his length, thumb brushing over his slit and you feel slick dribble out of your hole as a bead of pre-cum coats the head of his cock shiny.
“Please” your head tips back, hands impatient as they tug at your nipples; Jungkook completely entranced by the sight. “Hurry, hurry” you nudge his thigh with your foot, and albeit reluctant, he tears his eyes away from your tits.
He rips the condom open with his teeth, a cheesy attempt at seducing you, and you weren’t about to tell him all he had to do was breathe and you panties would dampen.
He rolls the rubber down his length, fingers wrapping around his cock as he tugs a few times. You choose that moment to flip yourself over, hips raised as your chest lays flat against the floor and Jungkook moans.
“My pretty baby” he croons, hands roaming your ass before he’s pulling your cheeks apart; eyes fixed on your clenching cunt. Ever so enticing, silently begging to be filled and fucked until you can’t think or walk; a perfect excuse for Jungkook to pamper you a little.
You wiggle your hips, giggle muffled in the crook of your elbow has he parts your lips with his thumb, gently dipping into you hole before he’s pulling out.
“Please, Jungkook”
And that’s all it takes for him to line the head of his cock up with you entrance, tip nudging against your clit before he’s pushing into you; every inch stretching you apart deliciously.
“So good” you sigh, walls clenching around him and Jungkook can’t help the stutter of his hips, punching the air out of your lungs at the sudden intrusion.
“Sorry—“ his fingers dig into your hips, “Just feels so good, sucking me in”
You rock back onto his cock, breathy moan tumbling past your lips as your ass meets his pelvis; cock fully tucked into your pussy.
“Give me a moment” you shudder, body thrumming in anticipation.
Jungkook hums, hands wandering your body, fingers dancing over your skin. A surprised moan echoes throughout the room as his hands grab both your tits, squeezing them, fingers rubbing over both your nipples sending hot pleasure straight to your cunt.
He can feel you rhythmically clenching around him, walls sucking him in as you rock forward an inch before you’re sinking back down on his length.
“Okay” you nod, fingers holding onto the edge of the yoga mat.
“You sure?” he asks, pulling out to the tip, hips slow as he plunges back into you.
“Mhmm”
You feel Jungkook’s fingers dig into the meat of your hips, picking up the pace of his thrusts.
You can’t help each near pornographic moan that’s pushed out of you with each harsh slap of Jungkook’s hips meeting your ass, skin smacking wet as your slick coats your thighs.
“So good for me” his head tips back, arms hooking around your bent elbows.
You let out a squeak as he sits you up, and your walls constrict around his length as he pushes deeper inside of you, gush of wetness clinging to his thighs.
“So good” your head tips back onto his shoulder, knees helping you bounce up his length.
Your back arches when the head of cock hits your g-spot, ring of creamy slick gathering at the base of his cock each time you pull up to the tip.
“Look at that” Jungkook murmurs into your ear, one hand tangling into your hair as the other settles over your throat.
He tugs your head up, and you catch your reflection in the full length mirror; insides of your thighs coated in a sheen of your slick, Jungkook’s hips thrusting his cock up into you, both your bodies glistening with sweat.
The red hue of your cheeks flushes down your neck and chest, shade darkening with each wet squelch of your cunt as Jungkook helps you bounce in his lap.
He watches your tits bounce, both his hands wandering to grab them, pulling your back closer to chest as he pounds into you.
“I’m gonna cum” you hiccup, hands scrambling to hold onto his bicep as your other hand travels down your body, fingers gathering up your slick before you’re circling your clit.
You thighs start to shake, crescent moons indented into your skin as Jungkook’s grip on your chest tightens, your walls throbbing around his cock, drawing him closer to his orgasm.
“Yeah?” his hips stutter, “Come for me then, pretty. Let’s come together”
You moan, fingers unrelenting as you thrum at your clit in tight circles. Your orgasm wracks throughout your entire body when it hits, stomach tensing as your cum coats Jungkook cock, which twitches as he thrusts up into you.
He holds you down on his length, deep groan rumbling through his chest as he shoots his seed into the condom, your walls continuing to milk him of everything he’s got.
“Good girl” he soothes, hands falling to your hips as you fall forwards, cheek pressed against the mat as Jungkook pulls out, thrusting back into you gently.
“Thank you” you whimper, thighs tensing as he pulls himself out of your sodden pussy, folds glistening creamy white.
✯ ✯ ✯
Everything feels right. The two of you tucked into Jungkook’s bed after a shower, both your hands roaming one another’s bodies.
You’d clung to Jungkook’s back as he’d cooked you both dinner, work-out long forgotten as you’d both worked up an appetite. Muscles too sore, too achey, to even think of carrying on anything that isn’t wrapping up warm in each others’ arms.
It’s strange how so much, but nothing had changed. You still danced around each other with practiced ease, hands still feathery light, skimming over hips and backs, where legs are tangled under blankets, cold feet on warm skin.
There was something mellow in the air, a film of freedom, hearts on your sleeves for one another to see, where kisses felt softer, deeper in promise and love.
All the ‘I love yous’ holding the right weight, both understanding that the love you feel is the right kind of love.
He’d thought about it a lot, from the day you’d both confessed; messy, but a confession nonetheless. (And he had made sure to ask you to be his girlfriend in a more romantic setting than his spare room turned gym). That maybe the time growing up as just friends wasn’t wasted.
Failed relationships and sticky breakups simply teaching the two of you the right way to love.
Learning the give and take of relationships, what it truly meant to be in love with another person. Where you want nothing more than their happiness, a pure sort of adoration that consumes your entire being until they’re always on your mind. Small, seemingly insignificant parts of life reminding you of them. Trinkets in corner shops or the changes in season, certain smells, textures of clothing.
Learning about what you want for yourselves and how to take care of one another.
So he doesn’t regret all those years spent as just friends. Because maybe the two of you were too young, too eager, too scared about something as precious as true love. Growing up together, as just friends, might have brought the two of you closer than rushed first loves and petty arguments that you’d look back on and regret.
Red string. Stars. Fate. Destiny. Any of it. Jungkook doesn’t know what brought the two of you together, two souls intertwined until you both part ways when your lights flicker out. Though he thinks you’d reignite them wherever the two of you end up later on, new lives, new worlds. New everything, where he gets to learn about you all over again, explore your being, as you explore his, and you’re moulding into one another once more.
He wonders how long you’ve both been laying there, lips pulled up into lazy smiles, kiss swollen; little galaxies reflected in both your eyes.
Where every glistening star is a reason as to why you love each other. Your galaxies shining with a million different reasons, moonlight no longer veiling what lay beneath.
Because Jungkook thinks, if people were made of stardust before they were born. There’s no doubt in his mind, the two of you were made from the same star.
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💫 like, reblog, and feedback is encouraged!! thank you so much for reading <3
taglist: @koikooky @fandems @guesswhatimthinking @slut-formattsun @satisfied18 @apollukee @scastro95 @happygolucky7777 @jjkw-7 @taeboludo @fairy-jaykay @jeonjjks @exactlygreatcoffee @itzz-me-duh @jkkkkkay @starstruckfangirls @tornparts @seoqity @straykidsmaxident @bebejungkook @twilight-love-nochu-main @chimmisbae @redeyezbloodymouth
permanent taglist: @m1sss1mp @supernoonanyc
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4ln-stay8 · 5 months
Text
Secrets and shadows
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>summary: Lando denies your relationship in order to keep it private but that took a toll on you
>author’s notes: i hope this isn’t too bad… im trying tbh… this is probably bad but anyway… enjoy
>warnings: lying, insecurity, anxiety, crying, teasing, denying, doubt
The evening sun painted Lando's gaming setup with a warm glow as he fired up his Twitch stream. Lando adjusted his headset with a grin, ready to dive into another streaming session with Max and Bankai on his Discord server.
"Alright chat, we're live! What's up, everyone? It's been a while." said Lando starting his stream "Today, Max and Bankai will join us for some gaming, is that okay chat?" He continued
The fans in the chat exploded with excitement as Lando hadn't streamed in a while.
"Chat say hi to the boys!" said Lando with excitement as his friends entered his discord server
"Hey guys, hey chat! Ready for some gaming, Lando?" said Max excited to join his friends.
"Im ready to beat you Max, thats for sure!" said Lando confident in his ability
Lando was reading the chat trying to keep up with his fans when he noticed that something was off. The chat was full of questions about someone passing by in the background.
"Calm down chat, jeez! She's just a friend crashing at my place for a while. Now let's get back to the game so we can beat Max." Lando said chuckling trying to calm them down.
"I'm counting on it. And who knows, maybe your 'friend' in the background will bring you some luck." said Bankai while Lando was reading the chat.
"Not you too man. I've just calmed chat down, don't make them start again. She is just a friend" said Lando trying to hold chat into place
"Yeah, right guys. 'Just a friend." said Max chuckling
"Seriously guys stop it. She is just a friend, nothing more. She is not even my type anyway, plus she is also a friend of Flo so she can confirm my point." said Lando frustrated with the teasing
In the other room, you were watching Lando's stream. You couldn't help but smile as you listened to his voice and watched him play, feeling warmth in your heart. But when you heard him deny your relationship, your heart sank, and a heavy pain formed in your chest.
Insecurity washed over you. You've always known that being with someone as famous and adored as Lando would come with its challenges. But hearing him say you were just a friend made you question if you were truly good enough for him.
He not only denied your relationship but he also denied you. "She is not even my type".... Those words kept playing over and over again in your mind. You didn't expect him to tell everyone about you but you also didn't expect him to deny you like that.
It hurt you more than you wanted to. That mean voice in your mind getting louder and louder and louder with every second passing.
You felt like you interpreted everything wrong. Maybe you weren't in a relationship, maybe it was something else, but yet if you wouldn't have been in a relationship you wouldn't have told each other 'I love you' as much as you did.
You were questioning everything. You knew it was wrong. You took into consideration that you could've been overreacting right now but your insecurities were louder than your rationality.
You changed yourself into some of your clothes, leaving Lando's clothes, that were previously on you, on the bed. You picked up your phone and walked to the living room.
Once you got there, you grabbed a blanket and you opened the door to the balcony and stepped outside. You needed some fresh air and some quiet to try and calm your mind down.
You put the blanket around you and you set in the chair that was placed there. You set there crying quietly. You didn't want to cry but you just couldn't stop.
As as Lando and the boys started another round in the game, the banter continued.
"Focus on the game, guys. Stop trying to stir up drama." said Lando annoyed with his friends
"Drama? Nah, just trying to figure out when you'll finally introduce us to this mysterious 'friend.'" said Bankai teasing him
"Seriously, Lando, you've got some explaining to do. The chat is blowing up with theories." Max warned Lando as he saw the chat going wild once again
"Theories? It's just a friend, I promise. No hidden agenda." said Lando rolling his eyes, trying to concentrate on the game.
The teasing continued throughout the stream, with Lando playing along, trying to keep the focus on the game.
"Alright, enough about my 'friend.' Let's get back to the action, yeah?" said the curly haired brit while his friends kept laughing
"Fine, fine. But you owe us some answers, mate. We won't forget this." said Bankai before focusing back on the game
As the stream ended, the playful banter echoed in the virtual space, leaving Lando with a smile as he signed off, leaving the mystery of his "friend" hanging in the air, much to the amusement of Max and Bankai.
He was happy he managed to get through the stream without spilling something out, but what he didn't know was the effect his words had on you.
He went to find you, wanting to enjoy some time together before calling it a day, but to his surprise he didn't find you.He saw his clothes on the bed, the ones that were on you earlier and he didn't understand why they were there.
He called your name but no one answered. He looked for you all over the apartment but you weren't anywhere to be found. He sent you texts, still no answer. He called your phone a hundred times but he was still unlucky. He started to get worried but then he noticed the blurry figure of his beloved girlfriend and he walked to the balcony confused.
On the dimly lighted balcony, Lando sat down beside you, his curiosity evident. "Hey, I've been looking for you everywhere, I even called you, why didn't you answer?" He asked concerned
"I didn't heard the phone sorry" you said, your words barely above a whisper
"What's going on? You seem off," he asked, his eyes filled with genuine concern.
You hesitated for a moment, then looked up at him with a forced smile. "Just tired, I guess. It was a long day." You replied, avoiding eye contact.
Lando sensed something was amiss. "Come on, you can tell me anything. What's going on baby?" he reassured you, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.
Taking a deep breath, you finally found the courage and opened up. "I... I heard what you said on the stream about me. It just made me wonder if you really meant it" you admitted, vulnerability present in your voice.
Lando's expression softened as he realized the impact of his words. "Y/n baby, you know it's not like that. You mean more to me than anyone else. I just didn't want people prying into our private lives," he explained sincerely.
You nodded, a mixture of relief and lingering insecurity in your eyes. "I get it, but sometimes it's hard to hear those things, even if I know they're not true. I couldn't stop my mind from thinking it's true" you confessed, tears falling down your face
Lando pulled you into a comforting embrace. "I'm sorry if it hurt you. I'll make it up to you, alright? I don't want you doubting how important you are to me, ever! Trust me my love, you are everything I've ever wanted and more! I love you more than anything so please stop doubting yourself and your place in my life!" he promised, planting a soft kiss on her forehead.
As you sat there, the weight lifted off your shoulders. Lando understood the importance of his words and remembered that people can interpretate them differently.
You sat there, looking at the stars, holding each other close. You managed to calm yourself down and let your rationality take over. You looked up to look at Lando's face. As if he got a cue, he looked down at you with wonder in his eyes.
"I love you! And I'm sorry I overreacted" you said quietly avoiding his eyes
"I love you too baby! And I'm sorry for what I said" he whispered leaning in to kiss you.
You sat there, on the cold balcony for a little longer. You fell asleep due to the exhaustion caused by all the crying. Lando noticed and picked you up carrying you to the bedroom. He placed you down on the bed before joining you.
"I love you more than anything my love, never forget that" he whispered kissing your forehead before he pulled you closer falling asleep in your arms.
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w.count: 1.8k- he's back.. as a treat c:
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recently, kyojurou always sleeps best with a weight on his chest.
this hasn't always been the case, however. no, for the vast majority of his life, sleep had usually always found him quite easily. the small douse of sleep resistance in his early days was the only time on mental record that he could truly recall sleep evading him. on top of his usual power naps on the clock- since traveling in the sun and working under the moon left little time for many full nights rest- he can say he does well for himself in the exhaustless department.
of course, that was until you threw a wrench into everything.
the casual relationship you both had was something both frustrating and comforting to the 20-something flame hashira. on one hand, you both knew that relationships could prove to be difficult in the long run with this occupation. with him being sent out on near back-to-back high-level jobs dealing with more lethal demons than others... he didn't want to unintentionally burden you with anxiety over his safety and well-being. kyojuro was strong, stronger than other fellow hashira, but still weaker than others. and even if his strength seemed flawless in the eyes of weaker people- he isn't infallible and you know that.
so, after a long discussion with you on a night where he had downtime, the conclusion you both came to was- as forementioned- a simple and complicated one. he would continue to care for and about you, treating you with affection he knows you deserve. but he would always be mindful never to cross that threshold into a labeled relationship. you agreed to his terms and offered to return everything he gave you in kind.
however, even if that was what was decided by you both mutually, the turning in his gut when something happened to his distaste didn't just go away. situations where someone was too close to you, where you looked someone else's way so that you wouldn't stick to him like a leech looking for sustenance. when you would excuse yourself to some other task so you wouldn't overstep the bonds of your agreement. it irked him down into the pit of his stomach.
perhaps it was jealousy of others or maybe it was envy since even though he cared so much he couldn't comfortably have you like others could.
it was moments like the one he found himself a week ago where all those feelings fell off his shoulders like dried clumps of dirt. cracking and chipping off his body. a rare chance to accompany you on a mission was always a welcome occasion in his books.
the missions location was in the moutains and the rain was heavy all day and well into the evening. with the lack of light from the sun that had long since set and the terrain that was only worsening, he implored that you both seek shelter in the nearest abandoned hut or cave you could find.
"it would be far too careless to continue on this way," he instructs. to ensure you stay at his side, his hand held tightly onto yours. the way the rain and wind tried to make his hand slip against yours and threaten to break you apart from him only made his hold tighten. "come, under here." he yanks you gently into a small undercut of rock and grass and mud. it was hardly the ideal place for shelter, but it was the best option for the current situation.
grabbing onto the cutout rock made throughout time, he lets you sit and tuck your knees in first before he's clambering under beside you. admittedly, the fit is tight since this particular undercut courtesy of the land wasn't particularly large. in fact, the longer you both sat squeezed together with your toes still getting soaked by rainwater and mud, the more it seemed like this was actually a bad idea and that you should've just kept on going until something more suitable popped up.
"perhaps we should-" his suggestion of possibly relocating somewhere else was promptly cut off by your body sliding off his shoulder that you had been leaning against. your head lulled off, ducking and acting as a weight that caused your whole upper body to shift. your shoulder slides off his and across half of his chest before he quickly catches it in the palm of his opposite hand to stop you from falling into his lap entirely. "are you-" the word 'alright' never makes it out of his mouth when he sees you... "asleep?"
how in the world you managed to tune out the sound of the heavy downpour a foot away from your face, or even find comfort in your soaked and chilly clothes is lost on him. maybe you had been exhausted and he didn't notice- which sends a pang of guilt through his chest- but surely you would've told him so if that were the case.
using his other hand that wasn't holding your shoulder up, he wraps his arm around your shoulders, bringing it around to place on your forehead. you weren't sick, were you? through the dampness of your skin, he felt no heat of fever, so that wasn't it.
kyojuro doesn't understand, but he doesn't truly need to. understanding wouldn't change the fact you were asleep.
his arm that was used to check your temperature stayed around you and even pulls you closer to him. his knee that was closest to you was bent to avoid the rain, though he extends it back out into the rainfall once again to make room for your comfort soaking the fabric straight through. your back pushed against his chest in a comforting sense of pressure. your head lay tilted under his jaw- nose just barely brushing against his throat- which he had adjusted so he could rest his chin easily on your crown.
you smell of rain and grass, but under it, he still could smell the scent of you among the elements. even though you were both drenched, he still found you warm against him and as he shut his eyes to take in the moment of peace, he thought that perhaps this peace was how you managed to fall asleep in the first place.
now, kyojuro sits irritated. legs and arms crossed as his eyes scrunch closed. his leg bounces and his fingers tap against his bicep as he sits in his resting robes on top of his futon.
since that day, the great annoyance he feels creep up his neck when he lays down to rest keeps him from doing so. boring himself to sleep has worked once or twice, but it never lasts. even when he did get sleep, he was always restless, which he greatly disliked since his whole life before this, he was a fairly heavy sleeper.
he's tried other possible solutions. using an extra pillow and laying it on his chest. folding a large blanket up to sit on top of him. he's even contemplating getting a stray dog off the street just for it to curl up on his warm chest- even if that was a considerably foolish idea.
kyojuro's stay at this abode was temporary. it was one of the few wisteria houses that take in and care of demon slayers, and he was set to leave in a day or so. becoming fed up with his impossible plight, he pulls his robes tighter around his waist and shifts the sleeves to cover his shoulders more appropriately before he leaves his temporary room.
perhaps some fresh air would be good for him.
he barely makes it two steps out of his room before he's being addressed. down the hall, his name comes from the mouth that is the cause for all his restless nights unbeknownst to you.
"kyojuro!" you softly call so as to not wake anyone sleeping at the late hour. he turns to see you waving at him and coming closer. at your approach feels his resolve crack. "i heard you were staying here when i arrived earlier. what're you still doing up?"
when you come up to him and stop at his bare feet standing on the veranda, he splinters more. he can hear the cracks in his subconscious instead of your words he knows what you're saying because your lips are moving.
"are you going to sleep?" his sudden question cuts you off and you stare at him with pure confusion since it had nothing to do with what you were previously saying. even in this dull lighting, he seemed awfully tired. more so than you remember ever seeing before. reaching up, you cup his cheek in one of your hands with concern painting your face.
kyojuro shatters at the contact.
you yelp when he gently takes your hand into his and pulls it off his face only to march back into his still-open door and drag you in after him. kyojuro shuts the door behind you before he grabs your shoulders and pushes you down as gently as he can onto his futon after marching you to it.
"hey!" you whisper yell, hardly able to see anything aside from the moonlight casting shadows into his room. "what's this all about?" you yelp again when he wordlessly yanks the covers out from under you so he can crawl under them. before you can start questioning him again, he's snaking his arm under your arm and pushing his palm against the middle of your back.
your hands brace yourself against his chest as he falls onto his back, and you're left awkwardly lying halfway on top of him. at your weight, you feel him let out a deflating breath onto the top of your head.
"uh, kyojuro?" you attempt to push against his chest and sit up to ask him what in the world has gotten into him, but he stops you. his grip around you is solid and you feel the tips of his fingers push further into your back to keep you in place.
"stay." he all but commands in a tone that was soaked in irritated drozziness. you simply drop your forehead into the crook of his neck defeated. there are no more words exchanged that night. with you perched on top of him, kyojuro easily falls asleep for the first full nights rest he's had in a week.
in the morning, when he fesses up to his body's sudden demand of your presence, weight, and warmth for even a decent night of rest, you can't help but tease him.
it takes a while to find some sort of middle solution to his sleepless problems since you can't always be around him for obvious work-related reasons. kyojuro doesn't say it out loud, but you're his just as much as he's yours- as per your agreement. that alone should give him the right to hold you at night when you're around at the very least.
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a/n: mmmm i feel like this could've been so much better but im rUSTY ;n;
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501 notes · View notes
peachesofteal · 6 months
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@luminousbeings-crudematter has me sick over the idea of Simon being your insufferable ex.
18+ MDNI / explicit sexual content (I wrote this on my phone so mind the mistakes)
It’s not that you didn’t love Simon. You did. You still do. But love had turned into something else, within months, had turned into heartbreak, and anxiety, and pain. The waiting, the worrying. Standing in the doorway at two AM, wondering if he’s going to let you touch him this time or if he’s going to shut you out for days, disappearing into a shell of himself. Becoming the Ghost that haunts your house, instead of your boyfriend.
It was too much. And not enough. All at the same time.
He said he understood. It felt so mutual, when he held you the night of the break up. He rubbed your back and kissed your tear stained cheeks, telling you not to blame yourself, telling you that he was okay, that you’d be okay, that everything would be just fine.
So, you started to try moving on, pieced yourself together and started get back out in the world, tried feel the sun on your face. You went to dinner and brunches with your friends, picked up a new hobby, went back to yoga. You were healing, even starting to think about dating again, bandaging the gaping hole in your heart with tape and glue, anything to cover up the ache that still lingered there.
There was just one little problem.
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“Si, we can’t-“
“Hush.” He sticks a thumb in your mouth, pressing down on your tongue, manhandling your jaw wide as his other hand unzips his jeans, reaching to free his cock, heavy and hot in his grip, nearly too thick to be believed, fat tip already leaking. Your knees slide against the cold ground of the grimy pub bathroom, thighs pressing together without conscious effort. “I like this dress, love.” He hums as he thrusts the length of his cock down into your mouth, hot skin sliding against your tongue, pushing all the way down your throat until you can’t breathe. “Fuck, that’s it.” You peer up at him through your tears, watching the way his head tips back, adams apple bobbing with a swallow. He’s wearing the mask, the black cotton one, and you can see why your date was so freaked out. From this angle, he looks terrifying. Giant, broad muscled shoulders and arms forced into a black sweatshirt, most of his face hidden by the mask and hood.
No wonder your date didn’t say a word when he suddenly appeared at your table, gripping you by your elbow, excusing you from your meal.
“Simon, what are you doing he-“
“Sorry mate, can I borrow her for a moment?”
“That’s my girl.” He grunts, fingers tugging at the straps of your dress, jerking you closer. He doesn’t force himself too far, but you take as much as you can willingly, letting him smash your nose into the hair at the base of his cock, tears smarting with every half breath. “You were made for this cock, sweetheart.” He fucks your face, coaching you through it the entire time, telling you how good you are, how sweet and perfect, and how you’ll never be able to replace him.
He puts you back together so tenderly afterwards, wiping your face, kissing you softly as he fixes your hair.
“You can’t go back to that table now. Want me to take you for dinner?” He asks innocently, like he didn’t just give you a belly full of come. You glower at him, but he just smiles under the mask, eyes scrunching just so, handsome in a way that completely devastates you every time.
“This is the last time.” You grumble, fixing your dress as you stalk out the bathroom, down the dark back hall to the emergency exit. He’s hot on your heels, fingers casually brushing the swell of your ass, the echo of his half mocking, half sincere chuckle ringing in your ears. “Simon, I’m serious, I-“ He cuts you off, dragging the mask down to press his lips to yours, tasting what’s left of him in your mouth before pulling away.
“What makes you think I’m not serious?”
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I know for a fact he threatens to give you a baby every time he fucks you. Presses you into missionary and makes you look at him as he whispers about how he knows exactly how to fix this.
785 notes · View notes
adonis-koo · 3 months
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wicked • 19
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↳ Summary: In a desperate hope to stop war from breaking you are a serviced to wed the most vile man alive, the one who has committed atrocities and war crimes beyond comprehension, he who is responsible for the fall of many nations, the wicked prince who’s heart is made of stone. You are to marry a man who challenges every belief and moral you stand for, all while being faced in a foreign land with nobody but yourself too trust…But are you both truly that different? Or is hate not too far from love?
↳ Pairing: Jungkook/reader
↳ Genre: arranged marriage AU, enemies to lovers, it’s kind of a period AU??? Historical but also technically not? prince!AU, eventual smut
Word Count: 13k
Previous | Next | Masterlist
tags: vaginal fingering, tiddy sucking (jk is definitely a boobs man), semi public sex??, oral (f), so many petnames, dom!kook, brief masturbation (m), multiple orgasms, size kink, multiple positions, cowgirl, creampies, slight somnophilia? (they keep having sex when they're both extremely exhausted), spooning turned to doggy, some very filthy talk, corruption kink, semi degradation kink, the word seed is used once and I actually hate it, some sweet, sweet aftercare, pillow talk, grinding, cumplay, brief handjob (m), edging, cockwarming, they're so in love your honor
Note: people will be shocked at how fast this update has come out and honestly ?? so am I, but tbf half of it is smut so...iykyk ALSO if you haven't checked out the playlist for wicked, you totally should!!
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After the first snowfall, winter had come rolling in with no sign of stopping and just as Jungkook had once said, Penumbra was now buried in snow. 
There was something so captivating about the snow, its crisp frosty delicate nature, how despite the sun being covered in clouds, the snow reflected off the light and made everything so much brighter. 
The land was so desolate and yet so full at the same time, it left a deep yearning in you for the warmth, but in an oddly fulfilling way, it let you rest deeper at night, taking in the great vastness of the land and its minimalism. 
The morning had been busy just as each morning before had been so, Yule was only a week away and the court had many aristocrats staying at the castle making merry. It was such a celebratory time and yet you still felt like a ghost better left in the past.
Your days were not all horrible, but the constant numbness never fully went away, at one time you had wanted to go to Yule in Kimhae to reunite with your parents, but the idea of leaving somehow filled you with as much anxiety as staying.
“Well? What’s on your mind?” Jungkook finally spoke, not looking up from his work book, making sure the last of his bill signs, contracts carefully written out and correspondence dealt with so he wouldn’t be behind on his work when you both made your return.
You had been admittedly antsy, tidying up your bedroom, packing what few trinkets you thought you might want during the nights of your journey, fiddling with your own work and where to put what.
You simply couldn’t sit still.
You didn’t reply for a long moment causing Jungkook to look up from his desk, blue eyes appearing from those dark thick locks of hair.
Sighing you shifted as you set your book against the bed, “…You’ll be mad at me.”
“Well you don’t know until you tell me.” Jungkook didn’t seem worried.
You glanced away once more as Jungkook stood up, rounding his desk to walk over to you, “…What if I was having second thoughts…About going to Kimhae?”
Jungkook curved a brow, “The morning we depart for our trip?”
“Don’t say it like that!” You pouted with an usher.
“Is it really the trip? Or is it something else?” Jungkook replied, brushing off your pout.
Your pout however only furthered because you didn’t have an answer, “I don’t know…I just…this is the first time we’ll be making a public appearance outside of Penumbra since our wedding.”
“And what about it?” Jungkook shifted, crossing his arms, still not understanding what your problem was and truth be told you wish you had a better answer for him. 
“Does that not make you anxious? It makes me incredibly anxious.” You frowned, wringing your hands together, you were anxious about everything truthfully, but the idea of making your first appearance in nearly a year, well…You didn’t know what to expect. 
But then again, Penumbra had prepared you for pretty much everything at this point, there weren't too many boxes left to check off on life events at this point. 
“Why would I be?” Jungkook cocked his head to the side, “I’ve nothing to hide nor prove to anyone…If you’re anxious simply because, then it’s understandable,” Jungkook reached out to you, brushing his palm over your cheek before it crept down to your neck, “A lot has happened, I think it’s only natural. But I also know you’ve been looking forward to seeing your parents for the majority of your stay here, it would be imprudent of me to let you cancel our trip at the last minute.” 
Your lips quivered a little, “Even if I’m terrified? What if something happens?” 
Jungkook’s lips curled into a little smile, his fingers curling around your neck, not squeezing, but in a loving hold you had grown so acquainted too, “Then I will be there to stop it from happening,” Jungkook’s forehead pressed down against yours, “I know you’ll regret not going more then if you do.” 
Your eyes fluttered shut before you leaned over to bury your face into the crook of his neck, Jungkook’s arms wrapping around you tight as you murmured, “I hope you’re right.” curling your arms around his waist as you let yourself become engulfed in his warmth and letting it swallow all of your consuming thoughts. 
It stayed like this for a long minute before Jungkook slowly pulled away, looking down at you as he spoke, “I have something I wanted to give you.”
You pulled away from him more to get a better look at him, tilting your head in curiosity, “A gift…?” 
Jungkook snorted, “Something like that. I wasn’t sure if it would be finished in time, but Jimin managed to get it to me last night.” He let go of you before walking over to the bed, leaning down as he pulled down out from underneath. 
You tilted your head at the thick cloth cover as Jungkook stood up, holding it out to you. It was long and thin but held a considerable weight to it, not too heavy, but just enough to let you know it was of incredible quality. 
He nodded at you as a gesture to pull whatever was inside out, opening the draw strings. The first thing you saw was the bright silver crest of a pommel, pulling it out further was a soft leather hand and pulling it all the way out revealed a shortsword around twenty three inches. 
You couldn’t help but let your lips part at just how beautiful it was though, the metal was reflective and the detailing along the fuller, the blade was double edged and as your eyes traveled back to the handle you noticed a sort of…language? Written down the grip.
“It’s the first of its kind,” Jungkook finally spoke, “Noxtria melted with Quicksilver for a lightweight balanced sword but sharp enough to cut through thick metal. Godslayer is it’s name.”
“Godslayer?” You looked up at him. 
“The idea behind this blade was that it would be lighter than air, but have the strength to kill a god. I couldn’t think of a better person to hold the first blade of its kind than my own wife. We’ve been working on your swordsmanship for a long time now and I think it’s time you carry your own sword.” Jungkook nodded, a sort of pride in his eyes as he watched you weigh it, giving it a whirl in your hand. 
The training you had done had definitely made you physically stronger, as while the blade had weight, it wasn’t taxing to hold, “I want you to never feel defenseless by my side, we’re partners and equals and while I hope it never again comes to you needing to use this, I want you to have it if the occasion were to ever arise.” 
You were speechless as you stared at the blade, a reflection of yourself in its metal staring back at you, lowering it you whispered, “Thank you, Jungkook.” 
A small smile pulled on his lips, “Anything for my little sun.” His fingers traced down your cheek, “The case for it is still in the cover, here I’ll help you with putting on the harness.” 
Jungkook took the cloth covering off it to reveal the heavy black sheath and the harness that it attached too, Jungkook had carefully pulled it around your hip, adjusting it until it was snug against your skin, it felt weird having such a thing attached to your body now. 
But there was something oddly…safe about it, as Jungkook said, this was a safety measure and it made you feel as such, you could only hope you would never have to take another soul but….Your fingers unconsciously lifted, rubbing over the spot on your chest, now scarred from where Di Jin had attempted to kill you. 
Jungkook as if knowing what you were thinking tenderly grabbed your hand pulling it away, “It’s difficult to see it now but…” He paused for a moment as if gathering his thoughts, “I think…if I could go back and change things I would, in a heartbeat. But I do think it happened for a reason.” 
Your lips trembled softly, “How could killing someone happen for a reason?” 
“It made a spectacle for one,” Jungkook replied, a certain soft note in his voice was his hand found its way back to your neck, “Those who doubted your ability to hold your own in the court will never question it again. Your words have always had bite, but now you have proof behind them.”
You shook your head, “I don’t see eye to eye with you on this Jungkook.”
“I know you don’t,” Jungkook replied, his thumb soothingly rubbing into your skin, “And I wouldn’t expect anything less, but your respect in the court is much more now than it ever was before. Not only this but…”
Jungkook paused for a long moment gathering his thoughts, “Knowing you have the capability to defend yourself…there will be times when we will have no choice but to be apart,” He sighed, “I will eventually have to lead projects that take me away from Penumbra, knowing you have the means to take care of yourself puts me at ease.” 
“I don’t want you to be apart from me.” You mumbled, anxiety at the thought immediately quelling.
Jungkook let out an amused breath, “That’s not something to worry about now, one thing at a time. If you have the rest of your things settled, we should head down, the sooner we get on the road the sooner we’ll arrive, and the sooner you’ll feel better.” 
“...I suppose.” You mumbled, but Jungkook was not feeding into your pouty expression, no matter how much it was his weakness, he grabbed your thick cloak which had laid abandoned on the bed, wrapping it over your shoulders as he buckled it up, grabbing his own to carry as he held out his arm for you. 
Letting him guide you down you ignored the stares of a group of court ladies staring you down, perhaps in wariness, perhaps because the court had easily taken notice of how close you and Jungkook had become in the last few weeks. 
The consummation of your marriage hadn’t actually changed anything, but Jungkook’s confession of love had really done a number on you both, and every time those sweet words left his lips you had the intention of saying it back. 
And yet every time it felt like the word got stuck in your throat unable to escape, perhaps it was because you were still scared, still in disbelief that Jungkook loved you, but all of his actions, his words, even the way he looked at you, it all screamed love.
Being met with snow on the ground, crunching beneath your feet you let out a breath that you could visibly see, a sensation you still weren’t quite used to, it was freezing cold and the journey would be very long. 
Jungkook had spared no expense to keep you wrapped in very thick layers in hopes that it would keep you warm, but it seemed no matter the amount, you were always cold. 
“Wheein is doing her last rounds of gathering items, she should be out shortly,” Taehyun called out, finishing fixing up your horse’s saddle, Jungkook walked up with you before helping you on and making sure you were situated before saddling his own horse. 
“Snow isn’t too deep yet, we should make a timely arrival,” Yoongi called out, trotting on his own horse up the path ahead before stopping next to Jungkook, “If we make it with not much snowfall, it should only take four days.” 
Your lip curled a little at the estimate, you knew Kimhae was further away then Eunoia, but you had been used to only a day’s travel when you were in Eunoia, they lived further West then Eunoia and a little further south. 
The climate in the West however made it incredibly dry, the further you traveled the less snow there would be, hopefully at least. 
Once Wheein had finished her last round of gathering any last minute packing she had come out with a few guards help and finished loading the pack horses and then mounted her own. It wasn't too big of an entourage of servants, but you had two of Yoongi’s men, himself and of course your two personal servants to attend you both. 
You were nervous for many reasons, showing your face to the outside world, you weren’t sure what reaction you would gain, knowing how the truth of Penumbra had been twisted beyond recognition, you could distinctly remember all the dread you had for two years of being engaged to Jungkook. 
Words that he had abused women in many ways, that he starved all of his servants and that he’d beat them if they disobeyed, rumors swirling that he already had multiple wives and you would be another trophy in his collection, some rumors even going as far as to say he had his dead enemies taken to the castle so he could bath in their blood. 
The list went on and on and every single one was just a rumor, nothing more than foolish lies spread to cause more fear, Jungkook was not a single thing he had ever been stated as, wicked least of all. 
But you were now nervous because you had seen both sides, the truth and lies both, and you couldn’t help but wonder what rumors had escaped Penumbra about you? Dread filled you once more, what twisted way could the world turn your murder of Di Jin even worse? 
That you feasted on his corpse? 
You could briefly taste the raw iron in your mouth that had you holding back a gag, Jungkook’s sharp gaze that had been looking ahead immediately on you, “What’s wrong?” 
You held your hand on your mouth trying desperately hard to not let the memory suck you back into the past, flashes of blood in your mind, cartilage mixed with skin, the raw smell of blood, “Water, can I have some water.” You forced the words out. 
Jungkook wordlessly pulled the water satchel from the side of his saddle, handing it to you, “You’re thinking.” 
You took a large swallow and slowly the faint taste faded back into the nothingness it came from, you shook your head handing it back to him, “I’m trying not too.” 
“You’re not doing a good job of it,” Jungkook replied, making you give him a look, he laughed a little though you spot the concern in his eyes, “Would talking about it make you feel better?” 
You sighed as you shook your head, “I think i’d rather talk about something else,” Lingering on your thoughts would only serve to possibly bring memories even more vivid back, “You’ve been to Kimhae right Jungkook?” 
Jungkook guided his horse a little closer to yours so you’d be able to converse better, “It’s been a long time. We visited when they hosted the War Council. I was…maybe seventeen? This was just in the beginning of negotiating,” Jungkook hummed as he thought about it, “Kimhae was dull in my opinion, they lacked conviction and were very obvious in the fact that they didn’t respect Penumbra or the Jeon name.” 
You listened to him before you let out a laugh gaining his attention, “I remember this quite well, I was visiting Seokjin at the time. I remember spotting you and your father arriving out my window but you were too far for me to get a good look. I remember him complaining though. Telling me you had this haughty look about you, acting as if you were better than him.”
Jungkook scoffed, “I was better than him. I am still better than him. If you were present at the time though…Why had I not seen you?” He looked a bit confused, as obviously women weren’t allowed in the War Room but that didn’t mean they were prohibited anywhere else, he had stayed a full fortnite at Kimhae that trip and not once had he seen you. 
“I made myself unknown on purpose,” You replied, a small frown tugging on your lips, “It was at Seokjin’s insistence of course, he didn’t want you near me with the potential to ‘corrupt me’, as he said.” 
“Corrupt you?” Jungkook scoffed, almost offended, “If we had met properly before our engagement, I feel we could’ve been cordial. Come to think of it I do remember talk of the Eunoian Princess, being in court,” Jungkook’s gaze became pensive as his brows pinched together, “I remember Seokjin gloating about how the fairest princess warmed his bed at night and that he loved nothing more then his name screamed in pleasure.”
You blinked multiple times before your gaze shot to Jungkook, “This was in reference to me?” 
You had known Jungkook long enough now to tell he was absolutely wrought with anger at just the idea, his knuckles tight on the reigns of his horse as he stared ahead, “Mhm. I once told you that we saw him differently, that’s one of the many reasons why. He loved to peacock around gloating about sleeping with you.” 
“Sleeping with me!?” Your mouth parted in somewhat disbelief, “We…” You couldn’t help but let out a scoffed laugh, he had been pressuring you for some time, but you never realized just how desperate he was to go out of his way to lie to other men that you both had slept with one another in such a way. 
And then the embarrassment began to flood in, was this why so many men in his court assumed you were loose, or that you were an easy woman? 
“Well I can promise you he was nothing more than a liar,” You let out another laugh as you shook your head, “Screaming his name in pleasure…The only name that was ushered was my own and even then that was on a lucky day.”
“Your name!?” Jungkook sucked in a harsh breath of air. 
You paused, suddenly realizing what you had just said, and then looking around, there was a good distance between Yoongi up ahead with his fellow guards and Wheein and Taehyun were conversing further behind, Fenrir having walked alongside you awhile now. 
“So Seokjin has gotten to experience that sort of intimacy from you.” Jungkook pressed his tongue into his cheek as if this was the worst news he could ever receive. 
“It’s not…” You sighed, trying to find the right words, you had never really planned on mentioning what little intimacy you shared with Seokjin, as it wasn’t relevant to your current relationship and truthfully, there wasn’t much to talk about, “I’ve…When we first started to explore an intimate relationship together, you remember me being frightened by it, yes?” 
Jungkook tilted his head, a little confused as to where this was going but nodded regardless. 
“The same could be said for back then- especially back then,” You explained as you lowered your voice a little, “I was nervous to lose my virginity, Seokjin already didn’t like my traditional Eunoian attire, but even moreso it had him acting out, trying to pressure me into giving myself to him. But I could never commit to it. The idea of him leaving me after I gave it too him made me too anxious…And..”
You sighed as you glanced down at the snowy earth, “I hated feeling like nothing more than a sexual fantasy for him. Looking back, it feels as if that was all I ever provided, some sort of exotic fantasy that he could escape to in Eunoia, never truly a person, a soul, just something to make him aroused and fulfilled. And so to keep him satiated but also withhold my own boundary, I offered to pleasure him,” You pressed your lips together, your nose wrinkling, “It wasn’t very often, nor was it very pleasant but well…It kept things from escalating beyond my control.”
Jungkook’s jaw only clenched, “How different things would’ve been if we had met that week. Perhaps you could have been saved from all that trouble.” 
“Things happened the way they did though,” You offered a weak smile, “It’s not something I ever think about anymore, after all, it feels so long ago despite being so recent. And I’m very content now.” 
You reached out to grab his hand as your smile brightened, “I’m happy I saved myself for the right person. I couldn’t imagine it with anyone else.” 
This seemed to soothe Jungkook in the right way, “Well when you say it like that it makes me think you’ll want extra help to keep warm tonight.” 
“Jungkook!” You smacked his shoulder, “What an indecent thing to suggest, in a tent? In the middle of a journey?” 
Jungkook chuckled as he gripped his reins in contentment, “No better time than the present princess.” 
You only shook your head, the hours seemed to go quick as you and Jungkook had talked about this and that, and then a content silence took over as the sky darkened and Yoongi had begun to look for a suitable spot to make camp.
They had managed to find a spot off road closer to the woods where the cold wind was blocked and snow wasn’t as deep, clearing off the snow before getting fresh cut wood to get a fire going, setting up tents didn’t take very long. 
Soon dinner was cooking over the fire, granted you had already eaten an abundant mix of packed cabbage and vegetables tossed together and despite being tired and hungry Jungkook was still easily fending you off as metal clashed together. 
“You’ll need to try harder than that princess,” Jungkook whirled the sword in his hand as you huffed a breath, stretching your aching arms, “If you were to fight an opponent far more skilled than you in battle what would your tactic be?” 
“Run?” You raised your brows, Jungkook seemed to enjoy asking hypothetical questions that you were certain would never happen. 
“Okay but in this scenario you do, what would you do?” He pressed, giving you a moment to regather yourself. 
“Well it depends, if they’re aggressive, which I assume they would be, it’s not difficult to size my lack of experience up in comparison to someone like you, I’d have no choice but to defend until they burn down their energy and then once they tire out I’d make a chance to strike.” You sighed as you lifted your sword back up. 
“Yes that would be the logical way to go about it,” Jungkook hummed, “Contextually speaking. But there are other ways, you can use your environment to assist you, you could also have another ally help or use your size to your advantage. Being smaller means being quicker. Again.” 
You both tapped swords before sparring once more, Jungkook easily more aggressive this time causing you to back step until you back stepped right into the deeper snow causing you to yelp, whining out at the freezing damp sensation seeping through your dress into your skin. 
“That’s not what I meant when I said use the environment.” Jungkook sighed as he rested the flat of the blade on his shoulder. 
You managed to step out back onto the shallow end as you whined out, “I am perfectly aware of what you meant! I’m trying! I just can’t seem to get it…” You let out a defeated sigh as a tremor jolted through your body at catching the cold nip of breeze. 
Jungkook only shook his head somewhat amused, “How about we rest for the evening and get you close to the fire once more.” His hand curling around your waist as you both walked back to camp, “You shouldn’t have such high expectations of yourself, I’ve been training since I was a child, you’ve come a long way for only training the last six months.”
“Sparring is also different then a real duel or battle,” Yoongi spoke, as he had been watching you both the last hour in amusement, “If you’re already doing this good in a spar, you’ll be able to hold your own perfectly fine in either.” 
“This is also true,” Jungkook yawned as he sat down on the large mat, offering a hand to you to help you down, “The adrenaline is different, when it comes to life or death, you fight with more than your all, more than you could ever muster for a spar, even a duel.” 
“I just hope it never comes to that.” You sighed with a shiver, scooting closer to the warmth of the fire. 
“What matters is that you’ll be ready m’lady.” Wheein offered a kind smile as she continued, “And I agree with his Highness, you’ve improved significantly compared to when you first started, it’s something to take pride in, you’ll only improve with time.” 
“The chances are slim but it never hurts to be prepared,” Yoongi chimed in once more, “Dinner is ready.”
The rest of the evening had passed with laughter and fellowship that you found yourself truly enjoying, and at some point you had tried to remember when the last time you had felt this at ease, this…at home? 
Even in Eunoia, tragedy had always surrounded you during your youth, uncertainty of the war and the future as a growing lady and plunged into icy fear as a young woman, you wanted to say you had other moments of relaxation. 
But you couldn’t think of a single time, except for this moment, you found yourself curling up against Jungkook, yawning as your eyes began to droop and your head resting on his shoulder.
When your eyes opened once more, you were uncertain of how much time had passed other than the indication that everyone else had departed to their tents. 
Jungkook had been leaning on one hand, the other wrapped around you as he had stared thoughtfully in the fire before realizing you had awoke, “Are you ready to depart for bed?” 
It was a quiet usher that made you nod with another yawn, letting him help you up as you walked over to your shared tent.
Due to the few people in your party, a circle of tents was formed, yours however just a little closer to the fire upon your request and how could you be blamed on a frigid night such as this? Even Fenrir was curled up right next to the fire, paying you both no mind as he continued to rest. 
The tent wasn’t extremely spacious, but it gave you enough room to get what you needed done without being on top of one another, “Let’s get you out of this.” 
“And into what?” You were more awake now than before, “Did Wheein leave me something?” 
Jungkook looked down at you, a sort of boyish look on his face making you pinch him, “Don’t look at me like that,” He chuckled softly grabbing your hand away from his bicep, “We have plenty of furs, and i’ll let you sleep on the fireside, it’s making me hot being that close anyways.” 
“It’s too cold!” You whined out quietly. 
“You really want to sleep like that?” Jungkook was already stripping himself, “I’m burning up personally.” 
Your lips parted multiple times at the sight of his chiseled muscles, biceps flexing as he pulled down his pants revealing the taunt thick muscles of his thighs, even more notably his undergarments.
“Come,” Jungkook had a small smirk on his face as if knowing your eyes roamed his body despite how hard you were trying to be discreet, “Let me undress you.” 
You let out a discontented noise but it was difficult to say no when he looked like this and he was looking at you like that, shuffling over you sat on your knees in front of him, Jungkook leaned forward peeling off each layer with a sort of lethargy, as if in no big hurry. 
Despite the chilled air you could still feel the lick of fire through the thick cloth tent, dropping the last layer down your shoulders you shuddered, a sort of shyness creeping over you as you felt your nipples immediately hardening at being exposed.
Jungkook helped you shuffled out of the last layer, in nothing more than your panties now, “It’s freezing,” You whispered, trying hard to not let yourself feel self conscious at being close to naked in the tinted firelight that your husband could easily see, “If you’re content let’s go to bed.” 
“Ah,” Jungkook immediately stopped you, eyes staying on your soft perked tits, “The cold will help keep you healthy.” He had a stupid boyish look on his face again as he leaned in, warm breath fanning along your cheek before he leaned down unable to resist parting his lips to take your left tit into his mouth. 
You let out a breath louder than you intended, but the you couldn’t help it, the sharp contrast between the cold air and his warm wet tongue had your body flush with arousal, and clearly you weren’t the only one as your eyes dropped down, a solid print formed showing your husband was also feeling the same. 
“Jungkook, it's too cold for this…!” You whined out quietly despite your legs immediately parting for him to sit between as he moaned against your breast, other hand squeezing your left tit as he pinched your hardened bud between his thumb and finger while suckling on the other.
You forced the moan back into your throat.
Jungkook finally released your bud from his lips, looking up at you with dark eyes full of arousal, “Well then we’ll just have to warm you up then won’t we, my goddess?” His hand slithering down your waist as he parted his lips once more your left tit, sucking harshly making you jolt. 
His fingers pushing beneath your panties as his fingers dragging against your puffy slit as you let out a breathy noise legs parting further for him as you leaned back on your hands, hips shifting to give him more access to your cunt. 
Jungkook was delighted by the invitation you could tell by the way he harshly sucked your bud, middle finger suddenly pushing inside you, sliding in with a slight pinch of discomfort that didn’t last long as he pushed all the way until his knuckle met with your body. 
“We can’t be too loud now,” Jungkook’s lips curled into a smirk, “So you’ll need to be a good girl for me and be quiet.” 
You bit down on your lip as he pushed his index finger inside you the pinched discomfort returning the sensation of his fingers pushing in and out of your little hole had you relaxing into his touch with a soft moan, walls squeezing around his fingers with each thrust. 
“Mmm that’s a good girl,” Jungkook grinned, pupils dilated in lust as he buried his fingers back inside your cunt, feeling your little walls clench around him once more before he brushed his thumb over your clit a higher pitch whine escaping you, “Ah, ah, remember,” Jungkook looked amused, “You need to be quiet if you want to cum all over my fingers princess.” 
“Kook,” You whispered, eyes closed tight at the feeling of his thumb teasingly brushing over your clit, fingers buried deep inside you as your walls tightened around his digits, “Please…!” 
The cold air was wrapping around your body, but the sharp contracts of his warm tongue and fingers burying inside you.
Jungkook laid you back against the fur before pulling your panties off, “You’ll get your pleasure, but you need to be a good girl and wait,” His voice was deep and soft taking off his own underwear to reveal his heavy, thick cock fully hardened, he parted your legs as you tensed cold air invading your cunt as he pushed his fingers back inside you, your clit extra sensitive from the cold with each little brush of his thumb, every little tease sent a sharp jolt of pleasure in your body.
Wet sticky arousal dripping from you little hole as you squeezed around his fingers, wiggling your hips a little with a whine, “Kook, need more..” You whispered out, not liking this slow teasing game. 
“Patience,” Jungkook replied, fingers pulling out of you only a little just to thrust them back in, he did this once more, even rougher, his pace was just right, hitting that sweet little spot inside your body that your walls clenching each time as your legs twitched. 
Jungkook’s free hand rubbed through your puffy wet slit before he gripped the base of his cock, a hissed grunt escaping him as he slowly pumped his base, watching the lewd act immediately made a soft moan escape you, just the idea of his fat cock inside you had you clenching hard around him as he began arithmetically thrusting his fingers into that sweet little spot.
“Fuuck you like watching me stroke my fat cock for you my love?” Jungkook let out a wicked look, his hand running all the way up his cock, thumb messily smearing his precum over his fat bulbous head before running it back down meanwhile his other hand began forcefully shoving inside your little hole greedily.
His thumb circling your clit as pleasure began shooting through your body, your eyes never leaving his cock that he squeezed tightly in his hand pumping it eagerly as his eyes flickered between your cunt sucking in his fingers needily and your face, entranced by his movements.
It made his shaft throb so bad in pleasure it hurt, he threw his head back with a low moan hips lifting as he thrusted his cock into his fist, feeling your little hole squeeze so tight around him it was difficult to move his fingers.
Jungkook locked eyes with you, that wicked look on his face, “What do you think that little ex lover of yours would say if he could see you right now?” 
“Mmm! Right there…!” You whimpered out, struggling to keep your voice quiet as your legs turned limp at how rough he was thrusting his fingers into that sweet little spongy spot inside you, “Kook, right there…!” 
Jungkook lifted his hips once more, fucking his fist at the way your legs lifted up, bringing them to your chest to obediently spread your cunt further for him, “Would he say I’m corrupting you right now?” 
You had to bite down on your hand to fight back the whines and moans trying to escape you, “Please…! Please.” You kept muttering it, body twisting and building so fast your mind was completely blank aside from the filth Jungkook was whispering to you.
“That I’m tainting his pretty little Eunoian princess, filling her cunt up until she’s completely fucked out cumming all over my fingers?” Jungkook harshly squeezed the base of his cock, keeping his knuckles buried in your cunt as he rapidly hit into your g-spot. 
Jungkook wanted to laugh at the strangled high pitched moan escaping you as you desperately tried to keep it quiet, feeling your warm little walls wrap tight around his fingers as you came, arms wrapping around your face to try and keep your cries of pleasure to yourself.
Jungkook eased you through your orgasm before pulling his fingers out of you, low breathes escaping you as your chest lifted and dropped before letting your arms drop from your face to the crude sight of Jungkook’s fingers in his mouth, eyes closed with soft moan as he licked your cum off them.
“This is the best way I could have ever relaxed.” Jungkook pulled his fingers from his mouth with a content look as he laid down next to you, your eyes however still on his hardened cock. 
“But you…” You frowned. 
Jungkook raised his brows before his eyes dropped to his cock before shrugging, “I don’t cum easily, a good and bad thing I guess. C’mere love.” 
“How do you want me?” Jungkook’s eyes snapped back open as they met yours, as if trying to figure out if he heard you correct, “I want you to feel good too, how do you want me?” 
Jungkook moaned softly closing his eyes once more, unable to look at those cute, eager little eyes of yours, basically asking to be filled up by him. 
“Ride my cock.” Jungkook replied, admittedly getting difficult to keep his eyes open, but he’d rather kill himself then miss the opportunity to cum inside your pretty, puffy little cunt. 
You knew what he meant, you had gathered as much the last time but you just… you awkwardly straddled him, his hands on your hips to help guide you, this wouldn’t be as difficult as last time right?
Grabbing his cock in your hand you heard a gritted hiss through his teeth, rubbing his bulbous head through your wet folds before lining him against your entrance, unlike last time you sank onto it.
Biting your lip as you squeezed your eyes shut, rather than a pinch the discomfort was still moderate, but not nearly as much as the first time. 
“Mmm fuck,” Jungkook moaned softly, still unable to process that he was getting to feel your warm little walls wrapping around his thick head, “Does it still hurt?” 
His hands soothingly rubbed up to your waist before back to your hips, “A little,” You whispered, settling your hands on his chest, “I still don’t know what I’m doing.” 
Jungkook opened his lidded eyes, trying his damn hardest to not fall asleep right now, “It’s not difficult, just a matter of practice. Sink a little lower…” Jungkook bit his lower lip a little at watching his cock sink further inside your warm cunt, “Now lift your hips like this.” 
You let his hands guide your movements as you let out a soft whine, the pain subsiding as his cock began to slide inside you with ease, stuffing you so full it was difficult to believe you had something this big inside you. 
Just the feeling of his heavy cock burying inside your cunt made your walls wrap tighter around him, slowly bouncing on his cock as Jungkook’s hands settled on your hips, “Fuck yeah love, just like that, riding my fuckin’ cock like you were made for it.” 
His words of pleasure made you bounce a little faster, taking him a little deeper each time before his hands tightened on your hips, suddenly grabbing you and pulling you all the way down, you let out a tiny whine at being so full of cock with no warning, walls rapidly clenching around him as you moaned.
Jungkook’s eyes were closed as he let out a breathy deep moan, “Could fall asleep like this every night, use my pretty little wife as my personal cock warmer, mmm keep squeezing around me like that.” He had a sleepy smirk on his face as his hands wrapped around your ass, urging you to start riding him once more. 
You quickly found you loved being full of cock though, cunt split open by something so thick and heavy, excitement trilled through your body making your walls wrap tight around him as you began bouncing on his cock.
Letting out quiet moans at the feeling of his shaft hitting all the right places inside you, “Mmm yeah, oh…fuck…” You whined out softly, sitting up right as you bounced all the down his cock as you grinded against his pubic bone.
Jungkook forced his tired eyes open to the amazing sight of you, his pretty wife completely naked bouncing on his cock, tits bouncing and face fucked out, clearly pleasuring yourself now, “Make me cum,” He moaned out softly, “Let me fill that pretty little cunt up.” 
You kept trying to bite back your whines as your hips became more messy in bouncing, uneven and unsteady as pleasure quickly built inside you, sinking back on his cock as your walls tightened, moaning just a hair louder as you creamed all over his cock. 
Jungkook was tired, sleep near taking him the same way you took his cum, letting it shoot deep inside you as you swiveled your hips, taking every lost drop he’d give as quiet breathes filled the tent, your own eyes closed with that same unmistakable tiredness. 
Jungkook let out a tired smile, “What a good girl.” He pulled you onto his chest, shifting you both to be buried beneath the blankets and furs, being skin to skin made you realize just how cold you had been. 
Jungkook’s skin was like fire, hot to the touch and your own personal little fire, curling up against him, your eyes immediately fell heavy, sleep had never felt so peaceful as being skin to skin with your husband.
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The journey to Kimhae had been rather uneventful and what few encounters you had with wolves and even a bear, Fenrir had easily warded them off, your baby having grown so much in the last months now standing just a little taller than your horse.
Jungkook had been up ahead chatting with Yoongi for awhile now, something regarding plans on resuming the Eastern movement when you returned from Yule.
Wheein had been riding by you for awhile now in a comfortable silence aside from a few comments to Fenrir who had been running ahead in the snow and finding random branches to be thrown, the only problem being they were too heavy for you to toss. 
“Something on your mind Wheein?” You finally asked, having noticed a faraway look in her eyes for a good while now. 
Her eyes met yours before she gave a small, weak smile, “Nothing incredibly important I just…” She faltered a little, “I know the past cannot be changed but, I can’t help but feel like so many events could have been avoided if it weren’t for me.” 
You straightened up, frowning immediately at her words, “What would make you say that?”
Wheein hesitated to speak, “...What happened, with my execution, you…” It looked as if it was physically difficult to attempt to finish her sentence, “I know how important keeping your culture intact is for you. You’ve done nothing but try to become a Penumbrian Princess, and for you to be put in a position where you had to compromise your own personal oath and belief…” Wheein let out a shaky breath, visibly puffing in the cold air as her eyes looked watery, “I feel as though I haven’t given you a proper apology M’lady.” 
Your heart felt like it was twisted, “You have nothing to apologize over Wheein. I am still mourning many things but I…I don’t regret what I did. I said it once and I will say it again, I was willing to do anything to get you back. Di Jin was the assassin who attempted to kill me, which started this entire mess…I don’t know how much you’ve heard about the Estate…”
Wheein’s lips stayed in a frown, cheeks flush and rosy from the cold wind as she adjusted her shawl, shaking her head, “Only whispers of rumors to what happened, and my own assumptions when you intervened on my execution.” 
You let out a shaky sigh, trying your best to detach yourself from the memory as you recalled the events that lead up to that fateful night, “They had lured Yoongi away and I foolishly sent him in good faith that nothing would happen but…Di Jin revealed himself that night revealing that he had come to finish what he started. He almost did,” Your hand trembled as you pressed it against your chest, “Then he got closer to me, trying to kiss my neck and…I don’t know.”
And that was the funniest part, you still had vivid clips of what happened in your head, but it was all so fast, so gorey, your mind had blotted out a lot of it, “One minute he was on top of me, and the next minute I was covered in blood.” 
There it was, that distinct iron on your tongue, it made you sick to your stomach, “And I didn’t stop after he was dead,” Your lips trembled as you whispered, “That’s the part that scares me the most. He was dead and I kept going, I...it was like I was possessed, unable to stop. I felt…” It felt like bile was beginning to rise in your throat as you swallowed it back, “Good. Powerful, invincible in that moment, feeling his flesh in my mouth, the taste of his blood on my tongue-” 
Your hand suddenly grabbed your lips, trying to swallow back the bile which risen much faster, immediately grabbing the water satchel that hung off the saddle of your horse, taking a long drink from it to try and wash what you had just admitted away. 
It had been plaguing the back of your mind every moment it was quiet, the fact that something inside you liked it, even enjoyed the depraved act, showing someone who had disrespected you and your heritage, making a mockery of it for so long, a little devil inside you secretly wishing you had finished what you had started, to devoured him the way your ancestors would. 
Even now a little voice in the back of your head was thrilled by it, it never ceased to make you sick, Weak in the stomach with shame every time it crossed your mind, it felt so heretical to think let alone voice aloud, the extent of how much a secret part of you enjoyed it. 
“I am so sorry Princess,” Wheein whispered, clearly hurting for you as she held back her tears, inhaling sharply, “I still can’t believe what’s happened. I’m sure being away from Penumbra will be a good break for all of us.” 
“If I had just…” You had to stop yourself from saying what you wanted, you had the ability to heal Wheein’s mother, maybe if you had listened to Baba Enàir more carefully, had been more dedicated to your studies as a child…perhaps this whole thing could have been prevented if you had been the one to heal Wheein’s mother, disputing any claims, “I’ll never send you away so often like that without company, I never want to put you in such a compromising position Wheein and for that I am sorry.”
“We all have our grievances about what happened.” Wheein smiled sadly, “But what counts is that we are both alive and well, but…Something else does plague me.” 
You tilted your head, patiently waiting for her to continue as she gathered her thoughts, the wind blowing her black locks of hair back as she squinted her eyes, “We still never caught who sent the assassin. What if this happens once more?” 
You frowned, you had thought this as well, “Something tells me, whoever did this will try a different tactic next. We must remain vigilant, perhaps moreso in Penumbra then even in Kimhae.” You nodded in thought, “I do agree though, this will be good for all of us.” 
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This had become routine at night it seemed, waiting for everyone else to depart to bed before being guided back yourself, undressed by your husband’s large, warm hands, and then taken whatever way he wanted, with his hands, his tongue, his cock, you weren’t picky. 
You however were starting to become used to the sensation of his cock spliting you open, his cum dripping down your thighs, an unfamiliar soreness between your legs that had a sweet ache that made you crave more. 
You had never understood the idea of physical intimacy in the past, it always made your skin crawl at the idea, but then again, you never had a partner you felt you could trust like this.
More than anything, you loved being close to him like this, loved that you could be so intimate with the person you trusted more than anyone, his arms wrapped around you, laying slightly on top of your back, keeping you warm just as he promised every night. 
It was odd, the comfort it brought feeling his warm cum dribbling from your little hole as you yawned, eyes closing as you dozed off in his arms. 
It was still late into the night when you awoke to his lips pressing on your neck, moaning softly as his hips rutted into you, cock hardened once more much to your sleepy surprise, “Mm, need you my love.” His voice was much deeper, telling you he was also half asleep, “Dreamt of your pretty little cunt, letting me fill it up.”
“Mmm Kook.” You mumbled out, eyes closing as you felt your leg being propped further up to give him better access to your little entrance, his arms tightened around your waist as he managed to line his cock up before pushing it in. 
A soft sleepy moan escaped you, an entirely new position you were acquainted with but something about it made you feel so full, his cock pushing all the way inside you until his hips were flush with yours. 
Each lazy thrust of his hips had soft noises escaping you, your eyes shutting in tired bliss at his cock pushing past your little walls, filling you to the brim each time, throbbing as the head of his cock kept hitting that spongy little spot. 
Jungkook moaned as he buried his cock inside you once more, his movements having paused forcing your eyes back open, was he asleep? Your walls suddenly squeezed around his cock at being so split open by him.
This elicited a moan from his lips that sounded like pure sex, “Your cunt is heaven,” He mumbled in your skin, “Could keep my cock buried inside you forever.”
Not moving was stirring you further, making you more awake as you whined, “Jungkook, move…!” You wiggled your hips a little earning a small thrust from him.
“Think I’ll asleep like this,” He moaned once more into your skin, “Like the way your cunt wraps around me like this when I’m splitting your cunt open.” 
Jungkook moaned at feeling your cunt squeeze around him once more at his words, just like he had hoped, “Just go back to sleep my love,” He mumbled in your ear, hand pulling around to cup your tit in his hand as he massaged it making you whine in frustration as your hips began to pull and lift, sliding his cock in and out of your cunt just a little. 
“Mmm fuuck, sweetheart go to sleep.” Jungkook’s voice was a pitch higher than before, his free hand almost guiding your hips though as you fucked back against him, and your eyes were closed but sleep was not on your mind. 
Your lips parted with a soft whine at the new sensation this position gave you with him behind, his cock slide inside you just the right way brushing that sweet little spot with each bounce of your hips, it had you rapidly clenching around his cock. 
Muffling your moans into your blankets as you pushed all the way back against him wiggling your hips as pleasure throbbed throughout your cunt, feeling arousal dripping from your hole as his cock slid back inside you with ease as you let out a pathetic whine, walls wrapping harsh around him but it just wasn’t quite enough to get yourself to orgasm. 
Jungkook let out a sleepy chuckle, “Working yourself up are you?” 
It wasn’t fair…! He woke you up and you were somehow the one falling apart on his cock desperate to cum, “Koo, please.” You whimpered out quietly, shifting yourself a little to be better able to lift your hips up to his, giving his cock better access to slid in and out of your little hole with ease. 
“Mmm shit, your acting like a bitch in heat,” He moaned softly, eyes dropping to your cunt that kept backing into his cock, “You want to be fucked?” He whispered deviously in your ear. 
And Jungkook knew you did, could feel the way your walls wrapped so tight around his throbbing cock, wanting so desperately to reach your climax. 
“Jungkook…” You whispered urgently. 
“Say it.”
You let out a frustrated noise, pausing your movement but Jungkook wasn’t having it, his hand wrapping around your neck as he gave it a harsh squeeze, letting out a small gag as his voice deepened in your ear, “Beg for it little princess, beg for me. Beg for my cock.” 
Jungkook suddenly thrusted inside you, harshly making your body jolt as you whined out, shaking your head, this only made him thrust rougher causing you to squeeze around him in excitement, “Mmm like this, feels…! Good.” You whimpered out quietly, your body twitching as pleasure blossomed in your cunt, you were so close…!
Jungkook buried back inside you, stopping once more causing a louder fussy whine to escape you, his hand squeezing around your neck once more, “If you like this then you’ll love what’s next. But you need to tell me, c’mon,” His hips lazily swiveled before giving short thrusts, edging your body as your hands curled into fists, “Tell me you want my cock, that you want your pretty little cunt destroyed by me, that you want to be filled with my cum.”
You could feel saliva dripping from the corner of your mouth, his cock teasing your body with such short movements it had you whimpering, “Koo’, fuck me, please…! Need you’, need your cock, anything…!” 
Jungkook moaned as your quiet frantic plea’s as he suddenly pulled out of you, a sharp whine escaping you as he swatted your ass to be quiet, manhandling you onto you stomach as he kneeled between your legs you felt confused before your hips were lewdly lifted, presenting your cunt to him. 
You didn’t have any time to adjust or even think before his cock pushed back inside you, a moan much louder than you meant for it to escape your lips at an entirely new, better sensation, every movement of his cock had you cunt squeezing in pleasure. 
“Mmm yeah, you like being made to take it from behind?” Jungkook moaned, keeping your hips up as he thrusted inside your little entrance, watching it split open for his cock before greedily sucking it in, “Maybe this is how your little dryad kin had children? Fucking like animals?” He whispered out, hearing a gurgled whine from you only made his thrusts that much more forceful, the sound of his balls smacking into your skin music to his ears, “Being made into nothing more than a bitch desperate for cock.” 
The side of your face was planted into the ground, eyes shut in pleasure at just how good it felt, his cock hitting every little sensitive spot inside you, his demeaning words that would’ve sent flames of angry through your body once upon a time only filled you with excitement, enjoying how he manhandled you how rough he was starting to thrust, no regard for whether your cunt could take it or not. 
Your mind was filled with all sorts of unholy things, not realizing how much you were beginning to moan, enjoying the way he had a hand pressed into your back forcing you down on the ground, his balls smacking your skin and his cock pushing past your tight walls. 
“Koo’...! ‘m gonna..! Mmm!” Your moans were gurgled, desperate, cunt rapidly squeezing around his cock, a feeling he had quickly grown to love as you crumbled beneath him, at his mercy as he roughly thrusted, burying his cock deep inside you as he quickly leaned over you, chest flush with your back as his hips became faster.
Just as you let out the whinest, loudest cry his hand covered your mouth to muffle it, tears began to build in your eyes at how powerful the pleasure was building in your body, your legs uselessly twitching and your body convulsing.
But it was all useless as his cock kept sliding in and out of your small hole, “Go on sweetheart, mm know how bad you wanna cum. I see those pathetic little tears. Cum sweetheart, cream all over my fat cock, make it nice and messy for me.” 
Your body was being jolted with every thrust of his hips, your clit aching to be touched as your cunt was full of his thick shaft, his dirty words whispered in your ear making you throw a whiny pathetic fit as your walls squeezed even tighter around him, so desperate to be obedient. 
“C’mon princess,” Jungkook moaned tantalizingly in your ear, his hips pounding into you with nice lengthy thrusts, wet lewd sounds coming from how soaked you were, “Can feel it, feel how bad that pretty little cunt wants to cum, squeezing around me so tight, fuuck, that’s it, c’mon.” Jungkook wasn’t intentionally edging you but god did it feel good, you were moaning and crying into his hand, tears slowly beginning to trickle down your face at how good you felt. 
Not a single thought in your head other than his cock stuffing you full, purposely dragging into the little spongy spot each time just edging you a little closer each time to your release.
“Does your little pussy feel good?” He teased you, a wicked grin on his face as his hips pushed fully inside you, giving short thrusts to keep you as full of cock as possible, “You like presenting this little hole to me? Letting me fuck my seed deep inside, my pretty wife who swore she’d never let me cuff her in bed? How does it feel knowing I’m going to fill your pretty little cunt up?”
Jungkook let out a low moan, feeling your muffled voice cry out against the skin of his palm as your cunt rapidly clenched around him cumming so hard it felt like your eyes were rolling to the back of your head. 
And Jungkook wasn’t stopping, his hips slammed into you, wet lewd sounds filling the tent and his balls smacking into your skin as he kept his hand on your mouth to keep your moans and cries of pleasure quiet, unable to subdue them yourself anymore, as the pleasure kept going, his hips jostling you around before you felt it.
“Fuck!” Jungkook growled out, burying his cock inside you as he came, roughly pumping his cock inside you as he let out a shaky moan, letting your greedy cunt suck every drop from him as he moaned, perhaps louder then even he intended. 
After a few more seconds he collapsed on top of you, making you whine, sniffling as you wiped your face as you felt his hand drag to your waist, stroking it tenderly as he pressed a kiss against your neck, “You’re so perfect.” He whispered, pressing another kiss against your skin, “Made for me. Only me.” His hand squeezed your waist, before he laid flat on his back shifting you around to lay against him, your body curling up as you set your head against his chest.
Your thighs were aching and your hand trembled if you looked close enough as you dragged it over his chest.
And for the first time, with the fire illuminating the inside of the tent, you took the time to drag it over the rough skin of his chest and upon closer inspection noticed all sorts of marks, curiously you shifted once more. 
“Was twice not enough for my little sun?” Jungkook chuckled as you straddled his waist, his hands wrapping around your hips, “We’ll need to start retiring earlier if you want me to have more stamina.” 
“I’m not…!” You felt your body flush, trying to remind yourself that you were in fact naked right now, “I’m just looking.”
“Mmm, so am I.” Jungkook’s eyes trailing down your exposed body to your cunt, watching the white substance dripping out onto his skin, “If I weren’t already exhausted I’d already have you bent over again.” 
“Jungkook!” You whispered out, starting to feel embarrassed now, “Stop…please.” 
He let out a tired, boyish smile and staring down at him you couldn’t help but mirror it, he looked much younger like this, more like his age, eyes lidded from tiredness as his hands wrapped further, fingers digging into your ass, “Is it a crime to admire my wife? You’re only sitting on top of me naked.” 
“I’ve seen you shirtless many times now,” You decided to no longer entertain his dirty thoughts, slowly lowering yourself down his chest making his fingers squeeze tighter around your ass, “But i’ve never truly paid attention.”
“To my godly physique?”
This made you both quietly laugh as you shook your head, unable to not be endeared by this new playful side of him you had never seen, “How did you know?” You whispered back, a light tease in your voice as your hand traced over his sternum, “I meant the scars…How many battles did you fight in?” 
Jungkook palmed your ass in his hands, massaging the flesh as he yawned, eyes closing as he hummed potentially trying to recall, “Too many to count honestly, I was drafted before the Five Year War started as to be properly prepared.” 
Your fingers traced over each scar, some long and thin, others short and deeper, few discolored still having never properly healed, others faded and hardly visibly, “How’d you get this one?” Your finger’s stopped on his left right, a circular scar it was small, as if he had been pierced.
Jungkook’s eyes slowly lidded once more, following where your fingers pressed, “When we first rode to Rolon for war, an archer shot me right off my horse, my only saving grace from death was the wind otherwise it would’ve pierced my heart, y'know it’s said the Rolon Archer’s were trained since children, they could shoot a coin from over a hundred yards away.”
“You were injured before the battle had even begun?” You whispered out, perhaps a little amused at his story. 
Jungkook’s hand trailed down the back of your thigh, pulling them apart just a little making your hips brush over his skin, the feeling of wet stickiness rubbing over his skin, “It was my first endeavor by myself, my men were counting on me to lead them, you can imagine it was a pretty pathetic sight.”
“So how did you manage to siege them if you could not get close?” You tilted your head, resting your elbows down his chest, your hips appeasing him as you softly grinded down on his pubic bone. 
“We had all camped outside their outer districts, preparing ourselves,” Jungkook let out a pleasured hum, eyes closed once more and fingers trailing back to your ass before settling at your steady, soft movement, “We could not get close to their borders without them shooting us down by the tens if not hundreds. And so we would have to make ourselves unknown, invisible.”
A quiet moan escaped him at the feeling of your hips pulling just a little further down just above where his cock was beginning to stir despite his own lethargy. 
“Invisible?” Tiredness was beginning to pull at your lids but you enjoyed this too much, the conversation, the feeling of your puffy, cum covered slit grinding against him, making him break focus, “Surely that wouldn’t be possible?” 
“Invisible to the faraway eye that is,” Jungkook’s brows pinched, fingers gripping your ass a little tighter as your hips dragged just along the base of his hardening cock, weepy and sensitive from having already came inside you twice this night, “Mmm, I didn’t think you’d be such a little lust driven succubus once we consummated.”
It made you grind him just a little harder, the feeling of his cock bobbing before it smacked against your cunt, fully hardened and precum smearing against your asscheek. 
“I’m trying to have a conversation,” You teased, hands traveling over the expanse of his chest before your fingers found his dark nipples, curiously you pinched them a little, “You’re the one that’s making it sexual.” 
A restrained moan escaped him as his eyes cracked open, you couldn’t help your curiosity, fascinated at his different reactions to different things, after all, you were learning his body just as much as he was learning of yours. 
“Sex is dripping off of you,” Jungkook sighed, feeling your hips tease his cock once more, puffy slit rubbing down it’s base before back to his pubic bone, “I can’t help the way my body reacts to it, climbing on top of me naked isn’t a productive way to have a conversation.” 
You couldn’t help but close your eyes briefly, relishing in the feeling of his heady, heavy cock dragging through your puffy slit, coating it in a mixture of your wetness and cum. 
Feeling his shaft rubbing into your sensitive clit was you let out a soft moan, “You didn’t continue your story. How were you invisible.” Your hips dragged back to his pubic bone, pausing your movement to try and refocus your conversation. 
Jungkook let out a displeased sound, fingers digging against your ass once more, “If you want to hear my stories, keep entertaining me.” 
“Can you stay focused?” You gave him a mischievous smile, slowly pulling back up to your elbows, his eyes immediately on your tits. 
“As long as you don’t make me cum,” Jungkook retorted right back, a cocky grin on his face, “Well?” You tried not to shy away from his expression as your hips slowly began rubbing on him once more, teasing the base of his cock as he let out a soft pleasured moan, eyes slowly closing once more to enjoy the feeling as he recalled, “I proposed to my men that we would camouflage ourselves with the terrain, we covered ourselves in mud and moss, whatever greenery we could and crawled on the earth to evade their eyes.” 
His fingers dragged down to the back of your thighs once more as your hips dragged a little lower down his shaft as your clit throbbed making a soft moan escape you, “That’s how you managed to siege their capitol Montclair?”
His fingers pulled your thighs apart, opening your slit a little more as it rubbed along is shaft back to his base, “Mmhm, like that,” He whispered out at feeling your hips pause at the base of his cock, wiggling a little to push it further between the lips of your cunt. 
Silence had suddenly taken over as your eyes shut, enjoying being able to pleasure your husband as your hips slowly rode the base of his cock, letting it slip against your lips and rub along your clit.
This type of pleasure was slow, tantalizing, making his hips rut a little, gliding with ease against your soaked cunt, “What about this one.” Your fingers briefly brushed along his left breast, a long wicked line crossing it as you slowed your hips back down. 
“Training accident when I was younger,” Jungkook murmured out, sounding half asleep, “I had assumed Hoseok was going for a lower strike but he tricked me, he got too close and accidentally sliced me right across the chest, it was a larger wound when it had first happened.” 
Jungkook had a faint smile on his lips as his hands dragged to your waist, keeping a firm grip to encourage your hips, his eyes pulled open only a little, “He wouldn’t stop crying while profusely apologizing to me, saying he’d do anything to keep the wrath from my father at bay.” 
“Did he hear about it?” Your moan was mixed with your soft laugh, grinding down as your clit dragged against his skin.
Jungkook’s breath hitched, “No, it only went as far as my aunt. She merely laughed it off, saying it was good practice for the real deal.”
You paused your movement, hands tracing down his particularly slim waist, just at the bottom of his ribcage, “And this?”
You lifted yourself up as Jungkook opened his eyes, “No looking.” You whispered out. 
This made him confused before he let out a quiet laugh, closing his eyes once more, “I’ve seen it already princess, you can’t hide anything from me at this point.”
“I’m…testing…it’s lewd.” You tried not to be embarrassed as you sat down on his taunt, thick muscular thighs, legs still parted as you situated your cunt against his base once more, “How did you get that scar?” You prompted him once more. 
Jungkook seemed to be having an increasingly harder time focusing as he felt it, your cunt making contact with the sensitive underside of his cock, your hips lifting to drag against his shaft, “It was when we attempted war with Kyoto, I was in the frontlines with the other underlings and an assassin of Kyoto had made his way into the trenches.”
Jungkook’s jaw was clenched as he felt your hand wrap around the head of his cock, giving short as he let out a breathy moan, hand running through his hair, “He was a full grown man and we were nothing more than boys pretending to be men. His sword longer than us all,” He bit down on his lip at your hand squeezing his cock, your cunt sliding against his base, “He cut two of the other underlings in half with just one swing, I was almost the third, I had barely managed to jump back in time but the tip of his blade still cut through me, blood was everywhere.”
“How did you live?” You whispered out, sadness somewhere deep inside you filled your heart through the haze of lust. 
“Jimin had managed to jump on his back,” Jungkook let out another breath moan at feeling your hand drag down his cock, “Stabbed him in the neck, he choked on his own blood as they all rushed to get first aid for me. I almost bled out that night but by some miracle they had managed to stop the bleeding and get me stitches.” 
Jungkook groaned as his hands curled into fists, pleasure becoming much stronger than it was supposed to, “Enough please.” 
The movements ceased, “Does it not feel good?” 
“It feels too good, I told you to not make me cum.” Jungkook sighed softly in relief as he felt you change positions back to your original, the weight of your body situated once more fully on top of him, “Mmm warm my cock.”
“I don’t understand how that works.” You whispered out, a bit embarrassed, you were a fast learner but you still didn’t know all the ends and outs of how all of this worked. 
This made Jungkook laugh softly, endeared at your words as he forced his tired eyes back open, “It’s simple honestly, sit on my cock, let it stay warm inside you. I’ll be able to focus and recall events more better that way.”
“Really?” You replied skeptically.
“Mhm, what else do you want to know?” Jungkook let a crooked smirk tug on his lips as you grabbed the base of his cock, obediently doing as he told you, the fat head pushing inside you, a noise escaping you both. 
Slowly you slid down his cock until your hips were flush with his, “Mmm, what now?” It was hard to focus now having him stuffing you so full. 
Jungkook let out a long content sigh, “Nothing, this is it. Ask away.”
His hands lovingly stroked your hips as you suddenly struggled to speak, feeling his fat large cock throbbing inside you, walls clenching around him as your arousal dripped.
Jungkook let out an amused breath, “Cat got your tongue?”
You shook your head, slowly leaning back down to rest yourself on his chest, but somehow laying made your body feel even more full, “This one?” Your words were soft, trembled with a quiet whine, fingers brushing over his right bicep, a thin long line curving around it. 
Jungkook’s hands stroked your waist before trailing over your back, “It happened during our siege of Prokiev, the battle happened overnight and it was dark out, fire my only source for my fight with their royal guard captain, our adrenaline was running out and we were both ragged, he threw a sloppy blow aiming for my chest but I moved away and back, the edge of his blade managed to pierce right through my chainmail. It wasn’t a serious injury.”
Jungkook let out a soft pleasured sigh at your little walls clenching around him, seemingly unable to relax with him buried this deep and unmoving in your cunt, “It serves as a reminder though.”
“To what?” You whispered out, setting your head down on his chest, biting down on your lip once more, trying so, so hard to focus on his words and not his cock, it felt like he was completely stretching you out, hitting all the way up into your stomach though surely that wasn’t possible. 
Even if it felt like it was. 
“That many want me dead, sharpening their blades that even a shallow cut could one day maim me or better yet kill me. Sometimes I wonder how I survived,” Jungkook murmured, eyes closing as he fought the sleep off, “Each of these scars is proof that I’m still here, that somehow despite all of the odds, whether it was pure luck, or pure skill, I lived another day. Learned, grew from my mistakes.”
Your eyes had fallen shut, tiredness pulling you into a lull as you felt a blanket being pulled over you, engulfing you in warmth once more. 
You let out a ghost of a whine at feeling the slightest rut of his hips, cock making sure it was buried as far inside you as possible, Jungkook pressed a kiss against your head, “Something above let me live, let me marry you, the love of my life.” 
Your eyes had become heavier with each passing gentle press of his lips, you had soon fallen asleep to the sweet sensation of his lips feathering your skin, hands stroking your side, cock keeping you full and ushers of love on his lips. 
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While the journey had been safe and overall good travel, to say you were relieved to be in Kimhae was an understatement, the air was cold, but it didn’t have that wet sharp feeling it did in Penumbra, and only a bit of frost covered the ground now.
Your thickest layers were shedded during travel as it got warmer much to your relief, more than anything you were ready to see your family, and even more so ready to sleep in a proper bed and rest.
You couldn’t voice it aloud to anyone but your thighs were sore from not only riding your horse but also from other nefarious activities late into the night, you were absolutely ready to stand on your own two feet for the next week. 
Upon entering the gates of Kimhae the sight was familiar enough to you, elegant towering buildings, busy towns people who all seemed to pause from their business at the sight of not just you but your husband, whispers broke out and if your life in Penumbra had helped you with one thing, it was being able to ignore the stares.
Riding next to your husband as you made your way through the capitol until you arrived at the large gates of the palace, the courtyard open and lush, what you hadn’t expected was the sight of someone so familiar and yet…now had become a total stranger to you. 
Kim Seokjin, the man you had once thought was the love of your life, only to realize that this was a feeble, childish type of love, the type of love you think is love until you truly fall in love. 
He stood tall and proud as his eyes locked onto your figure, standing in white double buttoned vest and long sleeve, royal blue cape cascading behind him dramatically. 
He looked like something out of a fairytale and you couldn’t deny Seokjin was just as handsome as you remembered, clean cut and warm skin. 
Coming to a stop, your vision of him was somewhat blocked by your husband, and for the first time seeing them almost side by side made you realize just how different they were, Jungkook dawned in all black, hair array from travel and longer then when you had first met, well overdue for a trim. 
His look, all too familiar, neutral but often coming across as dark and brooding to a person who wasn’t well acquainted with him.
And you supposed you must have seemed different from your old self as well, you no longer wore flowery apparel light apparel, now often dawned in black and maroons, today no different though you had gone without the fuss and feathers to make travel easier, a plain black gown with an under layer of red peeping out, sleeves dramatically long but slits having formed to make movement easier, another white long sleeve layer beneath to keep you warm as well as curl up to your neck.
Jungkook had already dismounted his horse, holding his hands out to you as you stood up in your saddle, pulling your leg over before you felt the security of his hands wrap around your waist, lifting you down safely. 
You offer him a tiny smile of thanks as you turn to face Seokjin, the hand staying curled around your waist however did not go unnoticed by you as you both walked to greet your ex-lover. 
“Seokjin, I cannot thank you enough for your invitation,” You gave him a soft smile, perhaps a sort of soft spot for him still lingered in your chest, after all, while your love might not have been deep, it was something, and you’d take it for what it was, “It’s been a long time.” 
“Yes, I’m relieved to see you alive and well, it’s been too long.” Seokjin’s eyes were locked onto you and only you, and briefly you felt a sort of severed connection. 
His eyes drilling into you with a sort of passion that you only blinked at with a friendly polite smile, him taking your hand into his own as he lifted it to his lips, “Truthfully I don’t think enough time has passed.” 
Your hand was suddenly snatched away by a much larger one, Jungkook’s expression had quickly gone from neutral to one hundred percent leering and unfriendly, that typical icy Jeon glare as he spoke coldly, “Kim Seokjin.”
Seokjin’s eyes burned into the sight, Jungkook’s hand holding onto your own in a sort of protective manner, as if he assumed the man’s kiss to your hand would maim you.
“Jeon Jungkook.” Seokjin’s eyes twisted into a glare, but it simply didn’t have the same bite as Jungkook’s, “I can’t say I remember inviting the Jeon’s.”
“Interesting you say that,” Jungkook replied, a haughty cold look on his face, “Given one found its way to my wife,” He glanced down at you, a squeeze of his hand on your waist and his hand releasing your own only for his fingers to trace your jawbone, “Only the most beautiful Jeon.”
Jungkook’s thumb tugged at your lower lip and you couldn’t help but shy away from his gaze, somewhat flustered at such an open display of affection, “What my husband means to say is we’ve come here to represent Penumbra together, I hope this will be the first of many Yule’s we can all come together and celebrate the Rite of Peace.” 
You could tell by Seokjin’s gritted smile that whatever he had anticipated this was not it, it softened however as his eyes landed on you, “For you, I’d do anything Y/n.” His gaze became more sharp as they locked back onto Jungkook, “...And I suppose that goes for you as well. I hope your stay in Kimhae treats you well.”
“As do I.” Jungkook retorted, “Now if you’ll excuse us, we’d like to rest after our journey.”
You briefly glanced up at Jungkook, brow furrowing in a little bit of annoyance, you understood that Jungkook absolutely did not like Seokjin in the least, but couldn’t he be a little more discreet about it? 
This being your first public appearance as a couple meant you’d have to be careful how you presented yourselves, if he wanted to quarrel with the man you did not care as long as he did it in private where prying eyes and ears couldn’t witness it.
“Of course,” Seokjin almost sneered at him, making you shuffle a bit uncomfortable at seeing the men nearly bearing teeth at one another, “My head maid will show you to your room.” 
Seokjin gave you one last look, and you couldn’t quite describe it, it was one of yearning and longing, and yet it wasn’t reciprocated as you allowed Jungkook to lead you both into the palace following behind the maid. 
“What was all of that about?” You whispered reprimanding to Jungkook. 
Jungkook only looked ahead, “He touched you.” 
“...He was being polite.” You reasoned, you had never seen such displays from Jungkook before- well aside from the time Claudin had taken your hand. 
Come to think of it, you supposed this was less rash then when he pressed a knife into Claudin’s neck for so much as grabbing your hand to kiss, truthfully you should be thankful it didn’t escalate so quickly to that. 
Stepping into your guest room you paused, realizing this was the room you used to stay in when you were a maiden...Seokjin probably still has the route memorized…had he thought you’d come to Kimhae alone?
You shook the ridiculous notion away as you took your cloak off, Jungkook shut the door to your shared room, “He touched you.” He emphasized it. 
You turned around, raising your eyebrows, not understanding what he was getting at, Jungkook huffed, “Men who touch women like that aren’t being friendly.” 
“It was my hand!” You pouted, “You’ve touched my hands plenty of times.”
“And look where it led.” Jungkook countered as he took his own outer apparel off, “That’s just the way it goes. And perhaps because I also know you’ve sucked his cock-”
“Jungkook!” You cried out, embarrassment flooding through you, “Don’t say it so loud!” 
This made Jungkook chuckle as he sat on the foot of the bed, “Hmm, you’ve never sucked my cock before come to think of it.” He laughed even louder at suddenly being hit with the cloak you launched at him.
“I am tired and taking a nap, you can either join me or sleep on the floor if you keep being crude.” You kicked your riding shoes off as you pulled the covers curling up in bed, his body immediately beside you, arms wrapping around your waist. 
“I can’t help it,” Jungkook replied, snickering into your shoulder, “You’re easy to tease.” 
674 notes · View notes
thalia-writes · 3 months
Text
Distractions NSFW
Captain John Price X Reader
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Summary: You are being reprimanded for being distracted lately, little does John know, he's the distraction.
Word count: 3.2K
18+ only
Minors do not interact!
Warnings: Smut, P!inV!, female reader, praise kink, dom!Price, oral fem receiving, creampie if you squint.
Authors note: This is my second work ever so please any and all constructive criticism/feedback is very much appreciated!
One foot in front of the other, you keep pace with the people around you. You were training with the other recruits, running through an obstacle course. The afternoon sun warms your back, sweat gathering on your forehead. Keeping your breathing as even as possible, you focus on staying centered and pushing through the pain. You were in the zone, absolutely crushing the course. Leaping up onto the wall, you pull yourself over the edge and jump off, landing on your feet and immediately running again. Suddenly pulled out of your focus when you hear Price shouting out to the recruits behind you.
“C’mon keep it moving!! You’ll need to be faster than that to survive out in the field!”
Your gaze locks on him, the pure male dominance radiating off of him. Everything about him screams power and my god does it stir something within you. Your mind starts wandering as you take in his figure, inappropriate thoughts invading your mind. Price turns his head and locks eyes with you, at the exact moment you stumble and crash to the ground, scratching up your palms and knees.
“L/N!! My office in 2 hours at 16:00, understand?” Price yells out at you with a frown. You nod as you stand up, dusting yourself off.
“Good, now go get yourself cleaned up, you’re done for the day.”
“Yes, sir.” You reply, walking back to base, cheeks burning with embarrassment.
~2 hours later~
You’re walking to Price’s office, anxiety stirring in your gut. The closer you get to his office, the harder it is to keep putting one foot in front of the other. You nervously chew on your lip as you stop in front of the door. Taking a deep breath to try and calm your nerves, you gently knock. You hear a gruff ‘come in’ from the other side so you turn the doorknob and step inside, closing the door behind you.
“Evening, Y/N. Please, take a seat.” Price gestures to the chairs in front of his desk. You walk over and sit down, your knees threatening to buckle underneath you. Looking over at John as he finishes up some paperwork, you watch his hands as they guide the pen in his grasp. Soon your thoughts have spiraled into wondering how they would feel guiding your body, touching, caressing, teasing, and trailing across your skin. You’re ripped out of your little daydream when John waves his hand in front of your face. Snapping your eyes up to his, you’re met with a frown and concern flashing across his features.
“This is what I’m talking about! Were you even listening?” John scolds, leaning forward in his chair. Averting your gaze, you ramble out an apology.
“I apologize Sir, I wasn’t paying attention. I got, uh, lost in my thoughts for a moment”
John sighs and rubs a hand down his face before looking at you again, folding his hands together on the desk.
“You seem to be doing a lot of that as of late. What has gotten into you? Like today, one minute you’re running through the obstacle course like an old pro, and the next you’re tripping over air and getting a face full of dirt.” John states, shaking his head before continuing. “This has been going on for a while, and it’s gotten to the point where we need to have a conversation about where your head's at. What has got you so distracted?”
Your heart drops into your stomach. How the hell am I supposed to tell him that he is why I’m so god damn distracted? You think to yourself. You move your head to the side, looking at the wall, cheeks burning with embarrassment.
“I- uh, It’s nothing Sir, just some personal things. I’ll get it under control.”
His intense gaze bores into you, making you shift in your chair. You don’t realize he’s moved until he’s standing right in front of you. His hand grasps your chin, turning your head towards him. You look up at him with wide eyes, catching his piercing blue eyes staring down at you. He leans forward, towering over you, so close that you can smell his intoxicating cologne.
“Something tells me that you’re not quite telling the truth, eh Love?” John scolds, his head tilting to the side as he observes your face. Lips twisting into a smirk as he continues,
“Is it a man? Is a man making you all flustered that you can’t think straight?” Your eyes widen in shock, tearing your gaze away from his, fearing that he’ll be able to see the truth in your eyes. He jerks your chin slightly.
“Tsk tsk, Y/N. Eyes on me.” He scolds. Your eyes immediately find his again, sparks shooting up your spine. Something flashes across his face, and he leans in closer, his lips inches away from yours.
“That’s a good girl, so obedient.” He muses, the smile on his face nothing short of predatory. A shaky breath escapes your lips, a flame igniting in your stomach. You can feel his breath fan across your face, his cologne completely invading your senses. When you say nothing he smirks and continues.
“So who is he? Hmm? Who is the man that’s occupying that pretty mind of yours?” He coos, leaning closer, his hand falling away from your chin. His lips so close to yours you could feel his beard tickling your skin. All you could think of was how good they would feel. You glance down at his lips before locking eyes with him once again. You’re frozen in place, brain short circuiting from the situation.
“Tell me, tell me who’s distracting you, Love.” John says softly, his nose bumping against yours slightly. His pupils dilated and chest rising and falling with his heavy breathing.
“You.” You whisper and the second the words leave your mouth, his lips are pressed against yours. They dance together slowly, John's hand cupping the base of your neck to pull you closer. You melt into the kiss, gasping when he gently bites your lip. He takes advantage of this and slides his tongue into your mouth, exploring and tasting you, as he deepens the kiss. You tangle your hands into his hair, softly moaning. Suddenly you’re off the chair as he picks you up, your legs wrapping around his waist and his hands grabbing your ass. He walks you to the desk, clearing a spot off with his arm, before setting you down on top of it. John pulls away slightly, leaving your mind reeling and your chest heaving.
“Such a pretty little thing.” He coos, before bringing his lips to yours once again. His right hand grips your waist tightly. The other trailing up your side before grasping a handful of your hair and pulling your head to the side, his lips kissing, and nipping at your neck. Heat pools in your abdomen. You’re becoming more and more aroused with every second that passes, hardly able to restrain yourself from ripping his clothes off.
“Captain…” You moan, tilting your neck even further to give him better access. His lips stop their motions on your neck, releasing his grip on your hair, he raises his head to look at you.
“I’m not your captain here Darling. I’m John. Not Bravo SIx, not Captain, just John. Alright?.” He says sternly, staring at you with an intensity you’ve never seen before.
“Okay Cap- John. Okay John.” You say, nodding your head. Desperate to feel his lips on you once again. You squirm on the desk, silently begging him to continue to touch you, your wetness seeping into your underwear.
“Fuck, my name sounds so good coming from that pretty mouth, Love.” John groans, stepping closer to you.
Dipping his head down he captures your lips with his, moving against yours languidly, pulling every coherent thought out of your head. Your hands trail to his waist and you tug at the hem. Taking the hint, he slides off his shirt and you unabashedly stare at his muscular torso. Your hand reaches up and touches his pec before tracing down across his abs, following that sinful trail of hair. Before you can continue with your exploratory touches, John grabs the bottom of your shirt and pulls it over your head. Reaching behind yourself, you unclasp your bra and let it fall to the floor, exposing your bare breasts to him. He lets out a low groan at the sight, his rough and calloused hands immediately cupping and kneading the soft flesh.
“Fuuck darling, such gorgeous tits.” John rasps, and dips his head down to start kissing your breasts before wrapping his lips around one of your nipples and his hand playing with the other. You throw your head back as you let out a soft moan and slightly arch your back. His cock stiffening and straining against his jeans at your sounds. He licks, and nips your breasts for a while before pulling back, his hand cupping your cheek as he looks into your eyes.
“I’ve wanted you for so long, Love. I want to take you to my bed and worship your body, but I can’t withhold myself from you any longer. I need to taste you, to feel your body against me, right fucking now.” John says, his voice heavy and laced with desire.
“Please, John, I want you too, so badly.” You plead. Reaching forward and hooking your fingers in his belt loops and tugging him closer to you. John's eyes glaze over as he feels your fingers tug at his belt. His hands find their way down your body, tracing your curves as a smile spreads across his face. Making quick work of your buttons he slides your pants down as you lift your hips to help him. Your skin burns with every graze of his fingers, his entire presence consuming your every thought. You feel yourself growing wet for him, your body craving every touch. John's hands trail up your thighs and caress your hips, taunting and teasing. You move your hips towards him, desperate to feel his hands on your dripping cunt. John lets out a dark chuckle at your movements, placing his fingers on your clothed core. Lightly pressing down and moving agonizingly slow.
“Ohh Darling, you’ve soaked through your underwear. Are you that desperate already?” John coos at you, putting more pressure onto your clit through the fabric. You let out a whine and shift your hips again, yearning for more friction.
“Please John… No teasing… I need more.” You breathe. Reaching forward, you palm the hard bulge in his pants eliciting a hiss from his lips. He swiftly slides your underwear off and immediately is on his knees looking up at you, his hands gripping your thighs tightly.
“Need to taste you Sweetheart, be a good girl and spread your legs. Let me taste your sweet pussy.” John demands in a low voice. Slowly you spread your legs further apart for him, his cock is hard and throbbing at the sight of your glistening pussy. He’s nearly drooling as he sees you all exposed and bare for him. Placing kisses along your thigh he works his way to your core, sticking his tongue out and licks a stripe up your wet pussy, pulling a sharp gasp from your chest. Groaning at the taste of you, he keeps his head buried in your thighs, licking and sucking at your clit. Soft moans are falling from your lips, his tongue making the flame in your stomach erupt into an inferno. John raises his head, his lips wet with you, you let out a whine from the lack of contact.
“I promise, next time, I'll make you come on my tongue until you beg me to stop. Ya taste so sweet, but I need to be buried deep inside you. Need to get you ready for my cock okay Darling? ” John says before slowly dragging two of his fingers through your folds, gathering your slick on them before gently pushing them into you. Your back arches and you gasp at the intrusion. Two of his fingers stretch you out as he pushes them in and out as he starts to kiss and suck on your neck. Soft moans erupt from your throat, completely focused on the feeling of pleasure he is giving you. Speeding up his fingers, he starts to curl them just right to hit that spongy spot inside you. A loud moan escapes you, you slap a hand over your mouth to try and keep quiet.
John can feel his cock, painfully hard, leaking against his pants. Your sweet moans mixed with the sounds of his fingers sliding in and out of your wet pussy is music to his ears. He is so desperate to feel you wrapped around him, it's almost unbearable. Moving his thumb in circles against your clit, you clench around his fingers, the knot in your stomach becoming tighter and tighter.
“Come on baby, cum for me. Be a good girl and cum all over my hand.” John murmurs against your neck, he curls his fingers once more and sends you barreling over the edge. Your body tenses up as a strangled cry rips through your throat. Waves of pleasure coursing through you. John continues to move his fingers, working you through your high before slowly removing them and bringing them to his lips, sucking them clean.
Reaching forward you undo his pants and push them and his boxers down, causing his cock to spring free. Eyes widening as you take him in, his cock is long and thick, his tip flushed and leaking pre-cum. You wrap your hand around him and slowly move up and down his hard shaft, causing a low moan to escape John. You try to move off the desk and onto your knees but he grabs your waist and places you back on the desk.
“That’s going to have to wait for another time, Love. I need to be inside of you.” John groans, stepping out of his pants and kicking them to the side. He drags the tip up and down your slit, coating it with your arousal, before slowly pushing in. You moan as you feel him fill you with his big cock. John covers your mouth with his, kissing you to try and muffle the moans that are coming from both of you. Your hands grabbing his biceps to try and ground yourself. As he fills you to the hilt, he stops, allowing you to become accustomed to the size of him.
“Fuck baby, your pussy feels so good. Squeezing me so tight.” He gasps, his hands on your hips, holding you flush against him. John was consumed by the feel of you around him, gripping his cock so tight.
“Please move John, fuck me.” You plead, moving your hips as much as you can, pulling a low groan from John.
“How could I refuse when you asked so nicely.” John coos at you. Slowly he pulls almost all the way out before sliding back in. Your eyes flutter closed as you feel every thick inch of him split you apart. Soon John picks up the pace thrusting into you faster, his grip on your hips tight and near bruising. You kiss him again fervently as his cock rails into you, brushing that sweet spot deep within. You claw at his shoulders and wrap your legs around his waist, to be as close to him as possible.
“Shit, John. That feels so fucking good, don’t stop!” You cry, completely lost in the pleasure already.
“That’s a good girl, taking my cock so fucking well Sweetheart.” John praises, his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet scent. He was absolutely obsessed with the feeling of his thick cock sliding into you, the feel of your fingernails scratching his back, and the sounds of pleasure coming from you. Abruptly he pulls out, pulls you off the desk, and turns you around. A gasp escapes you as he pushes down on your back so your hands are braced on the desk and your back is arched away from him, ass on display.
“Oh this ass, look at this fucking ass,” John says, giving it a smack, “You’re gonna be the death of me Love.” He smacks your ass once more before positioning himself at your entrance and pushing in again, causing you to moan and arch your back even more. John begins a brutal pace, thrusting into you fast and hard, with his hands gripping your hips again.. His tip kisses your cervix every time he bottoms out, making you moan louder and your eyes roll to the back of your head.
“That’s it baby, doing such a good job for me. Taking it so well, such a good little slut for me aren’t you?” John praises, leaning forward to grab a handful of your hair and pulling your head up. You’re completely cockdrunk, unable to form a coherent sentence, his praises making you clench around him. The knot in your stomach returns, tightening as your orgasm builds with every thrust.
“Oh you like that don’t you? Getting told you’re doing so well for me? You like hearing how you’re a good little whore?” John groans against your ear. You can only moan in response, which John doesn’t appreciate so he smacks your ass again.
“No no Darling, I want to hear how much you like it. Go on baby, use your words.” He coos against your ear.
“Yes!” You gasp out, “So good John, please don’t stop!”
“Oooh that’s my good girl.” He growls in your ear. He can feel his own orgasm growing, the feeling of your wet pussy clenched around him is driving him insane. John moves the hand on your hip down to your clit, rubbing small circles on it. You throw your head back as a choked moan escapes you, John’s name spilling from your lips like a prayer.
“I’m so close, John, please let me cum, please!” You cry out, the pleasure coursing through your veins becoming almost unbearable.
“Come on baby, let go, cum all over my cock.” John groans, his own orgasm nearing its peak as he continues to thrust into you at a fast pace. As soon as the words leave his lips your orgasm washes over you, your walls clamp down on his dick as he fucks you through your high. Your fluttering walls cause his orgasm to tear through him, a loud groan erupting from his throat as he finishes and stills inside you.
The only sound in the room is the labored breaths, as the both of you come back down to earth. Your knees threaten to buckle underneath you so John pulls out and cleans the two of you up before helping you slide your pants back on and setting you down on the small couch in his office. He brings you your shirt and gets dressed himself before sitting beside you.
“I gotta go back to work, Love, but I’ll come see you tonight, if that’s what you would like?” John says, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
“I would like that a lot.” You say softly, getting up on shaky knees and pulling him in for a kiss. You pull away and begin to walk out of his office when he grabs your waist, presses himself against your back and places his lips on the shell of your ear.
“I’ll see you tonight then, Darling, but don’t think I forgot about disciplining you for your distracted behavior.” John whispers in your ear before smacking your ass as you walk out the door. You hurry back to your room before anyone can see you leaving John’s office with swollen lips, messy hair and an excited smile across your face.
(There will be a part two)
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medicmuttt · 20 days
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Totality
hear me out. for all the self shippers. Sun and Moon asking you out during the eclipse.
You're all settled on the roof or somewhere outside, the three or at least you and Sun in control of the body, resting on a soft blanket borrowed from the daycare. It's cute, littered with clouds and moons, and so incredibly soft. You're tempted to take it for yourself. You won't, but the thought crosses your mind.. They're cuddling with you of course. You've gotten used to it at this point. Always so clingy to their favorite little human. Their blank optics somehow filled with wonder as they look on at the sky. You look on as well. Your eyes protected by cute space themed glasses. They don't need any of course but they got some fake ones just to match you. Maybe they stole Monty's for the day..
You can feel as their hands fidget. The Moon hasn't fully covered the Sun yet.. But he looks down at you, sun rays twitching, a cute quirk you've noticed. "S..Sunshine?" His voice is laced in a nervous static as he speaks up. You turn to him, giving them your full attention. That only seems to make it worse.. The gentle whirring of his fans laced with the soft creeks and squeaks of their internal mechanics. Your head tilts ever so slightly as the bot gets the courage to speak once more. "I.. I.. We've known each other for a while now a-and today is so so special.." He trails off. You can tell by the look in his eye his communicating with Moon. Likely yelling at him for tripping over his words so much. His wrings his big, intricate hands. Your brows furrow. "Moon and I have been wanting to ask you for a while." One hand suddenly goes behind his back, searching for something you can't quite see. "W-would you go out with us.. Be our little star? Our universe?" With that he pulls out a bouquet of paper flowers. All hand crafted with colorful construction paper. Blues, reds, oranges and purples.. even some made of star patterned paper.. You feel your chest leap at the sudden proposal but before you can speak he pipes up again. "Y-You mean everything to us Sunshine. I.. We know it isn't really.. Professional or conventional. But we promise to take care of you, to make everyday you're with us the best day possible."
Your heart is racing in your chest. Pounding against your rib cage like a drum. Face hot and flushed with blush. You smile at them, the cute shy one they love so much. Their fans seem to grow louder. They'd fallen for you.. hard. But the two couldn't help the anxiety that bubbled within their chest as they waited for you to respond. Moon was eerily quiet while Sun nearly panicked. "Oh Sun.. Moon.. I don't know what to say" They hadn't said something wrong had they? They weren't reading your signals wrong? "Of course I will. Oh I'd love nothing more then to be yours" Your voice had picked up a cheerful tone. It felt like a weight had been lifted from their shoulders. Sun found himself releasing a breath his didn't even need. Dropping the flowers he near tackled you. Pulling you flush into his lap with a squeal. "Oh sunshine! You have no idea how much this means to us!" He squeezed you. Burring his big face into your neck Unable to do much else you simply smiled. Chuckling to yourself and wrapping your arms around their surprisingly warm and soft body. His eyes flicked back up to the sky. The totality was almost here. The tight grip grew slack as he turned you around. You could feel as his hand made its way into yours giving it a excited squeeze. the three of you watching in silence as the moon slowly encompassed the sun. "We love you andromeda.." You leaned up to kiss their cheek. The plastic growing hot under you. A smile tugging at your lips. "I love you too."
I fixated idk if this is good okay bye.
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babystrcandy · 6 months
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the lucky one (pt. 5) | jjk
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summary: Growing up you only had one goal: beat Jeon Jungkook. Sometimes you'd win, other times you'd lose. Sometimes he'd lose, other times he'd win. But you'd both walk away from the match thinking the other was the lucky one.
pairing: jungkook x fem!reader rating/genre: 18+ Minors DNI | sports au, e2l/r2l, angst, fluff, smut word count: 27.7K chapter summary: You and Jungkook had always endured your lives, watching everyone else live theirs. It was time you helped each other learn how to finally breathe like real people. warnings/notes: typos probably, explicit language, jk and oc are the sun and moon 100%, hoseok i’m going to kiss you, karaoke..., yoonmin (i don’t ship them irl, don’t worry; all fictional and for plot purposes), panic attacks, poem referenced: mock orange by louise gluck a barbie dream house but all the dolls are kitchen knives by cassandra de alba, oc and jk are like so in love it’s not even funny anymore, oc in her mid-2521 na heedo era, she’s not doing too good, reporters are vultures, mention of king lear, i’m telling you they’re embarrassingly in love, unprotected soft sex like...soft-soft extra soft, mention of icarus/the fall of icarus, i think that’s it but if i missed anything please let me know, i hope you enjoy, my loves <3
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chapter five: violet, roses are red, not blue ( ← previous | next → )  
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FIVE WAYS YOU CAN Help Someone With an Anxiety Disorder:
Validate Their Feelings by Letting Them Know It’s Okay Not to Be Okay
Don’t Tell Them to Calm Down
Encourage Them to Focus on Things They Can Change
Help Them to Help Themselves
Discourage the Use of Alcohol or Drugs to Cope With Anxiety
OK . . .
You blinked once. Twice. Then once more, trying to make sense of the words before your eyes.
The thing was: you’d dealt with anxiety before. Hell, you’d been taking to biting your nails until they bled for a while now. You knew how it felt to peel over the edge of a toilet and empty your stomach’s contents just before a game. But . . . you never knew how to handle it or how to deal with it in such abundant measures.
Why were you looking into it now one may ask? Easy. You didn’t care much about how much you could endure, because truth be told: you knew you could handle it. You knew it would pass and while it sucked, you knew it was something you could deal with. And besides, you could deal with a lot, so . . . 
But . . . 
There were certain things that made sense to you. While you knew you could deal with everything on your plate . . . and while . . . while you knew Jungkook could handle himself . . . for some reason, you just didn’t want him to have to. 
It was an odd thing: realizing you’d rather deal with both your problems and his than let him suffer. You supposed that was what it meant to be friends, though . . . and well . . . you’d never really had any, so this was all new territory for you.
So ever since a few months ago when Jungkook told you about what happened to him just last year, you’d taken to the internet. You spent countless hours researching anxiety disorders, how to help, what to say, what to do, and on the off chance he had a panic attack near you, you’d taken to researching what to do then, too.
It made you feel a little stupid, yes, but you didn’t know how else to help. You didn’t want to make him feel . . . different for telling you, but you also . . . you didn’t want him to feel so alone anymore. (You’d even bought a book on it all (it only made you feel more clueless). 
Now . . . you didn’t know much, but you hoped the research would do something. And perhaps it wasn’t too far off either. After all, you’d been helping Jungkook stay away from booze as much as possible, even deciding to stay sober with him and you thought it was helping some. But you knew the late night talks were what helped more. You didn’t know how to say this without sounding full of yourself, but you liked to think you were helping him. 
That was what you truly wanted. To help him in ways you couldn’t help yourself. You could handle everything as long as he didn’t have to. That . . . that was what felt right to you.
So . . . five ways you can help someone with an anxiety disorder, you read again. You felt a little more than clueless. Still.
“Hey, Sunshine—“ Jungkook called for you, snapping you out of your own mind— “come look. It’s done.”
Blinking quickly, you clicked off your phone out of habit, realizing where you were. A tattoo parlor.
Yeah . . . 
It was the weekend of the final tournaments. The win or lose all, and Yunis was up there right next to the big leagues. How? All because of Jungkook. These past few months you and him had been unbeatable. Sure, you’d lost a few, but . . . more often than not, the two of you would end a match with grins on your faces moments before you jumped into his arms and just let yourself . . . celebrate with him.
That was how it had been. You and Jungkook against the world. And to be honest, you quite liked it that way. (Granted, after your little outburst, your teammates had stopped talking about Jungkook altogether and started to . . . almost but not really but also kind of . . . respect him more (except Wooshik, but whatever). That made things a whole lot better, but it was still just you and him and you were sure it would be for the rest of the season.)
Anyway . . . you were getting off-topic. 
The point was: it was almost the weekend of the final tournaments and Yunis was staying at some hotel somewhere in Ulsan. And well, while you and Jungkook were watching some movie in his hotel room, he got an idea. He wanted a new tattoo. For good luck, he’d claimed, and you . . . you hadn’t gotten a tattoo since that one mistake of one. But somehow, someway, Jungkook had managed to drag you out of the hotel and into the nearest tattoo shop he could find on the GPS. 
Which landed you there: sitting in the waiting area while Jungkook went first. (He wanted it to be a surprise. That was what he told you, which you thought was a little silly, but whatever.)
And then it would be your turn. 
Actually . . . 
You turned to face Jungkook, taking in the dopey grin he had spread across his face while he peeked at you through the door leading to the tattooing room. It was your turn.
“Hmm?” you hummed in questioning.
Jungkook shook his head. “Come look,” he repeated as he gestured for you to follow him. “And then I’ve got a couple ideas for yours. Don’t let me forget. And don’t pretend to forget. Got it?”
You rolled your eyes with a huff, but nevertheless, followed after him, shutting the door behind you. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of the artist, but, well, you had never been good at greeting people, so what should’ve been a small greeting wave, turned into you just staring at him with some kind of . . . smile on your face. And when you realized that was so not the way to go, you turned your attention back to Jungkook, grabbing onto the loop of his jeans as he led you to the mirror on the other side of the room.
Jungkook glanced to where you clung onto him, raising his brows as he looked between your face and your hand. “Good?”
You blinked. Then realized what you were doing. Then well . . . you cleared your throat and attempted to tear your hand from his body, but before you could, his fingers curled around your wrist. And without a second glance, Jungkook guided your hand back to him, allowing it to slip into his back pocket. 
All you could do was stare at the back of his head in shock. His dark hair was long now. Longer than it had ever been, to the point it could only be tied back with a hair tie or it’d be in his face all day, which was his go-to most days considering the days were long and hot. And somehow, he looked more like himself like that. He seemed to smile more, too, and you always managed to smile back even when you least expected it.
But you couldn’t help it. He was just . . . well . . .
(Sometimes he made you wonder if you should really find your friend this attractive but you ignored that most days.)
Whatever . . . the point was: you had trouble wrapping your head around his touch; around the fact that while he wasn’t exactly yours, he didn’t mind your hands on him at any time. No one had ever liked your touch this much. You had always been too cold; too harsh; too rough, but around him, you felt like your touch was almost . . . soft.
And that was what always shocked you.
“Are you drooling?” Jungkook asked, snapping you out of your own head.
Only then did you realize you had been staring at him for quite a while now, and well, he would always tease you about that. Because he was . . . Jungkook.
Your brows scrunched together. “What?”
But he didn’t bother to repeat his question. No, instead, he took his thumb and swiped at your bottom lip, inspecting it in thought. “Yep, just as I thought—“ he jutted his thumb toward you— “drool.”
Glaring, you stepped closer. “I don’t drool,” you nearly huffed.
“Mmm, that’s not what the evidence says.”
“It’s chapstick.”
“Really?”
“Really.” You glared a little harder. “Will you just show the tattoo?”
Jungkook only grinned.
And then, he turned his attention to his tattooed arm, slowly pulling up the sleeve of his shirt. Your eyes stayed trained on his arm the entire time, expecting some sort of skull or something stupid, but instead . . . no . . . as he pulled up his sleeve, he revealed a vine of some sort of blue flowers traveling from the empty space left on his lower forearm to his hand, covered by a saniderm wrap.
“What flower’s that?” you questioned, eyes still trained on the fresh tattoo as you carefully brought your hand to his arm. 
“Morning glories,” he hummed while he watched you slowly turn his arm to get the full view. “My mom says they’re a pain. They grow everywhere like weeds. Once you plant one, that’s it, she says. They grow like wildfire. A nuisance.” He laughed softly. “Figured it fit.”
“It’s pretty,” you murmured with a small smile. “Fits the rest.” You tilted your head to the side a little. “Kinda looks like the snake is wrapping around it.”
Jungkook nodded. “Cool, right?”
It was. It actually really was. 
“It’s nice,” you settled with instead, feigning disinterest. 
But Jungkook knew you well. “Admit it,” he pushed on, leaning toward you. “Admit you’re impressed.”
Nearly rolling your eyes, you finally huffed, “Yes, fine, it’s actually cool, Kook.”
“So I’ve impressed you?”
“Well, considering I thought you were going to get a dick, yes, I suppose I’m impressed,” you muttered with a small shrug. 
Jungkook snorted. “Well.”
Oh god. No, he didn’t.
Furrowing your brows, you pegged the question, “Please tell me you did not get a dick and balls tattooed on you.”
His face screwed up as he tilted his head to the side in thought.  “Well . . . “
“Kook.”
Pursing his lips into a cute pout, he offered you his other hand, showing off his fingers. And there on his ring finger was the number three, and on his middle was a sideways U. Meaning, yes, Jeon Jungkook did, in fact, get a small yet visible yet inconspicuous yet not that inconspicuous at all, penis tattooed on his fingers. And no, no, you were not surprised.
“Really?” you deadpanned.
Jungkook shrugged. “Whoops.”
“As long as you don’t think this is a matching tattoo kind of thing,” you started off with your finger pointing directly into his chest. “Because, I’m telling you right now, Jungkook, I am not getting a dick tattooed on my body.”
And Jungkook only snorted, shaking his head. “No, god, I’m stupid, not an idiot. I have my designs in my bag.”
Designs? Your brows twitched. He spent that much time on this? But—
But Jungkook was already one step ahead of you, walking from you toward where his bag lay on the ground beside the tattoo chair. He rummaged through its contents until he clasped his hand around a small sketchbook before he took it out and reapproached you, already flipping through it.
Flip, flip, flip . . . and flip, until . . . he paused on a page and slowly offered it toward you with an almost shy (?) look on his face. Jungkook, shy? You almost didn’t believe it, but still, you took the sketchbook from him without another word, letting your eyes take in the sketch before your eyes.
It was another flower. Well, a stem with a few flowers. Yellow this time. And a little different from Jungkook’s. Perhaps it was a little more peculiar. 
“It’s an evening primrose,” Jungkook began while your eyes stayed trained on the sketch, still analyzing it. “My mom used to have them in our garden back home. They, uh, only bloom at night. I remember every night we’d watch them. They’d do this little shake and—“ he laughed, softly at first, then a little louder— “my mom would say it was like they were yawning.”
You traced your fingertips over the sketch, remembering your own little memories of the silly flowers. That was why you remembered them. They were your mom’s favorite. She used to plant like five batches each spring and force you to come outside and watch them with her, and yes, you said force because you had always been a disagreeable child. But still, every night, you watched them.
“They’re my mom’s favorite,” you voiced aloud with a small smile playing on your lips.
“Yeah,” he hummed under his breath. “My mom said she gives her a bundle every year for her birthday.”
Glancing up, you nearly beamed. “Really?”
He nodded. “Really.”
“I guess they’d be proud of us, hmm?” you murmured, searching his face. When you realized what you’d said, you quickly cleared your throat. “For becoming chummy, you know?”
His brows twitched. “Yeah . . . I guess they would.”
A beat of silence.
Then . . . Jungkook cleared his throat, shaking his head of his thoughts as his eyes turned back to the sketch. “Anyway, uh, they remind me of home, so I thought maybe they’d do the same for you,” he allowed himself to say in a hushed tone. “But, I mean, there’s others. The drawing’s kinda shit, so—“
“I like it,” you cut him off as you held the sketchbook closer to you. “I’ll—“ you shrugged— “I’ll get it.”
Jungkook’s brows nearly shot up to his hairline. “Really?”
You only nodded. “Why not? It’s cool. It means something I think, so yeah, fuck it, I’ll get it. Besides—“ you flicked his nose— “the sketch is not half bad. You didn’t tell me you could draw.”
“That’s because I can’t.”
“Bullshit.”
“OK—“ he agreed with a shrug— “hand me the tattoo gun. I can give you a Jungkook original.”
Narrowing your eyes, you couldn’t help but purse your lips into an unamused grimace. “No, thanks, I’ll end up walking out with testicles drawn on my forehead,” you muttered with just a little bite in your words.
And that got him. Jungkook laughed, his eyes crinkling first before a grin broke out onto his face. All the while, he playfully ruffled your hair, gesturing for you to sit down in the chair a second later. And you let it happen, a small dopey smile on your face.
(And you almost realized that while Jungkook had been smiling more lately, you, too, had never smiled so much in your life. You supposed you had him to thank for that . . . 
Supposedly.)
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It wasn’t your reflection which caught your attention in the mirror. No, rather, what your eyes had landed on was the fresh tattoo of an evening primrose placed in the center of your sternum. It was almost similar to Jungkook’s, yet different just like the two of you, and the funny thing about it was . . . it kept managing to bring a small, almost unnoticeable smile to your face. 
“What’s got you smiling?” you heard from behind you as Jungkook appeared in the doorway of the hotel room’s bathroom (completely shirtless, might you add).
“Oh, nothing—“ you shrugged as you reached for a comb (totally not just pretending to untangle the ends of your hair), while maintaining eye contact with him in the mirror— “just the fact you whined and whined about how much pain your arm was in for like, what? An hour after?” Turning slowly to face him, you puffed out your bottom lip into a pout. “Such a pussy.”
His brows raised—a look of challenge. “Yeah?”
A beat of silence.
Another shrug was your only response.
Jungkook fought off a grin, crossing his arms. “I’m a . . . pussy?” Pushing off the doorway, he took a step toward you, head cocked to the side slightly. “Hmm?”
Mirroring him, you crossed your arms over your chest. “That’s what I said.”
“Oh, is that what you said?” he mused, mocking your voice. 
And before you could even protest or drop your jaw in shock, he was in front of you. He caged you in, leaning his hands on the counter behind you. One more inch and his nose would be touching yours, but you didn’t dare close that gap.
“You’re such a child,” you hissed in a hushed tone as if his proximity had made the room that much smaller and you that much more exposed.
“Mmm, am I?” he mused, his eyes trailing over your features with such languid strokes, you wondered how you ever handled his gaze before.
You raised your head ever so slightly.
To which, obviously, Jungkook found amusing. With that small, toothy, almost endearing smile on his face, he closed the gap, his nose brushing yours. “Kiss me then,” he murmured, pressing closer, just enough to brush his lips against yours in a feathering touch.
And you began to wonder how on earth you ended up becoming putty in his hands. “What if I bite you instead?” you murmured, but despite your words, you leaned into his touch.
Resting his forehead against yours, he hummed, “Well, I wouldn’t be opposed to that either.”
You felt yourself grin. “Good.”
The only response you received was his lips pressing against yours. You leaned closer, pleasantly sighing into the kiss as a grin tipped onto his face. His hands tickled your sides, lightly dancing across your skin before settling on your rib cage just below the crescents of your breasts. 
(Perhaps you forgot to mention that you were entirely topless . . . 
What? It was uncomfortable with the fresh tattoo.
Whatever.)
And well honestly, you couldn’t resist not having him close. So what if it bothered your tattoo? He felt better than any pain relief. 
Quickly, you found yourself tangling your hands in his dark, grown-out hair as you pulled him close enough to have your bare chest pressed against his. It made you feel close . . . closer than you had ever felt with anyone . . . closer than you had ever let yourself. His grip tightened on you instantly, his hands squeezing your sides once more before he gently sucked your bottom lip under the grasp of his teeth.
It only deepened from there. You melted into him, allowing him to meld his tongue against yours. The act squeezed a soft sigh out of you, to which Jungkook couldn’t contain himself. He smiled widely against your lips, and then his arms were around your thighs, lifting you up onto the sink counter. And once you were supported by the countertop, he stepped in between your parted legs as his hands found your face, gently caressing your jaw while he all but sucked on your tongue like he had done so many times before.
“Stop trying to eat my face,” you chuckled against his lips, still kissing him back while your arms wrapped around his neck.
He shook his head, but the small grin you felt against your lips gave him away. “Stop turning me on then,” he murmured back. “It’s just not fair, Daisy baby.”
Daisy baby. That was a new one.
Your brows twitched without your permission as your eyes traced his features. More specifically, your gaze fixed on his lips, watching as he tongued his lip ring—a habit he had accumulated over the years you supposed. 
It made it harder to focus on anything except him. And for the second time that night, you wondered how on earth you ended up being at his mercy time and time again. 
It just felt so unlike you. So different. So new. So . . . unfamiliar. 
Did you like it? 
You questioned yourself over and over again these past months. It felt like something you shouldn’t be able to feel. Really . . . it just made you wonder and wonder and wonder.
Until . . . Yes, you decided. Oddly enough, yes, you did like it. You quite liked feeling like this.
But what exactly was this?
. . . Your eyes met his, and your gaze softened instantly. You had no idea what this was. No idea . . .
Jungkook caught onto the look which crossed your face and leaned forward, burying his face into the crook of your neck. “What’s got you lookin’ like that?” he sighed against your skin, pressing open-mouthed kisses anywhere he could.
And your eyes fluttered shut as you melted into his touch. “Nothing,” you hummed, angling your neck to give him more access to your body. “I just—“ 
But a knock at the door halted the words from leaving your tongue.
The two of you paused.
A beat of silence.
Another knock came.
Jungkook pulled back and your eyes met, confusion passing between the two of you. 
Who could be knocking at the door at this hour? Especially Jungkook’s? (Because, really, after the whole meltdown you had at dinner after the first tournament . . . everyone had steered clear of the two of you. So you wondered once more . . . who could be at the door?)
No words were exchanged between the two of you, Jungkook only took the step into the hall, and peered through the peephole on the door. You watched in silence as he stared a second too long, his posture stiff before he sighed and disappeared back into the room. And well, in utter confusion, you hopped down from the counter, following after him only to find he had put on a tee and grabbed another, moments before he handed that very shirt to you with a tight-lipped smile.
“Who is it?” you whispered, your voice hushed as you put on the shirt he’d handed you, covering your bare chest.
Jungkook tongued his inner cheek, but before you could even press the question, his face softened. A small, stiff smile met his lips as he reached out and caressed your chin with his pointer, while his thumb brushed your bottom lip. “Keep your claws in,” he murmured, that small smile still on his face as if he thought that alone would be enough to ease your wandering mind.
“What—“ 
But he was already gone. 
His touch left you and you watched as he approached the door, while you followed slowly behind. The door was swinging open the next second, revealing—
Oh. You blinked in shock.
In the doorway stood Hoseok, whose back was facing you at that very moment while he talked to . . . Seulki?
Huh?
Tilting your head in confusion, you caught Seulki’s wide dark eyes. Her eyes widened further at the sight of you two as she quickly smacked Hoseok’s shoulder and pointed behind him. The action caused Hoseok to immediately shut his mouth as he slowly turned around, his lips down-turned into an awkward expression as his gaze darted between you and Jungkook.
Furrowing your brows, you sent him a look. 
Hoseok blinked back in response. Seulki nervously waved before trying to pass it off as her attempting to scratch the back of her head. And Jungkook . . . well . . . he was the one to clear his throat, putting an end to the silence. (You, however, caught onto the fact that his eyes remained glued to his feet the entire time.)
That . . . that made you step forward, until you stood beside Jungkook, crossing your arms over your chest as you leaned against the door frame. “Something wrong?” you questioned the two of them, keeping a close eye.
Hoseok opened his mouth, hesitating slightly. “Uh—“
“We were looking for you guys,” Seulki cut in with a wide smile on her face. “So it’s good that you’re both—“ she glanced at Hoseok, starting to fidget with her hands as she cleared her throat— “here. Hoseok?”
Hoseok eyed her, a tad startled before he nodded in agreement. “Right, yeah,” he hummed with a clap of his hands. “We were gonna meet up with some friends from college in Busan for karaoke. They’re just . . . they’re coming to the final tournaments and we thought ‘why not, let’s go out’.” He laughed . . . awkwardly if you might add. “Anyway . . . We’ve got two extra train tickets. Could be yours . . . ?”
Quirking a brow, you glanced between them. “How much?”
A perplexed look crossed both their faces. But it was Seulki who spoke up first. “What?” she mumbled, slightly puffing out her bottom lip into a small pout—something she happened to do a lot that you’d caught onto. “Nothing. We just . . . “
As her words trailed off, Hoseok picked up where she left off. In fact, he took it a step further. “We . . . “ He quickly shut his mouth, shaking his head at his thoughts before he raised his head once more, eyes now locked on Jungkook rather than hiding from him. It didn’t matter if Jungkook didn’t look him in the eye, it seemed Hoseok had something to get off his chest as he took a literal instead of metaphorical step toward him. “I . . . I feel bad . . . for how we treated you. I assumed things. I never asked you. I never thought to. I should’ve gotten to know you before listening to anything Wooshik had to say. I misjudged you. For that, and everything else . . . I’m—“ he touched a hand to his chest before he gestured toward Seulki— “we are sorry.”
And while his words lingered in the air, you hadn’t realized that the stiffness in your muscles had slowly loosened and your gaze was now set solely on Jungkook. How could it not be? 
With a careful glance, you took in Jungkook’s demeanor. It was clear he, too, was taking in Hoseok’s words. His head was still lowered, his eyes trained on his feet, but they kept moving in rapid motions as if he were fighting with himself to not look up. And all you could think was: look up . . . please, please look up.
You hadn’t expected it when you first saw them in the doorway, but you weren’t an idiot. Hoseok and Seulki had come here to make amends. They had come here to admit their wrongs. You couldn’t be angry with that . . . not when you had seen just how happy Jungkook had been the first time he’d been able to . . . see someone.
If he looked up . . . then that would mean he would be OK. If he looked up . . . then maybe he could breathe a little easier. And truly . . . as odd as it sounded . . . all you wanted was for him to be . . . happy.
If Jungkook looked up . . . all of that could be possible.
“Look—“ Hoseok began again, nearly reaching out to pat Jungkook on the shoulder, but he stopped himself before he made contact— “Uh . . . you don’t seem like a bad guy . . . so I was wondering if we could all hang out like teams are supposed to, you know? Not just to apologize . . . but to . . . be friends, I suppose, is what I mean . . . “
You swallowed hard, fighting with yourself not to speak for him. Look up, Jungkook, you repeated over and over again in your head, watching him with careful eyes. Look up. Please . . . please . . .
Another beat of silence, more painful than the last.
Then . . . 
. . . Jungkook raised his head, and his eyes met Hoseok’s, and you knew what his answer would be.
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In no way, shape, or form could you comprehend how you managed to make it to some random karaoke bar in the middle of Busan around, like, two in the morning. Hell, you didn’t even remember hopping onto the midnight train to get to the city in the first place, but there you were, dressed in whatever the fuck you could find in your suitcase that wasn’t a badminton uniform, and you were sitting next to one of Hoseok’s friends (Namjoon, you thought his name was.)
And while Namjoon managed to impress you with his choice in cologne, he had been talking your ear off for the past half hour and you couldn’t think straight for the entirety of the time he’d been telling you about well . . . you honestly had no idea what he was talking about. In truth, you couldn’t really hear much . . . because your mind was elsewhere. Because, because, because for the last half hour that Namjoon had been at your side, your eyes had been on Jungkook.
Now . . . you knew how that sounded, but you had a reason. You see, Jungkook wasn’t alone either. He had been sat next to another one of Hoseok’s friends (let’s call him Yoongi and hope you got that right) . . . and he was like . . . looking at him. No, no, like . . . he was looking him in the eyes . . . that is why you couldn’t stop staring, couldn’t stop trying to eavesdrop, couldn’t stop just . . . just . . . just whatever!
Was it embarrassing to say you were proud of him?
But . . . you were . . .
As much as you hadn’t wanted to admit it, he’d become the only person you’d ever been this close to in your life. He’d once told you you were the only one he could see . . . the only one he wasn’t afraid of to look in the eyes, and now . . . in just a few hours, he’d allowed himself to hear people, see them, interact with them beyond the restrictions he’d put on himself the entirety of his contract with Yunis.
And the little thing that made you feel all that more warm, was the attentive, genuine smile on his face as he nodded along to whatever Yoongi was saying. That . . . that made a smile of your own touch your lips as you took in the scene.
“You agree?” you heard from beside you, Namjoon’s voice startling only slightly enough to have you abruptly whipping your head in his direction with a confused expression on your face.
You blinked, furrowing your brows. “Hmm?” you hummed in a questioning tone as you snuck a glance back at Jungkook, only to find . . . oh . . . only to find him lazily shifting his gaze from Yoongi to you with an amused smirk on his face. (Great, so he had seen you looking at him. Great. That he’ll really get you later on with.) “Do I agree—what?”
Slowly, you forced yourself to tear your eyes from Jungkook and finally face Namjoon, who seemed to be oblivious to everything else. You weren’t even really sure if he had heard your question or if he were too busy inside his own head, questioning himself. But it didn’t matter either way, because . . . the music cut out, Hoseok and Seulki’s voices died down, followed by their out of breath laughter, and then:
“Alright, who’s next?” Hoseok called out, offering up the microphone.
Immediately, Yoongi shook his head, leaning back to indulge in his drink rather than the question at hand. And no one else could get another word in before, Seulki and Hoseok had caught onto this little act, only they didn’t exactly . . . go for him. No, rather, Seulki, specifically, all but jumped toward Jungkook. “I vote Jungkookie goes!” she declared as she leaned forward to dangle the microphone in front of his face.
“Agreed! Jungkook-ah, onstage now!” Hoseok exclaimed, closing the distance to Jungkook before he wrapped a hand around his arm, urging him to stand to his feet and take over the spotlight. 
(Clearly . . . something you hadn’t mentioned . . . everyone but you and Jungkook were . . . perhaps maybe a little bit or a lot or yeah, yeah, yeah . . . they were drunk. (So you could see how . . . this had happened.))
And Jungkook all but turned cherry-cheeked. “No, no, I can’t,” he laughed it off, trying to wave them away. “I’m a horrible singer, really.”
Lie.
He once sang for your elementary school’s talent show . . . you know . . .
But the others persisted, whining and whining and blah blah blah—
. . . Five minutes later, no doubt, Jungkook finally gave in with a playful groan. He took the microphone from Seulki, slowly making his way to the center of the room you guys had booked, and then you noticed something . . . his eyes had only been on you the entire time. And suddenly, you began to wonder what that meant, wrapping your arms around yourself as your brows raised in question.
Until:
“Listen,” Jungkook began, a half-grin sliding onto his face as he maintained eye-contact with you, “I’ll sing . . . but I need my sidekick.”
Raising your brows, you knew you’d kill him for that later. But still you didn’t move. All you could do was shake your head, because no, no, no you did not want to sing in front of anyone. 
“OK. OK,” Jungkook nodded slowly to himself, but you knew him better than that. He had something planned. And you could just tell by the way he began to walk toward the system in order to plug in the song that was somehow someway on his mind. Then, he turned back around, both microphones in his hands, his eyes solely on you with a mischievous glint in them as the first seconds of the song began to blast through the speakers.
Squinting your eyes in skepticism, you watched him. 
He only sent you a knowing grin.
And you suddenly had a feeling you knew exactly what he had put on.
“ . . . She ain’t got no money,” Jungkook began, trying his best to sing, but his grin kept growing and growing just as your face fell and fell and fell. “Her clothes are kind of funny. Her hair is kinda wild and free. Oh, but—”
You nearly smacked a hand to your face.
“—Love grows where my Rosemary goes,” he continued, beginning to bob his head now to the music. “And nobody knows but me.” Clearing his throat over the music, you knew you were in for it. “Come on, Rosemary, on your feet. Let’s go. Let’s go. Let’s go, because! Love grows where my Rosemary goes! And nobody knows like—Come on!—me!”
And finally . . . finally after being hounded and hounded, you unstuck yourself from your seat, your eyes solely on him as if it were just the two of you against everything, and then you took the microphone from his hand, and you knew you’d sealed your fate. Shaking your head at him, you playfully rolled your eyes moments before you glanced at the screen, checking where you were in the song.
Great, you thought. Fuck . . . OK. Clearing your throat again, this was your Hell. “I’m a lucky fella,” you began, your voice nearly tone-deaf, and certainly agony to the ears. “And I’ve just got to tell her that I love her endlessly.”
“Oh, because!” Jungkook jumped in, bumping you with his elbow. “Love grows where my Rosemary goes, and nobody knows like me!”
Snorting once, you continued for him, “There's something about her hand holding mine. It's a feeling that's fine,” you hummed along, realizing that perhaps . . . this . . . was . . . fun. And slowly, so slowly, you didn’t even realize you were doing it . . . you had begun to dance along, following Jungkook’s lead. “And I just gotta say—”
“Hey! She’s really got a magical spell and it's working so well that I can't get away,” he drawled out, perhaps carrying out his words a tad too much, but there was something about the smile on his face while he did it that you didn’t care. 
That was when you really lost it. Perhaps lost it was the wrong word, but that was when you really stopped caring if there were other people in the room, about keeping up your image or whatever. It just felt like it was you and Jungkook and the music.
And before you knew it, the song had ended, cheers came from Hoseok’s friends, but your eyes were solely on Jungkook. They had never really left him, because this was the song you’d sang at the talent show in elementary. It was also the song you had been too afraid to sing alone . . . because you were perhaps maybe not a shy child, but an antisocial one. And Jungkook . . . Jungkook had offered to sing with you. He’d never wanted to be in the talent show, but you . . . you always wanted the spotlight, and so, it was because of him that you were able to have it that day. Otherwise you probably would’ve spent the entire night crying in the school’s bathroom because you couldn’t force yourself on stage. And he . . . he had saved you back then. 
It seemed he always was . . . 
That made a smile slowly grow on your face, but before it could form into a toothy grin, cheers erupted throughout the room. Eyes widening, you glanced toward the noise, realizing it was not just the two of you but rather the two of you and . . . them.
But this them didn’t feel malicious as it had in the past. No, in fact, before you could even blink, Seulki was already jumping toward you, jumping up and down while she beamed about how that had to be one of her all time favorite songs. And Jungkook . . . well . . . Hoseok had reached him in seconds, clasping a hand on his shoulder as he went on and on about how he had no idea he had such a voice, asking if he’s taken lessons, and blah blah blah . . . all the while everyone else shouted requests at the two of you, hooting for an encore.
It . . . well . . . to say the least, it managed to bring that smile back onto your face, and finally you let yourself look away from Jungkook, knowing you could trust the others with him, and suddenly all you could see was Seulki. You’d never had many friends. Perhaps competition or surface people, but a little part of you saw Yurim, your college doubles partner and probably the closest you’d ever had to a friend, in Seulki. 
Except unlike all those years ago . . . this time you embraced Seulki with a hand on her shoulder and a warm smile touching your face as you finally let yourself tell her the little story of how the song came to be for you. Now, yes, she was drunk out of her mind and would probably forget about all of this tomorrow, but you didn’t care. 
It felt . . . nice . . . to talk to people like . . . this. And—And this feeling when you did . . . Oh what was that feeling called? Like, like warmth but better, perhaps innocent? 
Were you . . . happy?
And then . . . you began to wonder . . . was this what it felt like to have . . . friends? Were you allowed to feel like this? Like . . . like you were happy?
In that moment, you glanced back at Jungkook for a brief second just as he did the same. Your eyes met, and you knew he felt the same. And then: relief, relief, relief . . . 
A beat of silence. 
In it more relief. 
Beat.
Beat.
Beat . . .
But . . . like all things . . . balance. A knock on the door ripped that blissful beat of relief from your grasp. Brows furrowing, you slowly turned to see a blurry shadow just behind the door, indicating that someone was . . . asking for permission to come in? But . . . who? As far as you knew everyone who was there was supposed to be there.
You wondered and wondered, trying to tilt your head to see if you could make it out. And then you heard them call his name, but you didn’t believe it at first. You didn’t quite hear it. Seulki was jumping beside you, and you could have sworn you heard Yoongi announce that it was probably his partner at the door.
And then as Yoongi slowly walked toward the door, opening it to greet the man with this adoring look in his eyes, your heart plummeted to your stomach. Instantly, your eyes snapped to Jungkook, and you saw the entire world crumble before you. You tried to reach him but Seulki was still holding onto you, and you couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t speak, you couldn’t move, you couldn’t do anything but stare and watch as the world fell and fell and fell, leaving you with no way to put it back together.
Amongst the chaos, your eyes fluttered back toward the door and you heard his name once more. Jimin, you could have sworn Hoseok had called out, and you knew this was reality. 
Like an old ghost, Jimin had appeared at the door, almost unrecognizable from the boy you remembered in college. His hair now honey blonde, his cheeks full and almost rosy, with this way about him that just screamed he was different now. It made you wonder how different he was now than a year ago when Jungkook left his past behind him. 
Breathing carefully, everyone’s attention was on Jimin, but you caught sight of it first. Jimin’s eyes scanned the room and then . . . then they met yours. Your heart stopped again and you could have sworn his mirrored yours. His eyes widened only slightly, until they shifted just to the right of you, and you watched in silence as his lips parted, his brows twitching upward.
That was weird.
You would have expected him to meet the sight of Jungkook with anger . . . but the only expression on Jimin’s face was that of pain . . . perhaps . . . yearning . . . ? For something . . . ?
And finally, you allowed yourself to glance back at Jungkook, and you began to wonder if it truly were possible to die of a broken heart.
Jungkook stood stagnant, unmoving without even a single rise and fall of his chest. No, instead, his hand was clasped over his chest as if he were in physical pain, but he still didn’t move. Until he did.
Before you could reach him, Jungkook was off. He made a B-line for the door, pushing past everyone while they were distracted by Jimin’s appearance.
And you were a step behind him.
“Kook, where you going?” you briefly heard Hoseok call to Jungkook. “Jimin’s got to show you his vocals, man. He’ll give you a run for your money.”
But Jungkook wasn’t reachable. “I—um—restroom,” he barely strained out and then he was gone, slipping out the door and out of your sight.
You tried to keep up, desperately pushing past the others as you reached the door as well, but a hand on your upper arm stopped you in your tracks. Your eyes flicked from the hand on your arm to the face of the person it belonged to. 
Jimin . . . he was the one who had stopped you. Of course.
But you had never been easily swayed. You quickly ripped your arm out of his grasp, and left without a look back. But it was no use. The hallway was empty. Jungkook was gone.
So what? You’d find him. You had to.
Without another thought, you didn’t even wait to hear the door close behind you as you began to stalk down the hall, but a voice called out to you. 
“Hey, hey, wait,” the voice pleaded.
But you knew this voice well. You knew Jimin well, and you didn’t care what he had to say, not when Jungkook was missing.
Attempting to make another run for it, you put one foot in front of the other, only to be pulled back. Jimin wrapped a hand around your upper arm, pulling you into him and turning you to face him all at once. And you saw that hurt expression once again, but you didn’t care, you didn’t care, you didn’t care! Jungkook was out there and he was alone and you needed him to know you were never leaving his side again.
So fuck it, fuck it, fuck it. You didn’t care!
Desperately, you tried to peel his hand from your arm, but his words halted you in your tracks.
“Is he OK?” Jimin quietly asked, his voice barely above a whisper, almost as if he were ashamed of his own words. 
Taking a step back, you could only shake your head at him. “Are you fucking serious?” you all but hissed, the words burning on your tongue as you finally ripped your arm out of his grasp. “Now you care? Now you want to act like—“ Your words were ripped from your lips, unable to finish the sentence. Instead, another shake of your head came. “You’re fucking unbelievable . . . Of course he’s not OK. He hasn’t been for a while, and you would know that if you hadn’t—“ 
The words died on your tongue, and Jimin watched. While your eyes betrayed you, watering slightly, Jimin looked as if he couldn’t believe his own eyes. His gaze darted across your face, his brows raised in concern (?) while he watched as you fought against the floodgates, trying to bite back the tears in your eyes and the lump in your throat. 
And finally, you were able to force out the words: “He’s not OK. He’s really—“ you quickly exhaled— “really not.”
A beat of silence.
You swallowed that lump in your throat while a look of realization crossed Jimin’s face. It was funny . . . he looked completely different now than he did years ago . . . or maybe it was the look he wore. It was something you had never seen on him before. 
But you really didn’t care.
Sucking in a breath, you cleared your throat and began to back away. “And he needs me so I have to—“
But Jimin cut you off. “So he told you?” he asked almost a little too hesitantly as he took a step toward you.
Nodding, you swallowed hard. “Yes.”
His brows raised. “You guys are . . . good?”
“Yes,” you muttered, nodding again. “He’s—We’re friends.”
Jimin blinked. “Oh.”
“What?”
“I just . . . I didn’t see that coming . . . “
“Well—“ you bit your inner cheek— “it did.”
Another beat of silence.
Then: Jimin took a step back. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, almost too under his breath to even hear. “I didn’t expect that he’d be here. I haven’t seen him in . . .  in a year. I didn’t even think he was . . . I didn’t think he was like that.”
Oh . . .
Don’t say it.
Don’t say—
Don’t—
But you couldn’t help but bite out, “No thanks to you.”
Jimin pinched his brows together. “What? What do you mean?”
You just had to say it . . . 
“Nothing—“ clearing your throat, you realized just where your loud mouth had landed you— “just . . . I have to go, alright?”
With one final look at the man before you—a man you once knew that now barely resembled the one you’d known—you walked past him, eyes trained solely on what was before you. Jungkook was the only thing on your mind. Finding him was the only thing you cared about. Leaving the past behind was easy when you knew he was waiting for you somewhere up ahead.
But a hand wrapped around your forearm, halting you in your tracks. Your eyes widened as you heard Jimin speak, but you couldn’t quite make out what he was saying until you glanced over your shoulder, your eyes meeting his words head-on.
“Look . . . look, I know,” he had said, an almost desperate expression plaguing his face. He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly before he sucked in a sharp breath. “I know. Trust me. I do.” Exhale.
Slowly, your brows scrunched together as you pried his hand off your arm. “Know what?” you questioned, your voice a slightly accusatory tone while you cocked your head to the side, eyeing him with skepticism. 
A moment’s silence passed before he searched your eyes. What he was searching for, you couldn’t quite make out, but he kept searching and searching and searching until his brows twitched upward, an almost pained expression fueling his face. And then: “I know it wasn’t Kook’s fault,” he confessed, his voice soft and quiet as if he were ashamed of his own words. “What happened between him and Tae. I knew it wasn’t his fault.”
Instantly, your heart dropped. 
He knew. He knew and he still let this happen.
You wanted to scream. At him. At everything. At nothing. 
But you stayed frozen, your mind spiraling and spiraling.
“I tried to get them to see that, too, but . . . Kook had always been our glue, not me,” he nearly whispered, harshly pointing at his chest almost as if he were trying to punish or rather condemn himself. “Tae and I would get into arguments over stupid shit all the time, and Kook would always be there to get us to see eye-to-eye. I didn’t know how to help them. I’m not good at that; he was.”
And then you saw it: you saw the past in his eyes. Slowly, it unraveled, and you watched as the three of them practiced day in and day out while you glared at them across the field back in college. You remembered being angry, but you hadn’t known why, and now . . . now you realized you had been envious of the fact that they were . . . friends. While you had none, they had each other. 
To see the three of them in completely separate places now . . . made your head spin and spin and spin. Never once did you think they’d do anything without each other, and now . . . now you were watching the past crumble through Jimin’s sad eyes.
It was almost as if you could see the moment they went their separate ways. Kook alone. Jimin and Taehyung together . . . but . . . distant . . . 
The distance was clear on Jimin’s face, and when he spoke, he spoke with a certain type of nostalgia that you knew all too well. “I knew what I had to do,” he continued, those sad eyes of his not leaving yours. “I chose Tae. I would’ve chosen them both, but I couldn’t . . . so I stayed by Tae’s side. I knew how they both felt. I knew that I could play neutral all I wanted, but Kook was gonna leave and I had to either go with him or stay with Tae.” He shook his head as he chewed on his inner cheek. “And I couldn’t let Tae go through this alone . . . and—and there wasn’t enough time to fix what happened between them, but I thought Kook would be OK. I would’ve fought harder if I knew—”
His words cut off, getting tangled around his tongue as the lump in his throat rose higher and higher. There was no way to tell when it’d finally choke him. What would happen then?
“He was just always so . . . fine,” Jimin whispered more to himself than to you, shrugging his shoulders as if he couldn’t believe it. “I thought he’d be OK. I thought he’d ignore all of this and win that medal we all dreamed of . . . but then he left the team and Wooshik . . he told me where he ended up.” He shook his head once more, his eyes now trained on the wall behind you, tears still glossing over and threatening to spill. “I didn’t think he was . . . struggling. I just thought he was hiding. I didn’t realize he was . . . “
“Well . . . I guess we all have our own ways of dealing with . . . guilt,” you heard yourself spit out before you could stop the words from flowing. You didn’t know why, you just . . . you just . . . you were just so angry. But at him? That you weren’t sure or.
It seemed Jimin was as shocked by your words as you were. His eyes met yours once again, blinking quickly, causing a few tears to slip down his cheeks. He quickly wiped them away, shaking his head in the process. “Don’t do this,” he muttered under his breath.
But you almost couldn’t control it. You were more parts anger than anything else, and there he was, the perfect subject to take it out on. Putting up a fight was useless, your mind was on autopilot. “Tae’s at home bedridden I assume and you’re here? On a date?” you hissed out through gritted teeth. “Mmm, I don’t know . . . sounds—”
“Don’t,” Jimin quickly cut you off, mirroring your anger. “You of all people don’t get to judge me.”
You raised your brows. “Why not?”
“You—“ he shoved an accusatory finger your way— “left him too once.”
And just like that, his words pierced your chest, making the anger spread into your bloodstream. “That’s different,” you bit out, eyes now shamefully trained on the ground.
“Is it?”
Scoffing, you shook your head. “Don’t turn this around. You—”
But Jimin wasn’t having it. “He loved you, you know?” he spat like the words had burned his throat.
The world stopped.
A beat of silence. 
Two beats.
Another.
. . . You could have sworn your heart thud in your chest. But . . . but that could’ve been your breath catching in your throat. 
And then you heard it: your own shocked voice. “What?” you all but gasped out, taking a subconscious step back.
Jimin furrowed his brows as if . . . confused (?) by your reaction. “He loved you,” he went on, keeping a watchful eye on your face. “I don’t know why or how considering you were such a horrible person the entirety of college . . . but he stuck by you. I’ve never seen anyone love somebody that much. Hell, I didn’t think it was real, and I couldn’t understand why . . . but he loved you, and when you pulled that shit on him; when you left, me and Tae saw it. He didn’t talk to anyone for months.” 
He loved you? He . . .
“He slowly came back, and a year later I thought he was fine. I thought he was finally over you, but . . . “ Jimin wet his lips— “I guess some old habits never die.”
Jungkook loved . . . you? In college he—But, no! He thought you guys had been friends. You were the one who had hated him, and he had thought of you as a friend. There was no love there. No, no there couldn’t be. He did not love you. He couldn’t have. No. No . . . No!
“And now you’re here . . . defending him . . . and I just can’t wrap my head around it,” Jimin finished off, his words more stable now. Then, slowly but surely, he nodded as if he had made peace with his thoughts. “But I get it. We all make our own choices. You made yours, but you . . . you don’t get to stand here now after everything and judge me when you left him in the dark for years. I made my choices, and I regret them most days, but it is what it is. You of all people should know that.”
But if he had loved you, then . . . had you broken his heart? 
You knew you’d done quite a lot of damage on him, but you hadn’t considered that you’d broken . . . the very thing you’d come to grow so fond of. Because truly, over the past months, you’d come to know him more than you knew yourself, and you realized he’d always had this softness about him. He’d always had a good heart. That was what you had come to admire most about him. And if Jimin was right, that meant you had hurt that very part of him.
If he was telling the truth, you had done so much more damage to Jungkook than you had thought. Perhaps it had been you who had ruined him.
That . . . that made your rage boil. “I do,” you ended up biting out, your voice harsher than it had ever been as your rage boiled and boiled, nearly bubbling and spilling everywhere. “I regret every mistake I’ve ever made and I know hurting him is at the top of the list, but you knew that, too, and you still repeated what I did wrong. Why didn’t you go back for him? Why didn’t you, I don’t fucking know, try?! Why didn’t you fucking try?! Huh?!”
Those words left your lips and before you knew it, you were face to face with Jimin, not even two inches apart. Your breathing was ragged and you could feel your rage burning through your bloodstream, turning it to rot, surely burning through your skin. 
Had it reached your heart?
“Why didn’t you try?” Jimin mumbled, the anger gone from his eyes as he took in your expression. And his words . . . this wasn’t a question. He wasn’t asking why you hadn’t tried to help Jungkook back then, no . . . he was reminding you that you hadn’t tried for a reason. 
Admit it or not, you hadn’t let him in because you hated yourself. And making yourself hate him, blame him, was easier than admitting you didn’t want to live with the person you had become. 
That was why you hadn’t tried—you were exhausted with yourself, with everything. 
And only then did it hit you. As those final words left your lips, you realized why you were so fueled with anger. You realized why you had chosen Jimin as your punching bag, and you realized what you had done. 
Because, really, you weren’t angry with him. No, you were angry with yourself. It was like he had said . . . you had left Jungkook once, too. 
Looking at Jimin was like looking in the mirror. What he had done to Jungkook was nothing close to what you had done to him. So being angry at him . . . hurting him was an excuse to ignore who you were really angry with: . . . yourself.
And finally, Jimin spoke for the both of you. “Because . . . I was exhausted,” he mumbled through a heavy exhale. “You don’t get it . . . I’ve stayed by Tae’s side for a year, and I’d do it again and again, but that doesn’t mean that there isn’t a part of me that doesn’t blame him, too.”
Wetting your lips, you took a step back, your anger slowly turning to guilt. This wasn’t his fault. Why did you blow up on him like that? Fuck.
Hating him wouldn’t make you hate yourself less . . .
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“After the incident, it was like he just disappeared,” Jimin went on, his voice equal parts solemn and guilty. “Badminton was his dream. I think Tae loved it the most out of all of us, and just like that, it was gone. And without it, he just faded away. I don’t even think he blames Kook. He’s just . . . gone. It’s like he’s been on autopilot for the better half of a year.”
Fuck. Jimin wasn’t to blame. Just like Jungkook, this entire situation was just one big mess. No one was to blame. Fuck, no one was to blame, and yet . . . you were sure they all blamed themselves. 
How could you have been so blinded by rage you hadn’t noticed this before?
“And I . . . I have had to live for the both of us,” he confessed, finally raising his head to meet your watchful gaze. “I knew what I was getting into, and I did it because I care for him, but I didn’t realize . . . I didn’t realize that . . . you can be there for someone as much as you want but there comes a time when caring for someone makes you stop caring about yourself.” His brows twitched only once, but the action carried a world of pain. “Tae is my best friend. They both were, and I . . . I didn’t just lose Jungkook that day. I had to live for Tae, and in doing so, I stopped living for myself.”
I stopped living for myself. Closing your eyes, you were only reminded how wrong you had been. The three of them were all in pain, refusing to admit it. They all blamed themselves, you were sure of it. 
But no one was to blame.
No one.
Still, you stayed silent, keeping these thoughts to yourself. Your eyes fluttered back open, and it was as if you were staring the past in the face once again. And god, did it have such a guilty conscience.
“I know it’s wrong, but there will always be a part of me that resents him for it,” Jimin went on, sighing as his words left his lips. “And he—” he gestured back to the karaoke room; back to where Yoongi still resided— “is the only reason I didn’t lose myself. He is the only reason I can fucking breathe just for a second . . . so that is why I’m here. I don’t care if it’s selfish. He’s my sliver of happiness, which is why . . . “ he wet his lips, staring at you as if you were a reflection of his own past “ . . . which is why I don’t blame Jungkook for the things he did for you back then. So . . . I don’t blame you either but . . . but I guess what I’m trying to say is . . . I know what I did. I will always regret it and I will always wish I could turn back time and make it all go away, but I can’t.”
Which is why I don’t blame Jungkook for the things he did for you back then, you repeated in your head once more. Was Jimin right? Had Jungkook truly loved you? 
And then, one more final question popped into your head: Did he still?
“Min?” 
The singular name brought you and Jimin out of your little bubble. The two of you turned your heads in the direction of the sound, finding Yoongi had peeked his head out of the karaoke room. His dark eyes shifted between you and his boyfriend, a skeptical look plastered across his face. 
“Everything’s fine,” Jimin replied with a tight smile.
That was when you saw it—the way Yoongi’s face softened instantly with just a couple of words from Jimin. You recognized that look. You’d seen that very expression reach Jungkook’s face time after time again in the past months you’d spent getting to know each other more and more and . . . 
Wait . . . 
Wait, wait . . . you recognized that look, but in a deeper way, in a visceral way. Yes, you’d seen Jungkook wear it many times, but . . . you could have sworn you’d seen it somewhere else, too. You could have sworn you’d catch glimpses of it on your own face when you’d walk past a mirror or catch your reflection in a puddle. And you’d always catch sight of it when . . . Jungkook was up ahead or behind or near. 
Yes, that was it. You’d seen that expression on your own face when Jungkook was involved. But . . . did that mean? 
No, no . . . no. Stop it. You couldn’t think about what this meant or that meant or this or that and those and them or whatever! No. 
Right now . . . right now you had to focus. Jungkook had run off and you . . . you needed to find him, but—
Your gaze fixated on Jimin once again. What happened back then . . . He wasn’t to blame. No one was. They, all three of them, were in pain, blaming themselves and yet too scared to face it. None of them would dare to either. But it was so clear that Jungkook missed Taehyung and Jimin as well. And now . . . now it was clear just how much Jimin missed the both of them . . . 
And well, you could do something about that. Perhaps then this guilt would leave you alone. Perhaps then things could be set right. Maybe then things could be the way they were supposed to be before life got in the way.
The answer was clear, and you couldn’t stop yourself. “Jimin,” you began, clearing your throat and interrupting the conversation between him and his boyfriend. Once his eyes were on you, with a clearing of your throat, you continued. “I’m sorry . . . for blowing up on you. I didn’t realize that—nevermind—just . . . Jungkook . . . he misses you . . . and Tae. I can see that. He’s . . . He doesn’t hate you, you know? He blames himself, yes, but he’s not angry with either of you. I think he just wants you guys back . . . so . . . if there’s any way . . . ask Hoseok for my number.” You paused for only a second to swallow. “You shouldn’t have to live with regrets.”
A beat of silence followed your words once again, almost as if it were mocking you. But instead of turning your words to shit, Jimin welcomed the silence. He embraced it as a small smile lifted onto his lips. And then . . . then he nodded.
It was a silent agreement, but it was good enough for you. 
This could be it.
A new leaf.
For him.
For Jungkook.
For Jungkook, you affirmed, and with that thought, you nodded back. “It was nice to meet you, Yoongi,” you mumbled genuinely, before your eyes shifted back to Jimin once again. Another nod from you. “Jimin. Tell Hoseok that Kook and I went to eat, yeah? We’ll see him at practice tomorrow.”
“Hey—“ Jimin piped up before you could leave— “remember to live for yourself, too, yeah?”
And you nodded back with a smile.
The world fell away piece by piece as you turned from them, their faces still glued to the back of your mind, but you couldn’t waste any more time. As it was, your anger had already bubbled over and burned enough bridges that night to waste a lifetime. You should’ve kept your cool. You should’ve tried to see everything from a bigger picture, but this rage trapped inside you seemed to be bigger than you knew how to control. Sure, it had subsided now . . . but only because . . . because that was what was right.
You didn’t know how to explain it, but . . . Jungkook had become someone important to you, perhaps the most important in your life. You’d never felt that before. You never thought you’d be able to care about someone this much before, but . . . you did, and that was enough to put away that anger boiling deep inside you just enough to do right . . . for him.
Did that make you crazy? Maybe . . . maybe it did, but there wasn’t much in you to care about things like that. All you wanted was to find him. If you found him, everything would be alright. It would. You swore it would. 
Your feet didn’t feel like your own as you raced down the halls of the karaoke bar. The lights had begun to blur together in your vision, creating mixes of blue and purple racing in your peripheral. You’d even looked into room after room, disturbing group after group, solely searching for him.
Until . . . with your heart pounding in your chest, your breathing uneven, and a relentless shiver shaking throughout your body, through the muted colorful lights, you caught sight of a man’s figure crouched down in a corner of the building. His hands were covering his ears, his face hidden in his knees as he breathed heavily, but he was there. You’d found him. Instantly, your muscles relaxed. Exhale.
You’d found him. “Ju—” but you quickly cut yourself off before you could draw any attention to yourself.
Think. You had to think. You couldn’t approach him like you normally would. You couldn’t go in all thorns and nails on a chalkboard. This was different. This was what you had read about. What you realized you had never been good at—comfort.
How could you comfort? You had never been nurturing. Hell, you’d read something once that told you some women just weren’t meant to be mothers, and you knew you were one of them. You knew you couldn’t didn’t know how to be . . . soft.
But you had to try. For him . . .
And then you remembered:
Five Ways You Can Help Someone With an Anxiety Disorder:
Validate Their Feelings by Letting Them Know It’s Okay Not to Be Okay
Don’t Tell Them to Calm Down
Encourage Them to Focus on Things They Can Change
Help Them to Help Themselves
Discourage the Use of Alcohol or Drugs to Cope With Anxiety
But . . . but . . . fuck! How was that supposed to help you now? Let them know it’s OK not to be OK. OK . . . You swallowed hard. You could do that. Focus on things they can change. OK, OK. You could do that, too.
Hesitantly, you took a step forward.
But shit! You paused, halting in your movements. What if that didn’t work? What if you didn’t do it right? What if it only made it worse? What if you only made him worse?
Just . . . just . . . fuck, OK! Just— 
“Kookie,” you heard yourself say clearly before you knew you had even opened your mouth.
In response, his breathing stopped but he didn’t raise his head to meet your gaze. Instead . . . “It’s OK. Just go back . . . “ he muttered out, just loud enough for you to hear, but he still wouldn’t meet your eyes. “I’m OK.”
I’m OK. You swallowed hard. No . . . no, he wasn’t, and unlike all those years ago, you were not going to leave him behind. Not now. Never again.
It didn’t take another second for you to cross the distance to him before you sank to your knees right in front of him, reminding yourself not to startle him. “I’m here,” was all you said, fighting against everything harsh and rough in you, trying desperately to be soft.
The thing was: people could tell you countless amounts of things on how to help someone, but . . . you’d never get it. You weren’t good at it. You couldn’t do that, be that. You knew him, too. He wasn’t textbook like all the things you’d read up on. You assumed no one was . . . so . . . you’d like to add one more to the list: ask him how you could help.
“What—” you inhaled sharply— “What do you need me to do?”
Still, Jungkook would not meet your eyes, but he didn’t need to. You saw his body shift. You saw him process your words. And you knew he wasn’t going to hide from you. “Just—” he all but choked out— “ground me. Put your arms. Squeeze . . . hard.”
And just like that, you acted quickly. You didn’t waste any time as you scooted behind him, wrapping your arms around his figure, locking him into your body, and squeezing as he’d instructed. Resting your cheek on his back, you continued hugging his body to yours, listening to his heartbeat as you did so. Squeezing your eyes shut, you begged for this to help him, but the beat of his racing heart met your ears like a drum.
It wasn’t enough. You had to keep going. 
“OK, OK, what else?” you asked him, your voice clear and calm . . . and soft.
But the beat of his heart was the only thing you heard.
Ground him. You squeezed harder. “You’re here with me. I’ve got you. You’re safe. Speak to me, Koo,” you all but begged.
“Tell me something,” he mumbled, and you nearly exhaled in relief. “Please, say anything.”
Nodding quickly, you tried to scrounge up something, anything. “OK, um, um,” you stuttered out, racking your brain over and over again, until finally . . . “Do you remember when we were kids and my parents rented that cabin for the summer? You had this fake tattoo of a dragon that you really really wanted to put on your arm right—“ you grabbed his forearm, pressing your thumb into a spot— “here, but I wanted everything you had so I just had to have the tattoo. I whined and whined until you finally let me have it. And yet, in the end, my mom forgot to take off the plastic so neither of us ended up with the damn tattoo and we were both pissed.” Smiling against his back, you readjusted your grip on him, holding him closer than before, perhaps so close your souls could almost touch. “Your mom made us hold hands until we got over it.”
And with a small smile on your face, you heard it . . . 
His heart rate had started to slow, his breathing becoming more controlled as he tried his hardest to breathe in deep and exhale long. Was it? Was it working? OK. OK. Speak more. Speak—
“Yeah, and you wouldn’t stop crying, meanwhile, I won that thing in a raffle,” he interrupted before you could rack your brain for another memory. 
Wetting your lips, you replied, “But it worked, didn’t it?” Your eyes danced around the room, the memory almost as clear as day. The smile on your face grew. “We were sitting by the fire, getting way too messy with those s’mores you swore you knew how to make.”
“We camped outside the entire night,” Jungkook mumbled under his breath, his shoulders shaking slightly as a small laugh escaped him.
“Yeah, until you almost pissed your pants because you thought you heard a bear,” you remarked, the smile on your face too wide to contain.
“Hey!” he quipped back as his hand fell to your arm. “I was like nine.”
In shock, you watched as Jungkook slowly raised his hands to cover your arms, hugging them to his chest. Then, you rested your ear against his chest, and you realized his heartbeat had returned almost to normal . . . and . . . and . . . his breathing had calmed. And then you saw it, a drop of . . . something had wet his shirt where your cheek laid . . . and you realized . . . you were crying.
Was this softness that you felt? Or weakness?
The truth was: you didn’t care. Not now. 
Quickly, you wiped your damp cheeks on your shoulder and sniffled. “Scaredy cat,” you mumbled with a soft laugh.
Jungkook breathed out a laugh through his nose. “Brat,” he hummed as he squeezed your forearm.
A beat of silence met the two of you then. You nestled closer, holding him until he finally gave you the go-ahead that he was alright. You’d stay there all night if you had to. And he welcomed this with open arms, holding you as close as he could in his position, and just letting things . . . be, it seemed. 
Until, finally, after what seemed like hours, he whispered against your forearm, “I’m sorry.”
And you couldn’t help yourself. Your brows pinched together, confusion revisiting you as you asked, “For what?”
“You don’t need this,” was his only answer.
Another beat of silence.
And then: “You’ll always be unhappy when it comes to me.”
Squeezing your eyes shut, your only response was to hug him tighter. Fuck.
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It is not the moon, I tell you. It is these flowers lighting the yard.
As the night droned on, writings upon writings popped into your head as you tried to make sense of this, of tonight, of everything; one, in particular, visited you too frequently to be ignored; one that you had held onto for years now. You supposed it was a silly thing—realizing just how many poems you had trapped in your head, but you had three years of isolation, three years of loneliness, three years where you only read and read and read. Those three years . . . poems had been all you had.
You supposed it would always end this way.
I hate them. I hate them as I hate sex, the man’s mouth sealing my mouth, the man’s paralyzing body—
And like the poem stated, these words remained true to you. You hated many things, perhaps too much. In those three years, you had grown to hate another’s touch, perhaps because you craved it so viscerally. But . . . the scent of mock orange wasn’t in the form of a man for you. To you . . . the scent of mock orange smelled a lot like a badminton racket.
and the cry that always escapes, the low, humiliating premise of union—
Perhaps you had grown to hate badminton. You hadn’t even realized it, but . . . looking back at it now . . . you had done everything to be someone . . . to be the best, and you had wanted that. You had really wanted that. Sometimes you thought it was the only thing that would ever make you happy, but . . . 
But . . . 
In my mind tonight I hear the question and pursuing answer fused in one sound that mounts and mounts and then is split into the old selves, the tired antagonisms. Do you see? We were made fools of. And the scent of mock orange drifts through the window.
But perhaps . . . like growing pains . . . a part of you had outgrown badminton. Could this be real? Could you really have outgrown the one thing you had ever loved? And if you truly had . . . what did that mean for you now?
How can I rest? How can I be content when there is still that odor in the world?
That odor.
That damned odor of mock orange blossoms.
. . . You had smelt them the day of the incident. The stench had followed you to the hospital, crawling under your skin and resting there for the months to follow. They hadn't even bloomed then, yet you still smelt them every time you breathed. When your heart felt less heavy and your mind was clearer than the day before, when it became month after month after month, the scent finally rid itself from your senses. And you thought you might have actually been allowed to rest without that odor in the world.
But as another month melted into the next, and you tried to get back onto your feet again, the scent of mock orange drifted back into your life. You, of course, ignored this, eager to get back on your feet. You’d been able to take a few steps, which eased the ache you had been carrying around for the past few months. You knew it was stupid to imagine you could actually be healed after a few months, but you didn’t care. You just wanted to walk again . . . maybe run . . . maybe play again with a racket in your hand.
It was nice—being able to dream for a few minutes.
But it did only last for a short time. Soon you being you had gotten too cocky in your progress. You wanted to try longer walks. You wanted to see if you could run.
Then as you ignored the warning signs from your parents, from your doctors, from your nurses, the second they allowed you out on the hospital courtyard, you took off, attempting to run. But . . . before you knew it, something snapped and . . . you were tumbling to the ground, crying in pain.
And just like that . . . the scent of mock orange drifted in and remained in the air.
You remembered just laying there after that, contemplating just how much this would set you back as the nurses hurried you back to your room to be examined. You wondered if you had fucked yourself entirely. You wondered if this was it and you would never be able to play or even walk again. You wondered what that made you now. You might as well have not even been a person anymore, because back then . . . badminton had been all that you had. Back then, if you weren’t the best; if you weren’t someone great, then you were nothing. 
And yes, you knew you had never been particularly interesting, but you never thought you were . . . nothing. The scent of mock orange tainting the air reminded you of the truth—without badminton, you might as well have been no one.
As you were escorted back to your room, examined, and left to rest, you laid there, the scent of mock orange being your sole company, and you realized you hated them. You hated those stupid, putrid flowers as you hated feeling . . . less. You hated them as you hated yourself.
Guilt might have been your ghost, but the scent of mock orange was your shadow.
How could you rest? How could you be content when there was still that odor in the world?
You were sure you never would.
And truly . . . how could you rest? If you were constantly trying to be better and better? When would you finally be the best? Could you be? No . . . no, you knew you couldn’t, but then who were you?
Who were you without . . . badminton?
That was the question on your mind as you flicked at your ramyeon with your chopsticks. You supposed like the mock orange blossoms, your coming-of-age escapades did not deliver the fruits of its promise. Becoming someone was all you had ever wanted out of life. You wanted glory. You wanted greatness. And yet . . . why did the thought of badminton slowly and slowly start to turn into this . . . dark thing? Why was it that when badminton was involved . . . bad things happened?
Now, you didn’t believe in signs and you surely wouldn’t start now . . . but it became evident that you had been made a fool of, wishing on a shooting star that was on its last breath. The scent of mock orange would drift in every time, reminding you that you would never reach that greatness again no matter how many times you tried. 
And that should’ve filled you with rage . . . jealousy . . . pain . . . but . . . you didn’t feel any of that. What you felt, at its core, was a gentle ache in your chest; the same kind of ache which came with nostalgia. 
You just couldn’t stop thinking of it. Actually . . . you hadn’t stopped thinking about that scent of mock orange since you saw Jimin earlier that night. He’d told you Taehyung had loved badminton the most . . . he told you he was a ghost of himself now because of what he lost. And then you began to think of what had happened to you . . . 
Those three years . . .
All you had ever thought about was getting back to the person you used to be. That was all you had cared about, and when you finally won that first game all those months ago . . . you had felt that same joy that you had always felt after a win. Except . . . this was different, you realized.
Remembering the win now, the image of you smashing the birdie down onto the court wasn’t what came to mind first. No, you remembered that day; you remembered the thrill of the win, but the image that came to mind first was Jungkook smiling down at you moments before you sprung into his arms.
Jungkook was what you remembered that day, not the look on the other team’s faces when you took home that winning title. And then you realized what you had been trying to ignore ever since you let your walls come down layer by layer: perhaps . . . perhaps there was more to life than badminton.
In the months you had let Jungkook in, you’d lived more than you had in your entire life. You’d laughed more, smiled more, felt more. You’d felt yourself be more. 
The scent of mock orange never visited you when he was around. It was like he was the real thing. You weren’t even sure if that made any sense. But . . . but . . . if you couldn’t smell those damned phony flowers, then perhaps Jungkook had taken their place. By chance . . . did he smell like an orange blossom? Without mocking, without malice, without trickery? Was he . . . real?
There was just something about the world that Jungkook had shown you that had a way of making everything just . . . mute. It was like before he’d shown you life through his eyes, everything had been loud, intense, brutal. And then . . . there he was, a bright smile on his face and the words ‘trust me’ leaving his lips as he held out his hand for you to take.
And you took it every time.
The scent of mock orange blossoms was left behind. And you began to wonder if just as you had outgrown your hatred for Jungkook . . . had you outgrown this visceral urge to hold a racket in your calloused hand?
Glancing down, you took in the image of your hand. The calluses were still there, the small cuts from accidental injuries, the bitten nails . . . they were all still there. Did they still fit around the base of a racket as they had three years ago?
You blinked, flexing your hand. Whatever, you decided. It would be tomorrow’s problem. (But we all know how good you were about . . . not . . . getting in over your head (so like, give yourself five minutes and you’d be thinking about it again).)
Whatever. Whatever. Whatever.
Anyway.
Focus on the present.
Yes, that was the plan. You nodded at your thoughts as you blinked, forcing yourself back to the present.
The scent of mock orange blossoms still lingered in the air as you tried grounding yourself to reality. Ignoring them was the best you could do. Because right now, you were supposed to be present, aware, and solid. You were supposed to be Jungkook’s shoulder to lean on after what he had endured at the karaoke bar. You were supposed to know what to do . . . but you didn’t know anything. You just . . . you just wanted him to be alright . . . 
And all you could focus on was the fact that the two of you hadn’t spoken since you held him about—
You checked your phone.
—an hour and a half ago.
It had been quiet between the two of you ever since. It had been even quieter the second you stepped inside the nearest convenience store. (Who knew how long ago that was.)
The convenience store was perhaps too quiet now. The two of you had bought some instant ramyeon—one spicy, one mild and sat at the nearest tables outlooking the streets of Busan. Many people had walked back and forth, going about their night (well . . . now early morning), but not once had either of you decided to make little guesses about their lives as you had done many times before. No instead . . . Jungkook was silent. And you were too. 
But . . . you didn’t like the silence; not like . . . this. Slowly, with that thought plaguing your mind, you turned your head toward him.
Jungkook sat beside you, his head lowered slightly as he stared blankly out the window. He hadn’t touched his ramyeon once, which was evident as his chopsticks were all too clean without any stain or color. He just kept staring out the window, following those who walked by with his eyes all the while his tongue toyed with his lip ring. 
It was obvious why he was stuck in this limbo. Sure, of course it was all too obvious, but that didn’t make it any easier. Knowing why he was stuck like this wouldn’t do anything to . . . help.
And suddenly you were reminded of what Jimin had told you that night. Remember to live for yourself, too, he’d said before you left him. He’d told you it was impossible to live for two, but . . . why? Why couldn’t you? Why couldn’t you at least . . . help? You supposed the problem in that was the fact that you had no idea how to help, and that scared you more than you’d liked to admit.
You just . . . you just wanted him to be OK . . .
“You gonna eat that?” you heard yourself ask him before you knew what you were even saying.
Jungkook turned to you instantly with an almost shocked expression on his face as if he couldn’t remember where he was or who he was, but his eyes still shined with recognition as if he could still recognize you despite it all. He blinked slowly, eyes drifting over your face, and then . . . then he slowly started to relax. His shoulders slumped slightly as the stiff muscles in his face loosened. And once he returned to the present, his eyes drifted from your questioning expression to the ramyeon in front of him . . . and then he was shoving a huge bite into his mouth all the while maintaining eye contact with you while he chewed.
You shot him a blank look, because you knew what he was doing—avoiding the inevitable by trying to make light of the situation. “I wasn’t going to force-feed it to you, you know?” you ended up mumbling as you continued to watch him chew, half making sure he ate all of it and half not sure where to rest your gaze.
“Don’t look at me like that then,” Jungkook muttered, his words muffled from the food in his mouth.
“Like what?” you questioned as you leaned closer to him, analyzing the crease between his furrowed brows.
His eyes shifted to the ground ever so slightly before he turned back to meet your gaze. “Like you pity me or something,” he huffed, jutting out his bottom lip into a pout as he averted his gaze to his bowl of ramyeon.
And you couldn’t help but let the corners of your mouth perk up into a small smile. He was still the boy you remembered when you were kids. He hadn’t changed too much. He was still . . . him. Only now, you had grown to appreciate how he was unlike in the past. Now . . . when he flashed you that pout, you wasted no time in waving him off with a small sigh. 
“Oh, Jungkookie,” you all but mused as you grabbed a napkin from the table, “sometimes it’s like you’re still that whiny little kid I grew up with.” You brought the napkin to his lips, gently dabbing. “You really haven’t changed at all, you know?”
With his eyes flicking from the napkin to your face, he timidly licked his lips and mumbled, “I was not whiny.”
You breathed a small, barely audible laugh. “Mmm, if it helps you sleep at night,” you hummed with a small shrug as your hand, now discarding the napkin, reached his face once again, except this time, you barely thought about your next move. Instead, you let your hand drift to his hair gently curling the long, dark strands behind his ear. 
And he just stared at you, his dark eyes warm and gentle as they always had been. His brows twitched as you alternated between playing with his earrings and toying with the longest strands of his hair. He almost seemed . . . at peace, and you wondered if this could be considered a moment of happiness?
Perhaps . . . 
It was moments like this that you wondered how the sick smell of mock orange blossoms had ever ruined your life. 
But like the poem described . . . the smell wasn’t something to be forgotten. It eventually seeped back in. And just as Jungkook had almost allowed himself to sink into your touch, his eyes turned back to the window where he caught a glimpse of his reflection.
It was almost soul-crushing how fast his face fell.
Jungkook took one last look at his reflection, shaking his head slightly as he averted his gaze to the table and clenched his jaw. "Fuck,” he whispered out, his voice hoarse, “this is so fucking annoying. Everything feels so off. I just . . . “ His words tangled around his tongue as he dropped his head to his hands. “Everyone always looks at me like I'm some fucking problem. Like if they get to my core, they can fix me. But I can't be fucking fixed. I fucked up. I ruined my best friend’s life. I don't deserve to be fixed."
And suddenly it was as if you were twelve years old again, seeing your mother cry for the first time and not knowing what to do or what to say. You had grown up that way—not being able to comfort. It had always been who you were. You’d never known what to do to . . . help. 
Yes, you could follow the directions of some online article and you could ask and ask and ask how to help him, but would it ever be enough? And what if he said he was fine when he was so clearly not? What then? How were you supposed to help then?
God, you wished you knew the answers. 
“You’re not broken, Koo,” you started with, your voice just as small as how you felt in that moment.
“What if I am?” he mumbled into his hands. Slowly, he raised his head, and for another time that night, you faced that crushed look on his face. For another time that night, you saw the things he had been dealing with all on his own. You saw him. “What if I . . . ?”
And then you realized: you didn’t know how to comfort, but you did know how to bear things well. You knew how to crumble up the pain of not being good enough. You knew how to deal with a dream being crushed. You knew how to just . . . deal, and if Jungkook needed help, you could carry the load for him.
So, swallowing your own emotions bubbling up in your throat, you began slowly, "I know I can’t say . . . anything. I know that no matter what I do it's not gonna' make you feel better, because shit doesn't work that way. I'm not some fuckin' hero. I know that. You just need to know that I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere, okay? I'm never leaving your side." Nodding your head, you could feel your eyes burning again. But you didn’t care. The world could see you cry for him and only him and you’d accept it with a heavy heart.
A beat of silence followed your confession.
The world exhaled.
You inhaled as you rested your hand on top of his moments before you began again, "You're—I care about you. . . and—and that means that no matter what time it is, if you feel like you're gonna do something to yourself, then you call me. We can go throw shit off a bridge or—or punch dummies. You need to scream? Then we can go scream until our lungs bleed, okay? Whatever. It doesn't matter. Just—" you squeezed his hand as your heart pulsed in pain in your chest— "You're not alone."
Though the expression on his face didn’t lift, Jungkook accepted your hand, taking it within his grasp to intertwine your fingers together with his. “It’s been months . . . and I still feel like this . . . “ he trailed off, gently shaking his head as he turned back to his reflection in the window.
Instantly, your free hand found his cheek, slowly turning his head so his eyes would only face yours. “I don’t think healing is . . . linear,” you admitted softly. “If I think about it . . . it took me years to be able to play again. Mental shit has to be like that too, right?”
His eyes fluttered shut under your touch. “I don’t know,” he softly sighed as his other hand reached to rest over the one you had caressing his cheek. “I’m just tired of feeling like this.” He swallowed thickly. “I just . . . it’s like . . . I watch everyone else live their lives while I endure mine. And—And I don't know what to do. Sometimes everything just gets so intense, and it just happens. It's like it's some fucked up kind of instinct. Trust me, I wish I could feel something other than this, but I don't feel anything. It's all fucking numb." He nearly dropped your hand, but you clung on tighter, refusing to let him slip through your fingers. "I don't fucking know what I feel. I just . . . I feel like a fucking ghost."
And for the second time that night, you watched the once never-bothered Jungkook reveal another layer of himself to you. 
I feel like a fucking ghost, rang in your ears again.
Jungkook squeezed his eyes tight and slowly . . . a single tear trickled from the corner of his eye down the side of his nose. 
I feel like a fucking ghost, once more, and you knew the words which would leave your lips before you even had the chance to think.
"Haunt me, then," you found yourself breathing out in a hushed whisper as your thumb caught his fallen tear, wiping it away with ease.
His eyes cracked open, a shocked expression crawling onto his face. "What?” he barely got out as he searched your eyes for anything that would tell him you hadn’t meant to say . . . that.
But you had.
Haunt me, you’d told him, and you knew you’d meant it. The words didn’t have to cross your mind for you to know what you spoke was the truth.
Haunt me.
Haunt me.
Haunt me.
Give it to me, and breathe.
That is what you had wanted to say. That is what you had meant. You could only hope he knew you were telling the truth.
Tilting your head to the side, you breathed out the air in your lungs. "I told you before, and I meant it,” you began in a gentle tone. “I'll carry the weight for you. All of the pain, the anger, the hatred . . . all of it . . . I will carry it all. Give it all to me, and I will find a way to deal with it." Squeezing his hand once again, you offered up a small smile. "You're not alone anymore, Kook. You do not have to deal with all your shit on your own. You've got me, and you can hate me, you can push me away, you can leave me stranded with no way home . . . but I promise you, I'm not going anywhere."
His brows twitched. “I can’t do that. You’ve got too much to think about.”
You shrugged with a roll of your eyes as you dropped your hand to your intertwined ones. “Like what? I’ve never thought a day in my life. Barely passed college with a 2.7,” you hummed, your voice a little more chipper now as you tried to keep his eyes on you and coax a smile out of him. “I’ve got nothing to worry about.”
“The games,” he muttered with a small sniffle. “You’re shit at multitasking.”
That time, you did smile wider. There he was. “I can manage,” you mused as you leaned into him, nudging him with your elbow. “How about let’s go feed the fish by our hotel after practice tomorrow, hmm? To relax? Yeah?”
And then . . . you could have sworn he nodded. Maybe it was to himself or maybe it was to you, but you knew what it meant. You would accept a nod.
“You gonna eat that?” he asked a second later, gesturing to the half-eaten bowl of ramyeon in front of you.
And you knew he would be OK by your side. You would make sure of it. (You were the older one after all.)
So with a small smile still on your face, you detached your hands from his and reached for your bowl, scooting it toward him. Quietly, he took it from you and began to devour what you had left.
Yeah . . . he was still the same kid you knew growing up. And that . . . that was enough to make your heart feel warm.
It made you wonder if you could ever be . . . warm . . . like him. Unlike this cold, hollow shell you were so used to. Was that even written in your books? 
Wetting your lips, your eyes fell to your lap, only to be met with the image of Jungkook’s hand resting on your thigh, secured under the holes in your ripped jeans. It seemed without you noticing, Jungkook had absentmindedly reached for you, toying with the strings adorning the rips in your jeans, only to end up nestled underneath in an attempt to feel your skin against his.
It was sweet. Innocent. 
It made you feel warm, yet again, yes. But it also made you feel . . . fuck . . . what was that word?
And that was when you realized something . . .
“You’re wrong, you know?” you ended up muttering out before your brain could catch up with your impulse.
Jungkook hummed, eyeing you. His eyes were still slightly puffy, causing your heart to swell in your chest.
How could he ever think he deserved this?
Wetting your lips, you confessed, “I’m a better person because of you. How could I ever be unhappy with that?”
Jungkook blinked, clearly shocked. Then, he began to toy with his lip ring before he sucked in a sharp inhale and nearly whispered, “All I want . . . is for you to be happy.”
And you couldn’t help but smile. It was warm. It was innocent. It was because of him. “Would you look at that?” you mused in a quiet voice. “Looks like we just came to an agreement.”
The corners of his lips twitched ever so slightly as he nodded once before the two of you resumed your late-night slash early-morning meal. He finished your food for you, and you watched, making sure he ate it all, all the while, the words, I’m a better person because of you rang throughout the air.
I’m a better person because of you.
How could I ever be unhappy with that?
And you knew you meant every word.
The scent of mock orange blossoms couldn’t reach you now. 
Not here. 
Not with him.
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When you were a kid, every Barbie doll your mother ever bought you would end up scalped and decapitated. Now . . . morbid . . . you knew. You weren’t exactly sure why you resorted to . . . that, but playing with dolls just always meant ripping their heads off. You supposed it was kind of symbolic now. 
Maybe you were jealous that their lives were perfect and yours was . . . meh. Or maybe you really just really hated dolls.
You supposed there had always been a certain sickness to you; a certain uneasiness that came with being a preteen girl. You were told sweet sixteen was when the claws came out, but you began to question if yours had grown in long before then. Maybe you had been born like . . . this or maybe everyone just felt this way and spent most of their lives hiding it, because if not . . . 
. . . it felt like life was just some sick joke that you hadn’t clued in on yet.
Perhaps that was why you had become so keen on poetry: it said what you feared only you felt. 
Because really, you used to use pages out of books to fasten a joint in a pinch, too, and now it physically hurt to imagine ever even tearing a page. 
But words felt more comforting now. Sure, a racket felt like it fit into you like a hook in an eye, but now . . . now it felt just a tad more awkward than it had in the past. Words . . . words could never disappoint you, you decided long ago when they had been all that you had had.
There’s something soft in me—
You remembered reading long ago.
—we killed it and it’s rotting.
And maybe it was silly. Maybe it was dramatic, but words made things feel better. It made the world less scary. It made looking at Jungkook and wondering what this feeling in your chest was . . . not so scary. It made things . . . better.
So, you’d read, and you’d overanalyze, and you’d spend your time too wrapped up in words because it made everything that much bearable. Because it made the fact that your claws didn’t come in at sixteen so much easier to swallow; it made the fact that there was nothing soft about you alright.
Because maybe there had been something soft about you long ago. Or maybe you had killed it; maybe you had taken the softness and traded it for survival, only to discover all the rot inside of you that you had been trying to ignore for years now. 
Had the fire gotten a hold of you even back then? 
Is that why you no longer feared it? Because there was nothing left to fear? Did all this rot mean you were no different from a hit deer off the highway? 
. . . 
Whatever. 
It didn’t mean much, right? 
There were no birds coming to feast on your rotting corpse like the deer you wondered if you resembled. Nothing had come to consume your body as the world had consumed your soul. You were just there . . . 
With a sigh, you clicked off your phone, disregarding the poem as you shoved it all away into the back of the pocket of your athletic shorts. And as you stood there, you slowly glanced up only to meet the image of Jungkook walking toward you, a half-smile on his tired face with a duffel bag over his shoulder and a racket in his hand. You hadn’t seen him since you woke up that morning, quickly dressed and told him you’d meet him at the center after your run. And there he was, his hair in a small ponytail with a grin on his face at the sight of you. (You tried to ignore the urge to meet him halfway. (Also ignoring this . . . weird feeling blooming in your chest the second you saw him.))
“Well, it seems the sun’s decided to come out after all,” were the first words out of his mouth as he drew closer. And only then did you realize the day was dreary, filled with dark clouds and humid spring air. 
Tearing your eyes from the clouds above, your gaze landed on Jungkook just as he stopped before you, setting his duffel bag on the pavement beside you. He wasted no time either, poking your abdomen with his racket. “Bad day already?” he questioned, tilting his head to the side in thought.
Sighing, you shook your head. “No, just . . . thinking.”
“Well, stop, it’s aging you,” he lightly scolded.
You squinted your eyes into a glare. “You’re on one today.”
And well . . . all he did was wink. Of course.
Now . . . you knew how this looked. Just last night you and him were up into the early morning nursing each other’s wounds and now it seemed like it hadn’t even happened, but there was a reason for that. The two of you knew each other. He appreciated that you didn’t make it a big thing. You were always going to be there for him; that much was obvious by now given your history with each other. But if there was one thing the two of you both hated, it was being treated as if you were as fragile as glass. So for now . . . last night was a little secret between the two of you, and right now . . . right now you both had to get your heads in the game for the finals tomorrow.
So there . . . that was that. At least that was how it was for you. You were sure it was the same for him, but it wasn’t like you could think about that right now either. Right now you had to think of the tournament as draining as it felt to even acknowledge it.
But just as you were about to move past it all and grab your own duffle bag from the ground, Jungkook halted you with a hand on your wrist. Your eyes immediately snapped to his.
“You sure you’re good?” he questioned once more, his eyes wider now, more concerned than before.
(There’s something soft in me—
But you couldn’t burden him now. Not after what he went through last night. Because you knew him, and you knew he’d do anything to make things right for you . . . even if it meant ignoring his own troubles. And well, despite what you liked to claim, you couldn’t bear to do that to him.
—we killed it and it’s rotting.)
So instead, you blurted out: “Just stressed, you know?”
His brows pinched together slightly, but he didn’t press it further. “Right . . . “
And that was that. You didn’t let another word pass between the two of you as you picked up both your duffel bag and his and began to walk toward the training center. Jungkook, of course, fought you the entire way, trying to grab the duffel bags from your hands, but you insisted, tsking at him as he tried to outsmart you (as if he ever could).
While he repeatedly tried to snatch at least one bag from your grasp, your eyes were training on the scene in front of you. And it was only when the two of you turned the corner, now facing the center head-on, that you realized maybe the dark clouds had been a sign telling you to turn back; to stay inside; to practice somewhere else. Jungkook, on the other hand, was preoccupied, as, in your shock, he managed to snatch both duffel bags from your grasp. And he was mighty proud of himself too until he heard what you had seen . . . and slowly the grin fell from his lips as he turned to face the scene.
Because before the two of you, crowding in front of the training center were reporters on top of reporters with their big flashy cameras and notepads, and . . . behind them, spray painted across the building was your name . . . with the words ‘is a traitor’ too big not to notice.
There’s something soft in me—
we killed it and it’s rotting.
It happened in slow motion. The reporters caught sight of the two of you, and that was it. They were racing toward you in seconds, all screaming this and that, trying to get a story, and all you could do was stare in a state of confusion and shock as if you were waiting for a car to pop out of nowhere and hit you.
Off the highway like another deer.
You’d never seen something like it. Sure, you’d seen this stuff in movies, but never in real life, never because of . . . you. There had been articles published when you fell out of the badminton scene three years ago, but never something like this. Never something like this. Fuck, even the interview you’d done as a team were never like . . . this.
Off the highway like another girl.
What was . . . this?
It was bad. You knew it was bad, but you couldn’t hear anything. You could see Jungkook growing angry beside you, pushing the reporters back as he said . . . something . . . but you couldn’t quite make out what it was. You couldn’t hear it. You couldn’t hear anything.
You should have known better. You should've known there was a chance something bad would happen. Because like always, when you got that sick feeling in the pit of your stomach, when the dark clouds came out and the air felt wet but chilly but humid . . . something bad always happened. But you hadn't thought that the world would be so cruel, especially the day before the end.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. This wasn’t supposed to—
You felt the world caving in on you. You felt small. Small and disgusting. You wanted to disappear. You wanted to run, but you couldn't. Your mind had been the only thing to stay alert. Just run, you thought. Run. Run. Fucking run.
But you couldn't. You wanted to but the camera kept flashing and the reporters kept yelling and yelling and yelling and all you could make out was that everyone hated you. Suddenly, it was three years ago and everyone was pretending to be nice to you, then bitching about you behind your back. Suddenly, you were falling. Your hip was hurting. You were screaming and nobody cared. Nobody cared. Nobody—and then you were pushing everyone away again. Suddenly, you were alone again. And then you felt it. You felt it all, and then . . . then you couldn't breathe.
I can't breathe. You tried gasping for air, but it never stuck in your lungs. I can't breathe. You could have sworn this was what drowning felt like as your breaths came out quicker and quicker. Oh, my God, I can't fucking breathe.
You needed air. You needed to run.
Your eyes darted to the training center, and you knew what you had to do. You forced your legs to move as you tried to make it to the center. You’d be inside in a minute; you just needed a second. One second and you could breathe again.
But before you could even really move to make it, a hand was on your shoulder, and it wasn’t who you thought it’d be. No, it wasn’t a comforting touch; it was the touch of a reporter trying to make you stay in place just for you to answer their question. There was no making it out of this.
Glancing up, your eyes met the reporter’s and then you finally heard the words you’d been drowning out all morning: “Are the bribing rumors true?”
All air escaped your lungs. Bribing? You? “What?” you weakly asked (you’d never sounded like this before in your life, and yet . . . ).
But before anything else could escalate, Jungkook was stepping in front of you. His body blocked yours from the reporters, his hand carefully resting on your hip as he tucked you behind him while he mumbled, “Don’t bother—”
“What—” you blurted out before you could stop yourself— “What rumors?” 
You just . . . you wanted to know. Bribing? All you’d ever done in your career was try to be the best. You’d put blood and tears and sweat and everything into badminton, and this . . . this was how it repaid you. You’d fucked up your leg for it; fucked up your life; fucked up everything just to hold a fucking racket in your hand and now they wanted to say that you bribed your way into . . . into what? Success? You wanted to know the truth. You wanted to know.
But no one bothered giving you an answer. It was just question after question, confusing you more and more, and all you could come to the conclusion was the fact that the whole world must have thought you were as horrible as a person as you feared you were.
So, the final person asked, “Do you have anything to say?”
And all you could fathom was: “I—” you swallowed hard— “I . . . don’t care.”
That was it.
I don’t care, you’d said even though you did, because you always had. You cared too much. Too fucking much. And you were too much. And this was too much. And just . . . just . . . 
You didn’t bother thinking further. Your mind went blank as you tore yourself from the scene. Dropping your racket to the ground, you took a step backward. 
. . . And then you were gone.
Run, you’d told yourself, and finally, you listened.
And as you ran, you realized, things were easy for you when you could ignore them. If you spent your time worrying about everyone else, then there would be no more time left to worry about yourself. You supposed that was an issue on its own, but that was how you survived. 
A burnt child loves the fire. Yes, and you did. You loved it because it meant you’d have one more reason to survive. Survive enough and you wouldn’t have to deal with the aftermath. Just keep surviving the fire. That . . . that was what you were good at.
But you didn’t know how to deal with . . . this.
This wasn’t a fire. Far from it. 
It was almost as if you were stuck at the bottom of a lake, your foot trapped under a rock, unable to get to the surface. And no matter how hard you fought to unsheath yourself, you stayed trapped at the bottom, water threatening to clog your air pipes.
And the thing they don’t tell you about drowning: it only takes forty seconds.
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Forty seconds turned into minutes then an hour, and you began to wonder how long you had been left at the bottom of that lake. How long until the water finally reached your lungs?
It was about half an hour ago when you’d finally found the pond just outside the hotel your team was staying in, that you’d finally searched up whatever the fuck had gotten you in so much shit.
Yunis Doubles Player Accused of Bribing Referee to Make Nationals, was the headline. Apparently, an anonymous inside source had come forward and claimed that you’d not only bribed your way into winning each tournament for your team, but on top of that, you were also taking whatever drug to help with your fucked leg.
And get this . . . apparently it was because once you won finals, you’d go on to sign for Russia, leaving Korea behind, essentially making yourself a traitor. So there it was. In less than a day, you were a traitor, a drug abuser, and a cheat. Because apparently, that was true. 
Whatever . . .  it didn’t matter anyway. Even though it wasn’t true, the media had made it so, so it was by default. And as if badminton hadn’t already been feeling like a chore, your love for it lessened and lessened into . . . this hate.
That was what you felt: hate. Had you become hatred now?
Had you become a ghost, too? . . . Had you always been? . . . 
“Don’t do it. You’ve got so much to live for,” you heard a voice say in a joking manner behind you just as you tossed another rock into the large pond below your dangling feet. (The voice had startled you all the same, nearing skyrocketing the rock out of your grasp, but we don’t dwell on that.)
Still . . . 
. . . you didn’t jump. There was no need to. Startled or not, there was no need to fear. You knew that voice, and it only ever filled you with comfort, nothing else.
So instead of answering, you dropped your head in shame, eyes on the koi fish swimming idly through the water below you as your hands tightened around the edge of the rickety bridge. 
Jungkook had found you. Somehow he always managed to make his way back to you, no matter how many times you pushed him away.
(It used to be annoying. Now it was just . . . well . . . it was something else now. It had grown into something . . . more . . .)
His footsteps grew closer. He was behind you now. Close, yet still so very distant.
Silence for only a beat more.
And then, he spoke.
“I was trying to find an excuse to come find you,” he murmured, his words unexpecting of a response as he sat down beside you, dangling his feet over the edge of the bridge.
And you . . . you stayed still, peeking at him through the corner of your eye. Sure enough, he was real, and he was sitting there dressed in his athletic clothes, some of his hair pulled back into a ponytail, while he held in his hands two pieces of . . . bread (?). 
Your brows scrunched in confusion. “Bread was your excuse?” you questioned, your voice quiet.
Jungkook glanced between you and the bread, then back at you until he settled on the bread, tapping a finger to the loaves. “Ah . . . right . . . well . . . buy one, get one free,” he curtly explained. His eyes drifted back to you, then, as he wet his lips and sighed. “You talked about wanting to feed the fish.” Add in a shrug. “Thought this might be where I’d find you . . . so—“ a clearing of his throat— “Just—Are you OK?”
And you couldn’t help it. You took him up on his offer, silently grabbing a loaf of bread from his hands and resting it on your lap. Your eyes followed it the entire way, watching as your hand began to rip a small piece from the corner. “I think,” you finally replied to his question just as you tossed the piece of bread into the water. “I can’t force people to believe me. So—” pausing for a second, you watched as two koi fought over the piece of bread— “whatever, right?”
Jungkook plucked a piece of the bread off, but instead of throwing it to the fish, he plopped it into his mouth, chewing in contemplation. “You were always the best player,” he mumbled through the mouthful. Plucking off another piece, he waved it in your direction, gesturing to you. “They can’t take that away.”
Maybe it was the sentiment or maybe it was how he’d begun to eat the bread he brought solely to feed the fish, but you couldn’t help but fight off a smile. Because when times were like this, you felt fine; you felt . . . almost good, but when you were out there neck-and-neck, trying to hit the birdie again and again, you felt . . . off.
It made you realize that one: badminton didn’t feel like it used to and two: you weren’t entirely sure that the accusation itself was the reason behind your anger. Because maybe it was easier to be angry or sad. It always had been. 
But as you ripped off another piece of bread to throw to the fish, it hit you. You weren’t exactly hard to figure out you’d like to think, so really, put two and two together and you get one burnt-out badminton player looking for an excuse to quit.
Fuck.
It really was that, wasn’t it?
You didn’t want it to be. You didn’t want to believe it either because badminton was your life. There was no without. Like a hook in an eye. Hook in eye. Hook in eye. Hook in eye. You couldn’t escape it. 
But now . . . after years and years of trying to get back to that same person you were before the accident, you’d ignored just how draining it had begun to feel to practice and practice and try and try and . . . try. You mistook it for physical fatigue; for healing from your injury. You didn’t once think that your disinterest may have been because you had grown further and further apart from a racket in your hand and the sound of the court squeaking under your shoes. And when that reporter asked you if you’d cheated to get back in the game . . . you’d taken that chance to run away; to ruin it for yourself once more . . . and this time not for the sake of self-sabotage but perhaps . . . conservation.
So you began to ask yourself the same question that had been haunting you for a while now: how well did badminton still fit into you? You’d thought about it last night. You thought about it a million times before, refusing to acknowledge it, and now . . .
Then you found yourself turning to Jungkook. “What—” you sucked in a quick breath— “What made you want to play badminton? . . . In the beginning . . . “
Setting the bread aside, he leaned forward, resting his forearm against the lower part of the railing. “I’m not really sure,” he mumbled as he rested his cheek against his forearm. “It was just . . . easy for me. I liked being good at things.”
“But . . . “ (you had begun to toy with the bread instead of tossing it to the fish) “ . . . why did you love it?”
A few beats of silence.
Beat.
Beat.
Beat.
Then, Jungkook spoke: “The people, I think,” he finally said in a calm, collected tone, adding in a shrug at the end of his sentence. “I never really cared about being someone special; I just when I played, I always played with friends. It was fun. I think when I look back on it, it wasn’t badminton that I loved, it was the people. My friends . . . coaches . . . “ his eyes flashed to meet yours, “. . . you.” And he maintained eye contact. “It was the only time I ever felt happy, and when I grew up . . . when badminton felt more like a game of loss . . . it lost its magic. I wasn’t a kid anymore. Everyone had grown up and I was still there, on that court. . . . It wasn’t fun anymore . . . “
Oh.
Because, truly, you’d felt the same. Well . . . perhaps a tad different. Badminton had been fun for you because you always won. It was the only time you felt . . . special, good . . . worth . . . something. And when you lost it all, you felt like nothing upon nothing upon shit. So when you finally gained it all back, it was almost as if with each win, that magic Jungkook spoke up washed away bit by bit. Winning wasn’t fun anymore; it was being with him that made it worth . . . something.
But could winning itself ever have the same effect as it did years ago? Would you ever crave it so violently again?
“Do you think it could ever be fun again?” you voiced your thoughts aloud, hesitant as if admitting this aloud was some kind of sin.
“Maybe,” Jungkook muttered with another shrug. His attention was drawn on the fish now, his round, brown eyes following them as they swam to and fro. “But—” he breathed in heavily— “if I had it my way . . . I’d go back home and help run my parents’ shop.” There was that smile creeping up on his face again at the mention of home. “And if I really had it my way, I’d be thirteen again and I’d never grow up. I’d be small and happy and I’d never have to leave home again. That is what I truly want; to be that kid again . . . but for right now . . . I think I’d settle with just going home, knowing my mom’s special dish is waiting for me.”
Home.
He spoke of it so fondly, and you began to wonder if you’d ever loved it as much as he did. Now, you knew you did. Your parents were good, kind people. They were good parents. You loved them, missed them, but home had never been something that you’d acknowledged if that made any sense. You were just always looking forward to the future and who you’d become. You supposed you never stopped to take in the lines drawn onto the bathroom wall labeling your height year after year. You supposed you never stopped to catch sight of the way your mom would shave off the skin of the apple because she knew you didn’t like getting it in your teeth. You supposed you never thought of home as home because you always knew it’d be there, and now . . . now it was far far away and you were so so small, no longer great and big, and looking forward to the future. 
It made you wonder if this feeling deep inside you had something to do with missing this home Jungkook spoke of. And then you began to agree that, yes, yes you would very much like to be small again, coming home from badminton practice to the smell of your mother’s cooking and your father’s tunes playing on the CD player.
Perhaps . . . perhaps you wished you were little again, too. And perhaps you wished you could start over, this time with badminton as more of a love than a state of survival . . . and maybe then you’d know more of this . . . home.
“Kook . . . “ you began, eyes darting from fish to fish as your thoughts raced, “if I admit something . . . do you promise not to judge?”
Jungkook hummed moments before he reached out to tuck your hair behind your ear. “What’s on your mind, hmm?” he mused, nudging you with his elbow as if telling you to go on.
Another few beats of silence. (It was odd how it kept lurking over your shoulder like a vice.)
And then: wetting your lips, you swallowed the weird feeling in your throat, finding it hard to get these words out for some reason. And then . . . when you were sure the silence had begun to eat at your flesh, you opened your mouth to voice your thoughts. “What if . . . what if I don’t love badminton anymore?” you mumbled, your voice nearly inaudible as you heard your words echo in your head again and again. But just like Pandora’s box, once they were spoken, you couldn’t shove them back down. Your words just kept flowing. “I mean . . . I’m—I’m twenty-five years old. All I’ve ever known is badminton. I ruined my life for it. I wasted three years trying to get it back and . . . and . . . and what if I did it for nothing? I wasted my entire life trying to be the best at something that I don’t even like anymore. What am I supposed to do if—if I don’t want it anymore?”
There.
Right there.
There was the truth you’d been hiding from for so long, and it was laid out in front of you, staring back at you.
What if you had wasted your entire life trying to be the best at something you didn’t even like anymore?
It wasn’t even like you wanted an answer from him either. You just needed to say it. You just needed to admit that perhaps you and Jungkook were more similar than either of you had ever thought. 
And did that . . . did that give you relief? To be understood in this way?
“I just—“ you blurted out, still trapped inside your head— “It’s like you said. I just . . . maybe I just want to go home. I don’t . . . I don’t want to go to the Olympics or—or anything. I don’t want to be who I was. I just . . . I don’t know if I care to be . . . that anymore.”
A beat of—wait—no, unlike you thought, no silence entered your space. No, instead, Jungkook didn’t miss a beat. “Oh, baby—” he sighed, his voice like honey moments before you felt a warm hand cup your cheek— “you haven’t changed one bit either. Don’t you know? Violet, roses are red, not blue.” Your eyes met. His filled with understanding, while yours stained in shock. And then . . . then he tapped his thumb against the corner of your mouth, and offered up a small smile. “Where’s your smile? Hmm?”
Instantly, you sucked in a sharp breath as your eyes fluttered ever so slightly, taken off guard by his words. You wet your lips, trying to form any kind of sentence, but nothing ever came. Until you realized something . . . this feeling . . . it wasn’t something you were used to . . . but it was something you’d heard of . . . and it was . . . soft.
You’d never held something like that. You’d never owned something like that either. You’d never been it. You’d always just been machine parts and badminton plays. Strategies upon strategies. Always thinking and thinking and thinking and never just . . . being . . . feeling . . .
Until . . . 
. . . until him.
And you had no idea how to handle that.
“I’m so scared,” you heard yourself whisper before you realized it was you who was speaking.
Jungkook furrowed his brows as his eyes trailed across your face before he wiped his thumb across your cheek, then dropped his hand to yours. Only then did you realize you had been crying. Not sobbing or anything close, but a few tears had slipped past, and there he was again wiping them away like it was normal; like it was OK.
“Why are you scared?” he questioned softly as he squeezed your hand.
“Because,” you muttered out with a confused shrug. Hell, you didn’t even really know. You just knew . . . you just knew that: “I’m only still here . . . on this team . . . because of you. I think . . . I think what I like about badminton is . . . you. You’ve made it worth something when it’d lost all meaning to me. And . . . and . . . I think what scares me the most is that . . . is that you’ve made me . . . soft . . . and I can’t tell if I hate that or if I . . . if I’m grateful.” Quickly, you wet your chapped lips. “I’ve had good things in my life. I’ve had success and victory and fame . . . but it all felt like it came with a price. You know? Win a competition and you feel great but what about the next one? It was always just a constant race . . . but being around you . . . it doesn’t feel like I have to win anything. I feel softer and—and it doesn’t even come with a catch. It’s free.” Your eyes searched his. “Am I even allowed to have something like that when I should be obsessing over winning this championship?”
Jungkook leaned closer, taking your hand into both of his as he held it close to his chest similar to how you’d hold a teddy when you were a child. And then . . . he spoke, and you couldn’t believe your ears, wondering if this was the same man you knew when you were young. “Have all of me,” he murmured, his eyes never leaving yours as if he wanted you to know he meant this within his soul. “Take my bones and build yourself a home. They’re worn, sure, but I like to think they’re pretty sturdy . . . so . . . take them.” His eyes searched yours deeper. “Take all of me if you have to. Take all of me . . . ”
Blinking slowly, you shot him a look, a small, shocked smile creeping onto your face as you let a sliver of a laugh out before you knew it. “That’s disgusting,” you scolded him, shaking your head at his words, but you couldn’t help but find some sentiment in them. Maybe it was the morbidity to you, but no one had ever said such things to you . . . and you found yourself holding these words close to your chest just as Jungkook held your hand close to his.
He smiled back, too. “Good. I knew it’d make you laugh,” he murmured softly, and you knew this, too. It was him after all. He’d do anything to get a laugh out of you, and you began to realize that it had always been that way. (Perhaps you should’ve spent your childhood laughing more than scowling at him.) But it seemed he didn’t mind as he began to rub his thumb back and forth against your knuckles, his smile slowly fading into a solemn expression. And then: “You asked me to haunt you, but you’re the one who haunts me.”
You swallowed hard.
You’re the one who haunts me.
Oh . . . 
And then you began to wonder: was Jimin right? He loved you, he had told you. And suddenly, you realized that if this were still true . . . it didn’t bother you. You’d accept it even. But what did that mean for you?
You swallowed hard once again.
“You said I make you feel real again,” he continued on, making you forget your own thoughts as you watched his head tilt to the side in thought, ever so slightly. “I’ve thought about it. I don’t want to haunt you. I don’t want to poison your softness. I want to make you keep feeling real and soft and . . . you. And . . . and well . . . you make me want to be real again. You–you make me want to be a person, to be something, to make something of the person I am. I don’t want to end up like your King Weir—”
“Lear,” you felt yourself whisper so quietly you almost didn’t hear it. All you could do was stare at him and stare and stare and . . . 
“I don’t want to be him,” Jungkook restated. A small pause followed as those warm brown eyes you’d come to be fond of searched yours like you were the only two people left on the planet. “I don’t want to be nothing . . . and you’ve reminded me of that.” Wetting his lips, he reached for your other hand, now holding both your hands in his, his thumbs running across your knuckles.  “So I was wondering—” he maintained eye contact, while he gave a quick squeeze to your hands— “if maybe instead . . . well . . . I want you to help me live . . . no haunting necessary.”
I want you to help me live.
It echoed in your ears.
I want you to help me live.
I want you to help me live.
I want you to—
Did he know that he’d given you a whole new reason to keep living? Did he know that when you thought of him, you realized you had another reason to live? Didn’t he realize that it was him? That caring for him had made you a better person?
But Jungkook took your silence as a sign of rejection, so before you could slap yourself up the side of the head, he nearly retreated, quickly muttering out an apology for being . . . weird. Only, this was now and not then, and you were you, and well, you quickly reached for his hands, pulling them into your lap. His eyes followed your movements, clearly taken off guard, but you didn’t let him dwell on it too long.
“How about—” you began, running your thumb across the tattoos dotting his fingers— “let’s take care of each other?”
Jungkook blinked once. Then twice. Then . . . then his brows twitched in longing? Understanding? Or . . . oh what was that word?
Whatever.
It didn’t matter. What mattered was his answer. And you already knew it before you’d spoken those words. 
OK, he nodded. 
OK, he smiled. 
OK, your eyes seemed to glisten back.
OK.
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There was a time in your life, where every night you’d have the same nightmare. Over and over again, you’d be trapped in this room with no windows, no doors, just darkness. And in the middle of the room would be you, or rather a version of you, strapped to a chair, with flames slowly licking up your legs, scorching your skin. But you wouldn’t feel any pain, because it wasn’t actually you. Sure, it looked like you, but . . . you were on the other side of the room, watching with wide eyes as you heard yourself scream and beg to be released from the shackles. 
The flames wouldn’t touch you there. They were around, yes. They were burning holes into your clothes, yes, but you couldn’t feel it. All you could do was sit and watch as this variant of yourself burned alive right before your eyes.
And as if watching yourself be scorched alive wasn’t bad enough, there would be this point in the dream where you, no, she, no . . . it . . . would speak to you. Through the flames, it would hiss and whisper that it was your fault. 
It was your fault, and you’d know what it meant. 
But, No! you’d scream back. Because, no, no, no, this couldn’t be your fault. You couldn’t have been the one to ruin yourself. That would just be so, so, so . . . well . . . it would be too much.
(You knew now that it was just one big accident. Sure, trying not to blame yourself for it now was hard, but you’d learned in the past few months. It hadn’t been your fault. It hadn’t been his either.)
But back then . . . back then the incident loomed over your shoulder like a ghost.
You were getting ahead of yourself again, but . . . but the dream, no . . . the nightmare always started and ended the same. You stuck in a burning room, left to watch yourself burn and burn and burn as you, she, it, whatever (!) screamed and screamed, its voice growing louder with each, it was your fault!
And with the last shift of blame, the fire would finally set in. The red, hot flames that had left blisters and boils on your skin would begin to itch, then sting, and then consume you until all you felt was pain, pain, pain.
Then it would be your screams which filled the room.
Only when the pain would begin to shift, your back ripping with agony as this pair of . . . wings (?) split from the wounds, would you think you’d been saved. Because just as those wings had appeared, on the other side of the room, so had a door. And perhaps, perhaps then you could escape the burning room; fly out of there and save yourself. 
That was always your first thought: survive, and you would always head for the door without a second thought. It was only when you’d hear the other you’s screams that this immense amount of guilt would hit you, because there you were, able to save yourself but not without leaving a piece of you behind to burn to ash. 
. . . You never turned around to give yourself one last glance either. Instead, you always counted to three before you stepped off from the ledge, trusting that what was behind the bright light coming from the door would surely save you. And every time as you realized you were falling and falling, the heat would leave your senses and all you’d be able to feel was wind in your hair and the smell of salt water. You were no longer in the burning room. You were free.
With the opening of your eyes, you would be in the sky, your wings carrying you. And for a moment, you would believe that you truly were free; free from the incident, free from your guilt, free from everything.
Until the wind no longer felt refreshing and the vague smell of burning wood could be sensed; until you finally glanced back at what you had left behind, only to realize the wings you had been gifted were not made of feathers and bone at all, but rather wax, and under the Sun’s embrace . . . they had begun to melt . . . 
You’d spare yourself the details of stating what happened next, but the story was simple. Think Icarus. Just like Icarus, every time, your wings would melt and you’d hit the sea below you, shortly drowning but never dying. No, every time you’d get a bit closer to death . . . but you’d wake up just before you succumbed to it.
And every time you’d wake in a fright, sweat coating your body as you panted and panted, trying to figure out if you could still feel the fire on your skin or the water in your lungs. And every time you’d wake wondering if that was why you craved the fire so viscerally; if that was why you felt like you were drowning from time to time.
But . . . that dream, that nightmare . . . well . . . you hadn’t had it for a couple weeks or maybe months (?) now. It used to be something that you just considered part of your routine; something that you just had to deal with. But ever since you and Jungkook had begun this little thing you guys had going on where you’d sleep next to each other almost every night, you hadn’t been having any dreams. 
You didn’t quite understand it. You just knew that the nightmares had stopped . . . and maybe you had him to thank for that (just a little bit).
Slowly, you brought yourself out of your mind, planting yourself in reality once again as you were reminded that you and Jungkook had gone back to his hotel room after you got in a few hours practice after well . . . after your little . . . mishap. You’d showered and washed your hair, brushed your teeth, and blah blah blah. You were already tucked into bed, waiting for Jungkook to finish up brushing his teeth so the two of you could watch something to fall asleep to. (He was slow . . . of course (brushing his teeth while listening to a playlist at max volume)). And you, you were beginning to doze off, lost in your mind as you thought of the peaceful sleep you had awaiting you (partially thanks to him yeah (!) you knew . . . whatever).
Still, you couldn’t help but roll over in bed, your eyes quickly catching a glimpse of him in the mirror just outside the bathroom. And well, you couldn’t help but laugh just a little as you watched him dance to the music playing from his phone, haphazardly brushing his teeth along to the beat. (You couldn’t wait until he hopped into bed next to you and you could finally get close enough to feel his heartbeat against your cheek (not that you would admit that out loud. . . right?)).
“I can see your asscrack,” you called out across the room, laughing slightly because duh you were lying but you couldn’t help but tease him. (Plus . . . maybe a part of you missed him being beside you (you wanted him to hurry up, could you blame yourself?!).)
“Nuh-uh—” he gurgled out through the copious amount of toothpaste in his mouth— “not falling for that again. You’re full of shit.”
You couldn’t help but laugh again, falling back against the bed, the back of your head now laying in the center of the pillow. One, two, three, you counted the swirls in the ceiling. It was literally like watching paint dry having to entertain yourself until he was done. It was an odd thing, wasn’t it? Liking someone’s company that much?
God . . . what had you turned into?
“Do you sleep with your eyes open?” you heard Jungkook ask from beside you just as the bed dipped and he crawled under the covers, no shirt and only in his boxers (as usual).
Ignoring the pitter-patter of your heart, you turned to face him, your eyes immediately trailing across his features. “You tell me,” you hummed, quickly rolling onto your side so your entire body was facing him.
“Probably,” he mumbled as he settled into the bed, propping up the pillow to support his head. “Dunno though. I try not to look at you too much.”
Your jaw dropped. Then a scoff. And you didn’t waste any time, reaching forward to twist his nipple . . . hard.
Instantly, he caved in on himself, clutching his chest as he whined, “Ow. Not cool, baby.”
You threatened to do it again, your hand outstretched.
But he waved a metaphorical white flag in surrender. “OK. OK. I’m kidding. I’m kidding,” he all but begged, twisting away from you.
Falling back against the bed once again, you avoided his eyes. “That’s what I thought,” you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest as you faked your displeasure with him. 
Jungkook only found this amusing, soothing a hand over his chest before he shifted closer to you, his tattooed arm thrown over your waist as he pulled you into him. It took him no time to bury his face into the crook of your neck, nuzzling his nose just under your sweet spot. “Mmm, don’t be mad,” he mumbled against your skin, slowly kissing his way up to your ear. “You really are the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” A kiss to your cheek. Then a squeeze to your side as he brought you closer and closer and closer until you were sure the two of you were intertwined. “You always have been, you know?”
Slowly, as confusion and shock twisted onto your features, you turned your head so you were nose to nose. “Don’t be silly,” you whispered as one of your hands found its way into his long hair. “I know you were kidding, you don’t have to overkill it.”
Listen, listen, listen . . . you knew you weren’t god awful, but every girl feels like they’re not good enough. It’s built into us, so sometimes it comes as a shock when someone is so . . . so forward. It wasn’t like people just went around saying ‘oh, you’re the prettiest girl ever duh!’ like duh! Obviously! So . . . 
But Jungkook always managed to surprise you. Always.
And just as you were about to close your eyes, thinking this was over and the two of you were going to actually get some sleep, he surprised you once more. “You know . . . “ he began, his voice low and quiet, almost as if he were fighting with himself to say his next words . . . “I spent the entirety of the sixth grade learning every flower I could just so I’d have something to tease you about,.”
“What?” you all but snorted as you threw your leg over his hip. “That’s insane.”
“Well, I had to get your attention somehow,” he mused, while his hand had begun to trace letters or random doodles on your back.
Scrunching your brows together, you asked, “What are you talking about?”
“You’re so dense. Pretty, but—” he tapped a finger to your forehead— “hollow.”
Instantly, you shot him a look. “You wanna talk?”
He only laughed.
A beat of warm silence. You traced his bottom lip with your thumb, toying with the piercing. He nipped at your thumb. Another beat. He pressed a kiss to your thumb. One more beat, then . . . 
“I had a crush on you, idiot,” he confessed against your thumb in the dead of night.
This time you actually did snort, moving your thumb to rest on his chin. “What? I was all braces and forehead acne,” you went on, remembering who you were and how you were and all the little things that you wished had been different about yourself back then. “A crush, JK? Be serious.”
“Hey, hey, I’m not a liar,” he quickly rushed over, humorously defending his honor. “I had a crush on you. Seriously. Why do you think I tried to impress you all the time.”
Your smile nearly faded. (And Jimin’s words revisited you (you pushed them away).)
He wasn’t kidding.
But . . . 
“Impress me? You spent our entire childhood showing off how much better you were at everything than I was,” you said, confusion and everything in between laced in your words. Because, truly, what? “That was like our . . . thing as much as it disgusts me to admit.”
His brows raised ever so slightly. “What?”
Oh no.
No, he wasn’t kidding. He actually did have a crush on you. But that meant . . . that meant the whole reason you had hated him growing up was over . . . nothing. He had never meant to start anything. He was just . . . he was trying to impress you and not . . . one-up you. 
He wanted you to like him back . . .
So then you had—oh, no!
“Wait,” you cut your own thoughts off with a gasp. “Oh my fucking god, are you serious? Kook, I thought you were just trying to be an asshole.”
Jungkook pulled back. “No, what the—” his words died on his tongue as it all dawned on him. “Is that why you thought I hated you?”
“Yes! Obviously!”
“Oh, shit . . . “
And then . . . as if this couldn’t get any more on-brand for the two of you, Jungkook had begun to laugh. Quietly at first, then his hand was slapping against his face as he cackled, his shoulders even so much as shaking. He was full-on laughing. Laughing.
“Why are you laughing?” you exclaimed, squeezing his shoulder
“Because! You hated my guts for like fifteen years and it’s all because you took my sixth-grade flirting as an insult!” he bursted out through small laughs. “You—” he embraced you, his hand cupping your cheek as his eyes searched yours— “are something else.”
“Well . . . it’s technically your fault,” you responded with a quick click of your tongue.
His brows twitched upward. “Oh, is it technically my fault?” he asked while trying to fight the half-grin tipping onto his lips.
“Obviously.”
“Mmm,” he hummed, thinking for only a second before: “At least you’re pretty.”
In response, your mouth fell open slightly. “I will bite the tip of your penis off.”
“Mmm, kinky,” he remarked as he nudged your nose with his.
Scrunching your nose, you tsked, “Ew.”
“Come on, baby,” Jungkook mockingly whined, pouting as much as he possibly could. “No cold shoulder. Gives me the chills.”
But you were having too much fun with this to give it up now. “You had a crush on me,” you all but gagged as you turned your nose up (once again ignoring Jimin’s words . . . ). “Disgusting.”
“Is it?” he questioned in amusement, moments before his lips were on your exposed jaw.
“Mmm.”
Jungkook gently bit your cheek. “I think you’re the one with the crush,” he mused, his lips trailing down to your neck again, this time hovering just over your sweet spot.
“Oh, please,” you scoffed, trying your absolute hardest not to show how affected you were by just his lips grazing your skin. But one gentle kiss to your sweet spot, and you could feel your heart skyrocket to your throat as you all but choked in a breath. It was just that . . . he had this effect on you. (Fuck, did he ever . . . )
“Begging now, are you?” he remarked before leaving another kiss here and then there and the oh, you guessed it, just on the corner of your mouth but not on your lips, of course.
And all you could do was admit you were weak when it came to him, and just give in. Which was, of course, what you did as a soft groan escaped your lips and you turned your head to face him once again. “Would you get over your ego and kiss me?” you deadpanned, all but pouting at him.
That almost got him immediately. His eyes flicked to your lips, then your eyes, then to your lips once again before one of those cocky grins plastered across his face. “Yes, ma’am,” he whispered, his voice like silk.
That was the last response you received before his lips grazed yours. Gentle at first was his touch, like a feather on skin, but as he nudged your nose with his, he finally closed the space between you two, pressing his lips against yours in a soft kiss. You leaned closer, pleasantly sighing into the kiss as you nipped at his bottom lip. A grin tipped onto his face before he dipped in for more, running his tongue along the crease of your lips. You complied quickly, hands tangling in his long, dark hair as you pulled him closer and melded his tongue with yours. He inhaled sharply through his nose as his grip tightened on you instantly, his hand sliding up your thigh, squeezing your hip before it snuck under the hem of your shirt (or rather his old college badminton tee that he had grown out of by now (which meant it was yours by default . . . duh).
A soft mix between a gasp and a quiet moan escaped your lips when you felt the coolness of his hand graze the swell of your breast, palming it. He grinned into the kiss, circling his thumb around your nipple, knowing damn well that it would get to you and have your skin blazing in seconds. 
That was just the thing—he knew how your body worked. More . . . he knew how you worked and perhaps that was why he had figured out how to pleasure you.
Still, you tugged on his hair in annoyance, huffing slightly and pouting perhaps just a tad, which you knew he found endearing. That was the thing, too . . . you knew how he worked as well. He snickered against your lips, proving your thoughts to yourself just moments before he pulled you closer and began sucking on your bottom lip as his thumb pressed down on your puckered nipple, tweaking the bud. You hummed softly in response, grinding your underwear-clothed core against his muscular thigh.
He stilled under your touch for a mere second before his hands gripped your waist as he pulled you down onto his thigh, moving with you while you grinded against him. “Making a mess, pretty girl,” he murmured against your lips as he moved to lightly kiss your neck. His hand was at your shirt again in an instant, fisting it and pulling it up over your breasts.
“You’re such a guy,” you nearly moaned out, your hands now on his shoulders as his head dipped to your breasts, catching a nipple in his mouth all the while he flexed his thigh against your core. He didn’t stop there either. He softly hummed against your skin as he released your nipple long enough to kiss it just moments before taking it into his mouth again, swirling his tongue around the bud and sucking hard. And you couldn't help it, you jerked against him, throwing your head into the pillow as a loud moan sounded from the back of your throat.
“So you agree—” he mumbled as he still flicked his tongue over and over again over the abused bud— “you like that about me?”
Before you could even answer, his hand had gone from your waist and now tangled in your hair, holding the back of your neck. That was moments before his lips detached from your puckered bud and reattached to your lips. His other hand worked quickly, too, as he slid his thigh out from underneath you and swung your leg over his hip, his hardened length now pressed against your aching core.
“Maybe I do a little,” you whispered with a small grin playing on your puffy lips as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in closer.
He grinned back. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured back, kissing you quickly before you could respond.
And his comment was long forgotten as he grinded his bulge into your heat, stimulating both you and him. It was intoxicating. No, he . . . he was.
He was so intoxicating, you couldn’t help but whine out, “Take them off, please.” Your fingers were at his boxers, tracing the elastic band as you all but whimpered against his lips. You just wanted him, him, him. All of him.
“Eager?” he mused as his thumb dug into your hip. (You knew this was eating at him just as much as it was eating at you. It always did.)
“Please, Kookie. Can’t take it,” you whined further, all but straight-up riding him to scratch the ache inside you. “Need it so bad. Killin’ me.”
“Fuck,” he groaned, and he didn’t waste another second either. “Love you like this.” His own whines filled the air as the two of you struggled to tear off his boxers, your underwear quickly following after as both the undergarments eventually became lost under the covers. But neither of you cared.
It was a quick descent after that. You couldn’t help but grind your core over his hard length, the sound of your wet arousal evident even over the hum of the air conditioner. The two of you never did this. You’d always done foreplay after foreplay after foreplay, finding it thrilling to tease each other, but right now . . . right now all you wanted was him inside you. You wanted him as close as possible, and it seemed he wanted the same, the both of you unable to think or do anything other than grind against each other. 
Only then when you couldn’t take the throb between your legs anymore did he press a single kiss to the corner of your mouth before you felt him slowly enter you, inch by inch sinking into your cunt. Your eyes fluttered closed as your mouth parted and your head tilted back while you basked in the fullness which came along with his cock sliding snugly against your tight walls. Your breath hitched in your throat just as you felt him bottom out, your core taking him all the way until the hilt.
The next second, you were wrapping your legs around him, locking them together in an attempt to get him even deeper. Your eyes fluttered open next, meeting his gaze instantly as he stared down at you with his brows pinched in pleasure and those big, round eyes of his blown out . . . but was this lust that he gazed at you with? His gaze appeared different, almost warmer, almost softer, almost too soft to touch . . . to have . . . to hold. He looked too pretty like this. Definitely too pretty for you to handle.
It didn’t help when the following words out of his mouth were: "You're always so fucking tight.”
And then he began to move, not breaking eye contact once. No, his eyes watched yours as his cock pumped in and out of your wet heat. His breath hit your face, and you could almost feel his heartbeat against your chest, syncing with yours as the two of you stared into what you could only describe as each other’s souls.
It was odd, too, because while whatever this feeling was blooming in your chest scared you, you couldn’t look away. You couldn’t turn from him. You just wanted him, him, him. Always him. You feared that if you did turn away, when you glanced back he wouldn’t be there anymore. And that perhaps scared you more than anything: losing him.
But there he was. He was always right there . . . 
Almost as if he could hear your thoughts, his grasp on you tightened, his cock sinking deliciously deeper if it were even possible. The pressure in your lower stomach was becoming too much as it bloomed and bloomed, twisting and turning in a pleasurable ache. You bit your bottom lip, turning your head to the side as your breathing became more uneven by the second, but not once did you dare look away. No, you watched each and every twitch of his brow, every shaky breath, every flutter of his eyelashes, and you relished in it, soaking it all in. 
It became clear to you that you couldn’t look away even if you tried.
And it seemed neither could he . . . 
"Why are you looking at me like that?" you rasped out, trying to swallow your spit.
Jungkook nudged your nose with his. "Like what?"
You swallowed, this time harder (Jimin’s words revisited you once again). “I can’t say . . . “
His brows twitched this time. “How could I not?”
How could I not? And you knew what he meant, just as he had known what was playing on your mind. How could I not?
And then he was kissing you again, taking you by utter surprise. Sure, the two of you had had sex over and over again and each time felt a little different from the other, but this . . . this was like the beginning yet the present all at once. It was like you could feel all of him in just this kiss; like you could see his past and he could see yours and neither of you had thought about running once. 
It was soft. So was his hand as he brushed through your hair as he kissed you, tracing your hairline, your cheek, your jaw, then your neck as if he were trying to map out your features. 
(You couldn’t help but melt under his touch.)
Why was his kiss always the softest thing you had ever known?
Then . . . amidst your soft moans and carnal sounds, he pulled back, his eyes finding yours again. He glanced between the two of you where your bodies met, brows rising in marvel as he released a small sigh before rolling his hips against yours again and again. And then . . . then, he grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers together as his gaze met yours once again and he whispered so quietly, almost too quiet you wouldn’t have heard it if you hadn’t been so close, “I don’t even know where you end and I begin.”
And you knew instantly he didn’t just mean where your body met his. No, this was deeper, and you realized he could feel that this time was different, too.
Swallowing hard, you fluttered your eyes in almost a state of shock as you stayed silent. But you didn’t need to speak. No, you took his words, and you held them close, and then you were holding him. Take my bones and build yourself a home, he’d told you, but no, no, you wouldn’t put him through that. He could take yours. He could take all of you. You would give yourself to him.
Fuck, you would give all of yourself to him. Only him. Him, him, him.
“Wanna see your face, baby,” he murmured as he brushed your hair out of your flushed face. “Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. My pretty girl.”
And you knew that was it.
With one final kiss, you let him know all this, allowing him to take the lead once more. Everything pulsed as he picked up a sensual pace, hitting your sweet spot over and over again as his thumb snuck between your legs, skillfully working against your swollen clit while you chased the coil. It tightened and tightened, rings of pleasure hissing in your ears. His thumb quickened its pace, and then the coil snapped, your release crashing over you. All you could do was surrender to it, tilting your head back into the pillow as your hips raised while your hands squeezed his toned arms. All the while, Jungkook continued the long drags of his cock against your walls, dragging out your orgasm for as long as he could.
“Wanna stay like this,” he confessed, his thrusts growing slower and slower, unsteadier and unsteadier as he nearly whimpered into your neck. “Love this so fuckin’ much. Being with you—fuck. You make me feel so good, baby. So good.”
“I’d let you,” you mumbled against the shell of his ear, your voice a little too hoarse as you were still coming down from your high. “I’d let you do . . . all the time . . . I want—” you were delirious at this point and you knew it, too— “Want you always.”
Your words barely even registered in your brain as pleasure and that blooming feeling in your chest consumed you. It wasn’t long before you found yourself lifting his head so your lips could slot against his. And he graciously accepted your offer, consuming you just as the feeling had done.
The two of you wasted no time in escalating from gentle kissing, allowing you to further calm down from your high before your cunt was throbbing once more. And . . . before his cock had begun to feel too fucking hard inside you, nearly twitching for release as it begged for your addictive touch. 
You let yourself get wrapped up in him for a little longer, too, never wanting to stop. Your hands were on him again as you tangled your fingers in his hair and pulled. This time a loud, deep groan came from his lips, and you knew you had him. He gave another groan of submission when you tugged again, his thrusts barely cohesive now. He was close, and you reveled in this, wishing to bring him to ecstasy. With that thought on your mind, you devilishly reached over his muscular ass, fingers quickly finding his perineum and pressing into it, massaging the sensitive spot.
He was sheathed deeper inside you before either of you could breathe, the two of you too wrapped up in each other to move positions. You just wanted to feel each other again and again and again, because for some reason . . . this time was different.
Different and yet all the same. That was how it had always been with Jungkook.
And you couldn’t quite put a word to the feeling, until . . . 
“Will you cum inside me?” you whispered, your voice hoarse as you omitted a soft moan under your breath. “Please. I need more.” Swallowing hard, you finally met his gaze, and instantly, you couldn’t look away. There was just . . . something . . . there. “I need you.” Your brows furrowed as you soaked in your own words while you searched his eyes. 
Slowly, with another roll of his hips, he sank lower, his abdomen grazing against yours so he could be close enough to brush his lips with yours but not that close to kiss you. But you . . . you couldn’t be without his touch, and found yourself tilting your head to press your lips against his, finally finding that something you had been searching for in his eyes. 
And then . . . then it hit you.
“I need you,” you heard yourself whisper before you knew the words had left your mouth. “I need you, Koo.”
I need you, you’d whispered, and you began to realize . . . you knew what you felt for him wasn’t what you’d feel for a friend. Because you did need him . . . in more ways than you’d like to admit.
And that scared the shit out of you.
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taglist:
@hrts4kook , @taehyungs-chopsticks , @loomipee , @st3ft0n3s , @callmenada , @neg-l3ct , @dawn33 , @illegurlbangtan , @jeonsdetails , @rihabaxl , @yoongipost , @jjk1iscoming , @miumiugurl , @sadgirlroo , @lucwithbangtan , @iamsisuu , @shanelleeex , @beonim , @sherlynxx , @fairy1919 , @purplewhales , @bloopkook , @ggukcanim , @bloodline1632 , @jungkooksseuphoria , @tea4sykes , @mugiwaraelly , @darkuni63 , @jalexad , @lpgirl2324 , @fairy-jaykay , @h0tvillainap0logist , @stuffy16 , @keniicastillo , @yoongukie-ff , @seesawe , @chocolatesublimesoul , @yopjm , @jeonlovescoffee , @xmirvamx , @jk-190811 , @percyjacksonlovesannabethchase , @vminkookgf , @werxyz , @tornparts , @aprilspring , @kswr1d , @jimilter , @02010802 , @sunsetnamjin​ , @lonekittycat , @moonchild1 , @hanamgi , @yoongslast , @heronstairsxd @pointofviewyugyeom
508 notes · View notes
theemporium · 6 months
Note
https://www.tumblr.com/theemporium/732996365739819008/httpspbstwimgcommediaf-cfpsex0aa8a5hformat
PLEASEEE can we have the smallest of blurbs/thots on this, them cuddling into the reader because they’re wee pups after all
-🥀
I KNEW I HAD TO AS WELL
.
You were aware that the forecast said it would rain, but you didn’t realise it would be a full fucking thunderstorm.
You had been huddled in the Red Bull garage when the weather took a dramatic turn for the worse. First, there were just a few radios here and there about some rain hitting the track. Seconds later, a massive dark cloud was covering the track, the sun was gone and the conditions were far too dangerous to finish the end of qualifying. 
You were honestly just happy both your boys were safe as they made their way into the pits, even prouder when you realised this meant they would be starting on the front row together. But then the thunder started and a part of you froze. 
Thunderstorms were never a problem for you. If anything, you enjoyed them. The rain pattering against the window, the distant sound of thunder claps in the air with strikes of lightning as you played some calming music. Being cuddled up in bed, maybe even a book in hand with a warm drink by your side.
But your boys never thought the same. 
You had began moving before you could even process it, but the team wouldn’t let you leave the safety of the garages just yet, which left you watching the interview on one of the screens. You could see it on their faces, even if they tried to hide it. You could see them trying to laugh it off and continue with the questions. You could see the way their bodies flinched, the way they covered their ears, the way they gravitated towards each other for safety. It broke your heart to see because you knew exactly how they were during thunderstorms.
The second they were given the go ahead, the boys were heading straight back to their drivers’ rooms to leave for the hotel as soon as they could. But it was short-lived when both boys barreled into Max’s driver room, Charles rushing towards you before you could even blink. 
A low whine left him as he wound his arms around your waist, tugging you close and burying his face into the crook of your neck as another distant thunderclap echoed outside. 
“I know,” you murmured, holding onto him tightly as your eyes caught Max’s—who you knew was trying to put on a brave face. “Let’s head back to the hotel, okay? Everything is gonna be fine.” 
Both boys were twitchy the whole ride over. All three of you were sitting in the back of the car, with you pressed between both boys as they tried to distract themselves. You could feel the anxiety rolling off them, you could feel the way their bodies tensed and the way their hands tightened on your thighs. You knew they just wanted to be alone and far away from the thunder. 
The second the hotel room door locking sounded through the suite, you heard the distinct sound of clothes ripping before two massive, fluffy beasts were approaching you. Another clap of thunder rendered through the air and both boys let out pitiful whines, cowering slightly as they looked up at you with big eyes.
“My poor boys,” you cooed softly as you reached out to run your hands over the heads, scratching behind their ears until both wolves were nosing at your legs. “C’mon, we’ll do what we do when we’re home.”
And it was a little more squished than the bed you shared at home, but it did the job just fine. You had both wolves squashing you between them, their heads resting on your stomach with the duvet over them. It was a trick you read online with dogs and fireworks, but it seemed to work perfectly with your werewolf boyfriends.
“You both need to eat something soon,” you told them when you felt one of them—probably Charles, if you knew your boys well—pushing the fabric of your shirt up until he could rest his head on your bare stomach. “And I would rather not scare hotel staff with two massive dogs that are technically undisclosed.”
Max let out a huff against your thigh.
“Don’t be a puppy,” you snorted as your fingers threaded through his fur. “Just one meal and then you can transform back. I would like at least thirty minutes with my boys to tell you how proud I am of both of you for getting the front row.”
Charles let out a loving purr as he nuzzled himself further into you.
“Yeah, I love you too.”
.
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beary-rambles · 4 days
Text
Bound by blood
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summary: Its the morning after your unspoken confessions with jacaerys. And you are faced with the aftermath of your actions.
r.q: Ok 1. Your writing is so good 2. I need a part 2 to Jacaerys x alicentdaughter!reader where reader stays with Jacaerys joining team black and we need tk get everyone's reaction to alicent daughter!reader staying like
w.c: 2.1k
c.w: implied smut, alternative timeline, dialogue heavy, nail biter jacaerys, aemond appearance, fluff, even though they are now lovers they still argue lmaooo, not proofread, happy ending!
a.n: heavily requested im so sorry this took awhile and it might not be what people wanted but i hope you all enjoy !! <3
part one part three (backstory) (soon) masterlist
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Your eyes flutter open and you rubbing your hand to cover your eyes as the bright shining sun begins to shine rays down on you. You look over at the spot next to you expecting to see jacaerys laying next to you but instead you reach over and feel the cold spot next to you. He must have been up for a long time.
A pit forms in your stomach maybe preparing yourself to turn over and see a cup of moon tea sitting on the bedside table but when you’re instead greeted by a folded piece of paper and a cup of water with some fruits.
‘I'm sorry that i will not be here when you awake my love, i had some things i must discuss with my mother. Do not rush yourself but once you're ready you should make your way to the main hall so we can speak.
with all my love, jacaerys’
you sit up, chugging down the cup of water and taking a few bites of the fruit before sliding off the bed, eyeing the red splotches of blood pooling around where you had been laying leaving some dried blood on your thighs. You needed a bath. As if they could read your mind a maid walked in and you jumped.
“i am so sorry for startling you princess.” with a bow of her head you relax and bring the blanket to wrap around yourself suddenly feeling very embarrassed that she saw you like this. An unmarried woman who had clearly been sullied.
“The princess had requested i come here and run you a bath my lady” The princess? your face heats in embarrassment as you can only nod you head. He had told her, of course he would, especially after last night he seemed very keen on you staying here with him.
The only you could think about as you get scrubbed down was the slight ache between you legs and your mother. You wondered how she would react to all this, what was going to happen when you don't return home, or maybe you do but come back? all of your stuff is in the keep but its nothing of true value to you you suppose, everything that matters to you is here because all that truly matters to you is jacaerys.
You worry what your family will think if you don't return home, maybe that they killed you or kidnapped you. Will they send people here to come retrieve you? You wonder what jacaerys is doing right now, is he considering the same things you are?
You're shocked to be presented with a nice black dress instead of your older green one, you stare at your old dress on laying on the ground. You remember when she had gifted it to you, she had said it was hand made for you made in the house color. You remember her face and how she smiled at you when you spun around to show it to her and how she told you how gorgeous you looked. you look back at the maid who was looking at you expectantly and you apologize allowing her to dress you. You cant get hung up on these things, especially now that you’ve chosen to stay it does break your heart a bit to think about the fact that your last conversation with your mother was so short.
You try to suppress your anxiety as you are led towards the main hall where jacaerys had asked you to met him. when you get closer you can hear heavy discussions, you try to softly open the door but once you’re in the room the door closes so loudly behind you you hiss. Dreadfully turning around to see the room full of not only rhaenyra daemon and her children but the velaryon’s and many a council man.
“Good afternoon.” Everyone nods their head at you giving you a good afternoon in return. You don't notice him until he's standing right in front of you, “jacaerys,,”He lifts up your hands and presses a kiss against your lips. “Did you rest well?” You nod and he smiles at you, his hand reaching into his pocket and pulling out a necklace, reaching head hands behind your back to clip it on you.
You grab it in your hands and notice its a black metal sigil of house Targaryen. You look at him and he's just smiling at you, “You like it?” You hum and nod your head, he grips your hand and leads you towards the table where everyone had been standing around watching you. Your face heats when you notice rhaenyra’s happy face and daemons smirk.
“Now that the princess is here might we address the issue at hand?”
“where are we to go from here?”
Jacaerys takes a step closer to the table keeping one of his hands on your back “as i said we will be married tonight-”
You flashes back to last night where he had mentioned over and over again with shake breaths how he would marry you and how he would love to be your husband. You look down at the ground as you flush.
“Not to rain on your parade my prince but i have to be the one to ask it, how do we know the princess is to be trusted?” His hands slam on the table and he leans forward glaring daggers at the lord, “You will not accuse my wife of anything-” You place your hand on his back, “please do not get angry on my behalf Jace its fine. Besides there's something i should bring up.”
Everyone in the rooms attention turns to you, “I think it is best if i return to the keep.” Jacaerys whips towards you with an alarmed look, “what-” “i believe it is best if i inform my family i am staying here in person.” “That is a horrible idea they are animals!” “And you think they would act any better lest they believe me kidnapped?!” “You could send them a letter.” “a letter that you could easily have forced me to write they need to see and hear me say it.” “you are acting irrationally.” “I am acting irrationally?!?! for fearing they shall send their bannermen here to storm dragonstone putting everyone in danger?!”
“do they even like each other?” lucerys whispers to rhaena who just shrugs, baela stands with her arms crossed staring at the pair who are glaring daggers at one another, “they are angry because they care about each other.”
“and you would rather risk your own life?” “it is the best option-” “you are a ridiculous women.” “and you are nothing more than a fool if you believe you are right!”
“and what if they believe you are forced into saying it?” daemon cuts into you and jacaerys argument. You take a deep breath and step away from jacaerys, “They shall believe me, i am family.”
You look at jacaerys who has begun biting on one of his nails with a far away look. You grab both his hands and lace them with yours. “you must realize i am not asking for your permission.” he sighs and rests his forehead against yours with his eyes closed. “You must not leave me.” You can feel his heartbeat in the palm on his hand, beating erratically against his skin. He is afraid. Of not only you not returning back to him because you were forced to stay in the keep but because he is afraid you will not returned because you will be slayed.
“i will return to you i promise.” He is silent for awhile, thinking it over before he nods and takes a step away from you without a word. You turn your attention back to everyone else in the room trying your best to suppress your embarrassment as they give you sly looks.
“I do however agree with my son i worry for your safety should you return to the keep, they are not kind people.”
“I thank you for your worries my queen but unlike the rest of you they consider me their own flesh and blood. the worst that would happen to me is a few bumps and scratches i swear this. As i had been saying it is best if i were to return as soon as possible as i was even supposed to return last night. I am surprised they have not sent anyone to see me.” You know your mother must be worried sick and it leaves a pit your throat that you swallow down to your stomach. You cant think about those things right now.
As if on cue you hear a loud dragon roar from out side and you whip your head around to look out the window. “Vhagar.” “Aemond.” Jacaerys spits out next to you his face angry.
“I should go speak with him.” “I shall come with you.” “absolutely not. I will not have him harm you jacaerys. You remember what he did to you Jace.” You hand running lightly across the cheek where he had been struck.
“I shall go.” “I'm sorry prince daemon but i fear you are the worst option.”
You instead turn to the most familiar face in the room, “ser erryk will you accompany me?” As he was your sworn protector before he had left he nods, “Of course princess.”
A few more exchanges are spent between you and the others in the room, exchanging a kiss with jacaerys before you exit erryk quickly following behind you. Rhaenyra walks over to jacaerys and places her hand on his shoulder. “She will be fine sweetheart. You should not worry.” She rubs his back as he runs his hands down his face. “I hope you are right my queen.” She pinches his back lightly and smiles at him. “You love her.”
“More than anything.”
The grip you have on the fabric in your hand is tight as you quickly make your way down the bridge while aemond gets off vhagar. “Sister I am shocked to see you unharmed.”
“Aemond.” He stares at you with a curious look in his eye. “I had told mother the storm must have kept you held up but she was insistent i come and see you myself. She’s been worried sick.”
“extend my apologies too her.” He raises an eyebrow and looks you up and down. Once you two lock eyes and you stare at him not saying a single word. He seems to catch what you are saying and scoffs. “You are a fool.”
You shake your head at him, “They would not want me home anyway. For i have been tarnished and tainted by one you claim to be a bastard.” He freezes and you catch it even if its for a split second. His eye twitches. He says nothing just stares at you for a long moment. “I thought you were better than this. That you would get over whatever fascination you had with him. But it seems i was wrong.”
“extend my well wishes to sister and mother.” You toss your green dress towards him and he catches it. eyeing it before he looks back up at you. “I should kill you where you stand.” He makes no move to make good on his word, you doubt he fears ser erryk taking a step closer with his hand on his sword. “You do not wish to kill me brother. For there is no worse fate than being a Kinslayer.” Without even sparing another glance at you he climbs on vhagars back and flies off. You do not move from where you stand until he leaves you sight in the sky. a bittersweet feeling filling you stomach knowing it was the last time you would probably see him.
You do not notice you are even crying until ser erryk is crouched in front of you using his cape to wipe your face. “It is for the best princess.” “was it hard to leave your brother ser erryk?” he pauses for a moment, deep in thought before he nods. “It was. but i know it was for the best. You should feel the same.”
You rush back inside and are quickly greeted by jacaerys who was pacing anxiously by the doors his nail in his mouth but he quickly springs into action wrapping his arms around you tightly. burying his head in your neck as he lets out a sigh of relief. “do not worry my love. nothing will separate us.” and it is the truth. for not only a few hours later you two share a blood kiss, bounding the two of your souls together at last.
--
tags: @b00kw0rmsworld
188 notes · View notes
priestessame · 6 months
Text
Jing Yuan☆
♡ "A snowball's chance in hell" ♡
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Warnings: This is a dark fic. Jing Yuan is a manipulative shit. Power dynamic, dub con, mind break, somno, drug use, gaslighting, degradation, skull fucking, penetrative sex, marking, dirty talk, cum play.
•°*”˜ AFAB female sub! reader
Minors you have no business here pls leave thankyou.
•°*”˜ Summary: The loufu general was a kind man. For the most part. (This man literally makes me so feral I'm sorry for everything that exists under the cut.
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The general smiled at you differently.
When you mentioned that to your colleagues, they laughed so hard that one snorted out the energy drink from his nose. You felt your face burn with embarrassment as they doubled over, slapping their knees. Your first thought was that you wouldn't ever mention it to anyone else again. And your next thought was to tell yourself that you were indeed overthinking it.
It was stupid of you to think that way.
You were probably just projecting your own anxiety on his mannerisms. Thinking there was something wrong with his smile was probably because you were nervous to begin with. Right? Why would someone like the general even notice you out of all the new recruits?
Well, he hadn't even seen you before you had actually bumped into him in the hallway, the impact making you fall back on your behind, that he actually saw you.
"s-sorry general." you had stuttered out, half mortified and half starstruck at the sudden encounter. For you, it was a situation out of some romance novel. Wasn't this the moment that the clumsy heroine bumped into the male lead sending papers scattering across the floor. The first time he actually notices her is the moment that sparks the tumultuous romance. An overdone trope but its prospect still made you feel butterflies.
"Are you alright?" he chuckled,
In your head, you had expected to see him the way you had seen him walk along the harbor, with a polite gait and a kind smile tracing his lips. His low chuckles ringing in the late afternoon sun as he allowed himself a glass of wine or more. Everyone there worshipped him, in a place like that how could you see that man as anything less than glorious? You had looked up hoping to see the same image. But that's when he gave you that smile.
Gaunt across his handsome face, it was exactly like the one he gave others, yet there was something morbidly wrong with it. It had given you chills you had never felt like someone had dragged an ice-cold dagger along your back.
"You should be more careful, cadet." He hummed, the skin around his eyes wrinkling as he gave you a departing nod.
The general did smile at you differently.
Most of the time you couldn't tell what it was exactly, but it was like he was masking something sinister underneath. It made you tip-toe around him since then, forever looking over your shoulder waiting for that darkness to actually catch up to you.
Until then, Jing Yuan never thought of himself to be that kind of a man. Someone sick who took a masochistic pleasure in knowing how much power he held over you. In the beginning, he tried feeling guilty about it, for even letting his sick thoughts about you plague him for that long. Yet the way his cock had twitched when you looked up at him, begged to differ.
The way your doe eyes were full of guilt, just for bumping into him. In that moment he had realized the unsurmountable pedestal you had placed him on. You just made it more and more difficult for him to resist the urge.
As the general, it wasn't hard to make sure you weren't sent out on patrol often. It was even easier to get you to agree with what your beloved general was saying. Of course, you would abide by his orders.
In the beginning, he tried to be more restrained. Choosing and picking when and where he could get to you. His little work trip had provided him the perfect opportunity.
You had been so vigilant the entire time. Running around to cater to every need of his dutifully. Not once interjecting his work. Such devotion truly deserved his attention.
It had made it all the more easy to slip you something. With all the trust you had in him, you would have downed it with a single command. But he fed it to you with expensive food and wine, after all he didn't want to scare you away.
As selfish as he wanted to be, he didn't really fuck you. Jing Yuan wanted you to be awake for that, watch your eyes widen as he stretched you out for the first time. To hear your sweet whimpers, bottled them up and down it like old wine.
But still, the scene before him had been nothing short of divine. The flushed face and the fluttering eyes, even when you were drugged out of your mind you still worshipped him. How could he not find devotion like that endearing?
He had taken his time to peel the layers off of you. Teeth grazing your skin, careful not to leave any marks. You really were his perfect doll, letting him rub his sensitive cock over your folds. He had fucked your thighs, eyes pinned on your pretty cunt as he spilled out on your stomach. He knew there and then that the next time had to be inside you.
When you actually did wake up, you were just apologetic. Embarrassed that you had fallen asleep on your general when you were supposed to be on duty. He was mostly amused at how quickly you pushed away the question he asked you about last night. It was fun to see your eyebrows knit as you tried to remember the faint details. The slightly confused glaze in your eyes as you realized how unnatural your memory loss was.
Jing Yuan had just smiled at you kindly, "You were just tired from working so hard." he said. And it had all just worked that perfectly.
But with the work at the Xianzhou increasing, his very precious trips had to be cut down. And now, he had noticed another problem.
The general of the Loufu knights leaned heavily against the window, his eyes following your frame skipping across the street to deliver the daily report. And just like every day, that asshole stopped you again. His anger flared at how badly he wanted to mangle up that stupid knight. The boy followed you like a shadow the moment you stepped outside the confines of the office, his slender eyes perched on your smallest gestures. Jing yuan couldn't tell what was more pathetic, how placidly obvious that man's crush on you was or how oblivious you were to it.
It was forever the same routine, he would watch you cross the street, and then get stopped by that idiot. The knight would scratch the back of his neck awkwardly, fighting to keep the blush off his face as he spoke to you.
Jing Yuan's eyes would be pinned on that reaction, watching it like a hawk from the window of his office. His chest rising and falling in silent anger as he wondered what lethargic conversation he was striking with you. You were too polite to brush off his advances, always so patient with even the most undeserving.
Jing Yuan spun away from his window, it was getting too much now, he had to claim you, split you open on his cock until you couldn't think of anyone but him. His cock throbbed at the thought of you pinned under him, babbling out sweet words of gratitude as he pounded into you. He knew you'd love it, he'd make sure of that. And if couldn't whisk you away, he'd just have to do it right here.
The first opportunity presented itself at once. It was surprising how he didn't even have to initiate anything.
You looked mortified at your actions, wide eyes so apologetic as they gauged the cracked vial of perfume on his desk. The perfume doused the general's clothes, the way it had splintered on the table, making the liquid run down the edge staining his trousers. 
"Didn't I tell you to be vigilant about this?" He sighed, over your teary apologies. 
You hung your head, knowing that it was probably something rare and important that you had broken. 
The ends of Jing Yuan's lips quirked in a smile,  
"Why don't you start by cleaning up the mess you made?" 
He said, slipping his shirt off his shoulders. You looked up confused, the general stood before you impatiently, waiting for you to act on what he had commanded. You faltered shifting on your feet, trying to understand what he was actually asking of you. Your eyes trailed down his bare torso, making you press your thighs together. Did he really want you to undress him? 
You shook your head, scrambling forward regardless to do as you were told. 
Your mouth went dry, fingers trembling as you unbuttoned his trousers, dropping down on your knees to settle between his legs. His hard bulge painfully noticeable, making a print against his pants.
Jing yuan clicked his tongue. He cupped your face, pulling you against him until you could feel the heat radiating off his body. His eyes pinned on your kneeling form, his thumb tracing your puffy lips playfully. There was something blistering about his gaze, almost wicked with the way his eyes sized you up.
"Use your mouth." he commanded. 
This time you faltered. Your heart raced in your chest. His words making you squeeze your thighs together.
Jing yuan tilted his head at your words, "Are you refusing to follow my orders knight?"
You could tell this was crossing a line. Something amoral and wrong, a dangerous line he always teased of crossing but never really did. It made your legs go weak.
"General, that's-" you tried, tears prickling at your eyes. You stopped mid sentence, you wanted to pleasure him so badly, to serve your general in every way you could. With everything he had done for you, how could you not?
"n-no general." you mimed back.
Jing Yuan gave you the same smile again, and it finally clicked in your head like puzzle pieces falling together. You had been too gullible about this hadn't you?
Your fingers pulled his cock out from the restraints of the trousers,
You gave the tip a nervous lick, curling your fingers around the thick base. He looked painfully hard, the pinkish tip already oozing precum. You felt an aching warmth pool between your legs, heat rushed to your cheeks as you realised just how much this fucked up situation was getting you off. He gave out a low groan as you rolled your tongue over the head, fingers sliding down to dig into your hair. The sound made your toes curl. 
You continued to run your tongue along his length dutifully, suddenly wanting to feel more of him in your mouth. He hissed as you slipped the sensitive head inside your mouth, wrapping your lips around girth and sucking softly, cheeks hallowing as your warm tongue slipped over the slit.
To actually look down at you being so pliant, trying to fit his cock into your mouth hoping to catch just a few words of praise.
The budding tears made your eyelashes stick to your cheek, "Am I doing it right general?" you moaned out, looking up at him as his cock slipped out of your mouth, coated in your saliva.
Jing yuan smiled at you, blood rushing to his cock at the soft tone of your voice. His fingers slid into your hair as a sense of triumph washed over him.
"You're doing so well." Jing yuan replied, his voice gruffier than usual. His grip on your tightened as he slid his cock back into your mouth deeper. You gagged at his sudden action, jerking forward. Your fingers dug into his thighs as he forced you to take his entire length into your mouth. His smell crept over you, flooding through your senses washing over you as you felt his cock hit the back of your throat. He threw his head back as he moaned, his thrusts getting sloppy as he neared his high. The groans bouncing off the walls of his office. You could feel your mind blank out as he rocked you to and fro. Now this was really filthy wasn't it? Allowing him to use your mouth to get off like that. But it was quiet the sight for you too, to look up at the general and see his head thrown back and his half-clad chest heaving. You felt your pussy squeeze at the sight. The unyielding lion so easily coming undone.
You felt his cock twitch in your mouth and he pulled out suddenly, groaning as he came over your clothed chest. Thick roped of cum spilled over your blouse, he leaned down to kiss up your tears, wiping away the dribbling juices with the palm of his hand.
"My," He mused, eyeing your soiled top, "we're gonna have to get rid of that now."
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His touch was gentle, as his fingers pulled on the straps of your Armor. It fell apart atonce. The thin fabric doing nothing to hide your hardened nipples. he could practically smell the arousal and the sweat lining the inside of your uniform.
He bit your ear lightly and you squealed, jerking upwards. Your general held you in place, tone arm wrapped around your middle to firmly plant you where you were. Just the way his fingers brushed against your bare skin, made you hold your breath. Your heart hammered in your chest, the smallest of his touch sending heat pooling between your legs.
The nervousness of the situation making you dizzy. "G-general please." you whimpered out, his teasing touches getting a little too much for you. Every part of your body was so sensitive right now, you could feel the warmth of his body as he pressed into your back, the soft bump of his nose as he traced the line of your neck. Even his sweet breath against your ears as he grazed his teeth over your skin playfully. Everything was blistering hot, it was sending your mind spiralling and he hadn't even really touched you yet.
You couldn't tell if you were begging him to let you go or actually touch you more.
A moan escaped your lips as his calloused hands dug into your clothed breasts, his touch was still gentle, Jing yuan sighed, his nose burying in the crook of your neck.
"You do trust your general don't you?" He drawled out, curling his finger over the hem of your shirt, before sliding it up. You yelped as your perky breasts slipped out eagerly.
Jing yuan was nothing short of gleeful to see your breasts, spilling out of your flimsy top. He liked how they fit in his palms, skin around your nipples hardening under his touch.
"Spread your legs wider." he commanded. Your body jumped out of instinct, instantly embarrassed as he chuckled at your reaction. 
"I thought I had someone innocent under my command." He hummed out, trailing his fingers down to your clothed pussy. 
His fingers traced the wet spot, the ghost of that touch making you squirm under him. 
"I didn't know you were such a filthy slut to begin with." You felt yourself tighten around his fingers. Somehow this touch still felt sinful, you felt like you were being toyed with. Held down between his legs as the general's fingers played with your cunt. Being spread out like that in his lap, facing the door, the slightest movement outside his closed door made you jump. He hooked his thumb around the band of your panties, slipping them off. The cold air kissed your folds, sending thrills of anticipation to you core. 
"General- w-we shouldn't." you tried again, your words stuck in your throat as his fingers brushed against your bare clit, dragging out deliciously slow circles.
"What's wrong? You don't like it?" he drawled out, his thumb rolled over your clit as you pressed down a moan "You see how nice and swollen this is doll?" 
"that means you like it." he said,
His words made your core flutter around his digits. "N-no that's not-" you sobbed out.
He chuckled as you squirmed from the pleasure, "You're sopping wet for your general," he continued, his fingers slipping from the slick that coated your folds. "Are you really this excited to feel your general's fingers inside you?" 
Jing Yuan was having too much fun, letting himself get carried away. He couldn't help it he found everything about you pretty, the sloppy folds, dripping from how he touched you before. The swollen clit, just begging for his attention and your little whimpers as he while he whispered nasty things to you. He really was a sick man, he admitted, playing with his subordinate's sweet cunt and liking it so much.
It wasn't soon before you felt the pleasure coil in your stomach, this slow torturous drags of his fingers, pulling your first orgasm out of you. 
Jing Yuan groaned as you tightened around his fingers, spasming as your orgasm washed over you. Tears of humiliation pricked your eyes as the high finally wore off, Jing Yuan cupped your face, slick covered fingers digging into your cheek as he kissed up your tears.
You were so sweet under him, just as he has imagined you would be. At this point he had basically pinned you down and had his way with your body. And still you looked up at him pliant and teary eyed, as if you were still begging for her beloved general's approval.
You felt his teeth graze your neck, as the realisation of what had actually happened crashed into you. Your body throbbed with desire, wanting to taste and feel more of him. 
"Good job" he murmured against your neck, the intensity of the whole situation making you tremble against him. He wasn't quite done with you yet, but you knew that like a cat only playing with its mouse, he'll just let you go today.
Make you squirm away from him in the lobbies and have you buckle under his gaze until he's had a fill of the fear. And keep you wondering when he would pounce next.
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"Please, have a seat." he said, gesturing for you to sit before him.
You gulped as he placed the drink before you, the greenish liquid sitting in the sake cup suspiciously. Jing yuan's amber eyes pinned on your frame, waiting.
"It's just rice wine." he hummed out.
Liar.
It was his patience with things like this that truly chilled you. His awareness of how you didn't really have any other choice but to do as he said. But he just liked to play it as if he was being a gentleman and giving you agency. While the truth was that you could show hesitation, reluctance even, but it didn't matter. 
Your fingers dug into your skirts nervously as you did sit down. For wine, the drink smelly sickly sweet. Its faint scent wafting through the room, it already made your head hurt. His eyes crinkled in approval at your action, "I'm sure you'll find the drink agreeable." He said.
Your core throbbed painfully as you watched him coil his slender fingers around the bottle to pour himself another drink. Well, at least he was drinking it himself too.
Reluctantly, you brought it to your lips, taking a nervous sip of the liquid. It was watery, somewhat sweet yet tardy. You missed his smile as you drained your glass, it wasn't bad at all. It almost felt like you had tasted it before.
The taste was familiar. 
It was the same taste you had woken up with curling in your mouth every time you went on the travels with him. It was what had made you wake up dazed and confused.
Your stomach dropped as the room spun around you. The pillows felt so soft, sinking like clouds under your weight as the general pushed himself over you.
He pinned you under him as he brushed off the strands of wry hair from your face, whispering sweet things against your skin, as a strange haze made your head feel heavy. 
His thumb ran along your puffy lip, pressing his mouth over yours. His tongue felt hot and warm against yours, the sweet-liquid rolling down your chin. The kiss started innocently, only to become messy and hungry, growing more and more needy by the minute. You tried to keep up feverishly, the softest of his touches seemed to sear into your skin, sending your core throbbing. You mewled out under him, a strange haze covering your mind.
You had expected it to be intoxicating, but you hadn't expect it to be an actual aphrodisiac. Your body would already get sensitive under his touch, but this made you feel like your skin was on fire. His kisses trailed down your jaw, fingers sliding under your shirt to feel more of your skin. It wasn't enough. His calloused had reaching down to wipe your chin, 
"More~" You pleaded out, begging him to touch and feel you more. Your mind continued to grow foggier, 
He cupped your face pulling it forward to kiss your face again, you murmured against his lips as he pulled away, "If I knew you'd be this willing, I would have had you awake the first time." 
Jing Yuan tipped the bottle over you, letting the drink pour down your chest. You squirmed as it felt cool against your burning skin. His tongue dragged up along your skin to taste you, pulling at your sensitive skin, fingers reaching up to knead into the softness of your breasts. 
Jing yuan chuckled, "Did you wait for this so much doll?" He cooed out, watching as you arched your back rubbing your clothed core against his bulge. 
He pressed you forward forcing you to present to him and the drug made you stumble face first into the pillows.  "How awful of me." he feigned, lifting up one leg until he pressed your knee into your shoulder. You buried your face in your fingers from the embarrassment. The position just completely exposed you to him.
"General, please." you mewled out,
You yelped as he kissed up your cunt lightly, trying to not get carried away.  All he wanted to do was flatten his tongue against your folds and eat you out until you were crying. But his cock was painfully hard in his trousers, and he finally had you where he wanted, it would be too cruel not getting to fuck you. 
"Do you really want your general to ruin you like this?" His eyes narrowed, voice tinged with a hostility that was nothing like him. Your breath hollowed as you replied, "Y-yes."
"Beg."
Your legs kicked out impatiently, the need to feel him inside you now starting to hurt, "Please fill me up" you begged him, "Make me your slut General, please- please." you babbled out. 
The tip bumped into your entrance and you yelped out his name, he slid his cock up against your folds, digging into your throbbing clit before sliding down towards your entrance again.
His cock collecting your slick as he continued to tease you still. "Such a pretty cunt," He murmured,
His cock fit in you snugly, stretching you out. You moaned out, fingers digging into the pillows as he forced his length inside. 
Your mind couldn't comprehend anything other than how good it felt. The slow drag of his cock against your walls, the aphrodisiac heightening your pleasure. In the end he was generous with sex too. He fucked you rough and hard as it went on, pulling you on all fours before him.
His fingers dug into your hair, yanking you back so that you slammed back into him, his cock burying hilt deep with each thrust. You could feel him twitch inside you, moulding you to his shape. You tightened around his girth as he continued to whisper sinful things. Expressing how many times he had decided to take you in your sleep, wanting for you to wake up only to find him buried into you. The pleasure continued to stack up as he continued to fuck you, his own breath hitching as he neared his high.
He jerked you back into him, his voice heavy, "Should I just knock you up doll?" he growled out, "fill you up, so everyone knows you're my cum slut?"
Your heart skipped a beat, the weight of the situation suddenly hitting you, "No- wait general-" you pleaded, but his grip around your waist just tightened. Holding you in place as his hot cum painted your walls.
Your slick mixed with the general's cum dribbled down from your cunt, the burning now a faint throb. You squeezed your thighs together, despite the soreness between your legs you still felt your pussy throb with a needy ache.
His fingers dug into the meat of your ass, pulling you back towards him until his cock pressed into your entrance. He groaned as he bottomed into you again, burying his face in your hair. His pace turned slower, thrusts getting deeper as he fucked his cum back into you, forming a ring around his girth. You couldn't help but curl your toes as his length dragged against your tight walls again, wanting to fill you up once more.
Your legs trembled as you sank into the pillows, giving yourself to him entirely, maybe, if you're nice enough your general would even fuck you to sleep.
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What is with me and writing about crazed sex with powerful manipulative men???
ɿ(。・ɜ・)ɾ Ⓦⓗⓨ ɿ(。・ɜ・)ɾ
This was supposed to be first of the kinktober series and it ended up being all i could milk out :/
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plutopitou · 7 months
Text
◇ Limitless
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gojo satoru x reader
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It felt so real.. Gojo Satoru was dead. Or so you thought until you woke up in a cold sweat staring in the eyes ot your one and only.
wc 1.9k
warnings: basically sfw besides death (everyones alive lmao. He’s just a sweetheart in this one.
hope u all enjoyed as i havent had the time to write with passion until a couple days ago!
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They said he was the strongest.
The six eyes.
The untouchable.
The one who stood tall over everyone else with unforgiving grace and supremacy.
Your lover..
Was dead at your feet.
His eyes that glittered effortlessly- shinier than an afternoon sun on blue ocean water blew out quicker than a fire with no wood, leaving it lifeless with the rest of his body in the center of his own blood like a seance.
Dead eyes stared up towards heaven, arms sprayed out ready to be taken where the god’s felt he shall rest for good.
You couldn’t hear your own scream of despair over your rapid heartbeat and ringing in your ear that seemed to get higher and higher.
Pitchier and pitchier.
You couldn’t even feel yourself being pulled back by his students as you tried to launch yourself to his still body; to hold his hand one last time even if it wasn’t warm anymore from the fire of his passion.
Why are you just laying there?
Get up, Satoru!
“Satoru!” You called out for him again, a glimmer of hope wishing the anguish in your voice was enough to jumpstart his heart back alive.
Satoru.
.
.
“Satoru!” You cry out, feeling wetness drain down your cheeks and swept away as they fell.
The ringing in your ears was still present as you jolt up, taking in your surroundings in a frantic state as cold shivers run up your spine from anxiety and shock.
He’s dead..
The space in front of you was a blur leaving your body in a fight or flight response, hitting whatever was in your sight- a dark silhouette of warmth grasps your shaky wrists together condemning you a danger to yourself.
He’s dead.
Another hand holds the plush of your cheek, wiping away the tears from your hot, damp skin.
The ringing slowly subsides as your name being called repeatedly echos around the room to your ears and your vision becomes clearer.
“(Y/n)..? Hey, look at me..” He calls out for you.
That velvety voice is more coarse than usual as the morning hour slowly rises to shine at you both through the thin black curtains.
Your breath starts to slow, turning into feint, uncoordinated hiccups of air; the cool breeze of the open window wisps by the curtains, lifting to let the moonlight illuminate the figure by your side.
Satoru.
The light of the moon casts over his pale skin and white hair in a sapphire blue sheen, eyes glittering down at you in confusion and worry; lost of its usual unserious nature.
The air hits your sweaty face as you begin to let yourself feel.
His warm hands you thought you’d never feel heat from again.
And the blood running through his veins, continuing to let his heart beat.
His hair messily frames his sharp face as he digests what is happening.
There was no way to describe the fear dragging in his stomach like an achor from waking to the screams of his name wailed out by you at his side.
You don’t answer his questions, instead pulled into his lean chest, basked into the healing sensation of love radiating from his lively body to yours. The thump of his heartbeat to remind you it’s still there,
that he’s still here.
His sweet words muttered quietly to the shell of your ear that it is alright,
“Everything’s okay. I’m here, baby, I’m here.” He whispers running slender fingers through your hair, lulling your worries away. “What’s wrong?” He asks full of soft fret.
Your eyes are clenched in this neck, the mental picture of his morbid body etched inside. “I’m scared to go back to sleep.” You choke out.
It hurt to even say it outloud.
But he didn’t need to hear it to know what you dreamt about.
You now lay down, head to his chest while running your fingers down his now grown out hair that tickles the base of his neck.
Gojo lays you on him, purposefully letting your head rest of the gentle thump of his steady heartbeat, large palm petting down your hair. Your breathing becomes stable, softly huffing breaths as you slowly fall asleep in his comfort.
It pinched his heart knowing dreaming of such things was an internal fear you’ve always had coming to fruition through your consciousness. He lays there wide awake listening to your light snores of sleep. Gojo couldn’t exactly blame you for having nightmares like this. He practically was playing a risky game of chess with the grim reaper every other night.
It wasn’t death that scared Gojo Satoru, the afterlife was the last thing he was scared of.
As a man whose mere existence puts the rest of the world in check, there were many things he could control. But he hated to admit there were some he just couldn’t.
However leaving you alone in a world where he watches cruelty rule over compassion, that is what scared him the most.
Your sweet, angelic self that only deserved to live a life of happiness and self-fulfillment. He was too selfish to leave you by yourself, refusing to ever let it happen.
Even if he was on his last leg, fighting the red devil to crawl through limbo to come back to you, he’d win and succeed to your embrace.
Before he met you, he’d always wondered if death was more kind.
His thoughts are cut off hearing you stir in your sleep, shifting to another position clutched on his body, heart skipping just from how peaceful and enchanting you are.
A world with you without him just simply did not exist in his eyes , and he’d keep it that way.
He’d always win, for you.
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So happy to have finished this I kind love it and tried to have a more serious theme in the literature; so I hope I expressed that a bit better 🫶🏻
Really needed some copium if y’all know what I mean :(
Please follow, like and reblog ʕ⁎̯͡⁎ʔ༄
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peavhyshy · 3 months
Text
𝗦𝗛𝗢𝗣𝗣𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗦𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗘 (oneshot)
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Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader
Summary: In which Rafe goes over-the-top as usual to apologize for cheating which includes a grand gesture of buying out an entire boutique is creatively meant to convey his guilt.
Warnings: strong language, fluff, semi smut (but not really), power dynamics, mental/emotional manipulation and ulterior motives, reference to cheating, sexually suggestive situations, non-consensual elements (pressure/coercion into sexual acts), dubious consent, unhealthy relationship, discomfort/anxiety, misogyny/objectification
Words: 5,130
a/n: It's been a while since I posted on here and whatever so here I am, but who's to say I won't disappear for another few months
Outer Banks Masterlist | Main Masterlist
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Rafe sauntered into the high-end boutique, the little bell above the door announcing his arrival. The sales associates perked up, eyeing his Ralph Lauren polo and Sperry boat shoes. Ah, a Kook with money to burn. 
"Hello sir, can I help you find anything today?" the manager asked, her voice dripping with fake pleasantness.
"Yeah, I need to buy out like, your whole store," Rafe said nonchalantly, checking out a display of cashmere sweaters. 
The associates' eyes widened in surprise and delight. "Buy out the whole store, sir?"
"Yep. I screwed up badly with my girl. She's a Pogue, you know? Doesn't really do the whole fancy clothes thing. But she found out I cheated on her with some Touron last week, and now she's pissed." Rafe picked up a floral sundress, scrutinizing it. "So I figured, what better way to say sorry than decking her out in some new designer threads?"
The manager nodded enthusiastically. "I'm sure she'll appreciate the gesture. Let me start ringing up some items for you."  
"Nah, like I said, I want to buy out the whole damn store. Just name your price." Rafe pulled out his credit card, waving it around.  
The manager's eyes lit up at the thought of the huge commission she was about to make. "Of course, sir, let me calculate our current retail inventory value and I'll give you a total."
"Make it quick. I’ve got a picnic on the beach planned to beg for her forgiveness," Rafe said, leaning on the cash wrap counter impatiently. 
The manager returned shortly with the grand total. Rafe didn't even blink as he handed over his credit card. Anything to get his Pogue princess back.
Rafe leaned against the wall near the cash register, watching with disinterest as the store employees scurried around grabbing items off racks and shelves.
"Come on, pick up the pace," he called out impatiently. "I wanna get out of here before the sun goes down."
The manager gave him an appeasing smile as she stuffed an armful of sundresses into a large box. "We're going as fast as we can, sir. I really appreciate your business - this is the biggest sale we've ever had!"
Rafe just shrugged, stifling a yawn. The workers were cramming the boxes full of tissue paper and accessories, trying to maximize what they could fit. Shoes, handbags, skirts, tops - everything was being cleared off the floors and walls. 
One associate struggled to fold a pile of cashmere sweaters to fit in an overflowing box while another carefully wrapped up a display of fine china jewelry. The store was slowly emptying out as the minutes ticked by.
"Ugh, this is taking forever," Rafe groaned, pulling out his phone to scroll aimlessly. "I should've just gone to Party City and bought her a bunch of balloons or something." 
The manager's smile strained a bit as she kept up her enthusiastic energy. "Almost done, sir! Just a few more minutes and you'll have our entire inventory to present to your lovely girlfriend."
"Yeah, yeah," Rafe muttered, back to being bored. Buying out the whole store was proving to be more tedious than he had anticipated. But hey, you were worth it. Probably.
”I need all of this shipped to her beach house.”
The manager nodded as she taped up another overstuffed box. "Of course, sir. I can arrange delivery to any address you'd like."
She gestured to one of the other employees. "Sara, can you grab some shipping labels? We'll need to send all of these boxes to this gentleman's girlfriend's house once we're finished packing everything up."  
Sara hurried to grab a stack of shipping labels and a pen. "What's the address, sir?" she asked Rafe.
"Oh, uh..." Rafe scratched his head. "Somewhere in The Cut, not really sure of the exact address. It's a small blue house near the bay though, it has a tire swing out front. Think the name on the mailbox is L/N or something like that."
Sara looked confused. "Do you have the street name or number? There are a lot of small blue houses in The Cut."
Rafe rolled his eyes. "Jesus, I don't know that shit. Her dad's name is Hank though, if that helps. Everyone knows Hank the Tank down there."
The manager and Sara exchanged a look, neither seeming confident about locating the right address. 
"Tell you what," Rafe continued, pulling out a thick wad of cash from his back pocket. "Here's 500 bucks. That should cover you guys figuring out where the hell to deliver all this stuff to Y/N in The Cut. I'm sure one of the Pogues down there can point you in the right direction."
He tossed the cash on the counter and headed for the door without another word, leaving the overwhelmed store employees with boxes piled high and vague delivery information.
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You squinted against the setting sun as three large delivery trucks rumbled down the sandy driveway toward your family's weathered beach house. You set down your cards on the rickety picnic table, where you had been playing an intense game of Crazy Eights with John B, JJ, Sarah, and Kiara.
"What the hell is this?" you muttered. The trucks parked haphazardly amidst the uncut grass and strewn beach debris surrounding the house. Drivers hopped out and opened up the backs, revealing piles and piles of boxes crammed to the brim.
"Whoa, did you order the entire Amazon warehouse or something?" JJ joked, sauntering over to inspect the deliveries. 
Before you  could respond, the porch boards creaked loudly under the weight of multiple pairs of high-heeled shoes. The group turned to see half a dozen boutique store employees teetering across the uneven ground, laden with clothing on hangers and large shopping bags.
"Oh no..." you groaned, realization dawning on you. 
"Delivery for Ms. Y/N L/N!" one of the women trilled, scanning the rural beachfront for the recipient. 
"That's you, Y/N," John B said, giving you a puzzled look.
Just then, a delivery man approached with an oversized bouquet of roses and a card. "Are you Ms. Y/N? These are for you along with all of these boxes."
"I'm going to kill him," you seethed, grabbing the card. Sure enough, it was from Rafe, attempting to apologize for cheating in his usual over-the-top Kook fashion.   
The others laughed, taking in the three trucks overflowing with designer clothes and accessories that had arrived on your doorstep.  The group whooped and raced toward the trucks, laughing at Rafe's attempt to buy back your forgiveness. You had to admit - it was a pretty damn good start.
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The sun had just set over the expansive Cameron estate as you marched up the long driveway and let yourself in the front door. You breezed past the elaborate foyer and down the hall towards the state-of-the-art home gym, where you knew you would find Rafe. 
Sure enough, there he was - shirtless and pumping iron, the clanking of weights echoing through the large room. You crossed your arms, watching as Rafe finished his set of bicep curls before acknowledging your presence. 
"Oh hey babe," he said casually, setting down the dumbbells. "I see you got my gifts."
"You mean the eighteen-wheeler trucks filled with designer clothes that choked the road to my house all afternoon?" you replied sharply.  
Rafe grinned. "So I take it, you liked them?"
You rolled your eyes. "Did you seriously buy out the entire Verona Boutique?"
"Maybe," Rafe shrugged, grabbing his towel to wipe the sweat from his brow. 
"Why would you do that?" you asked in exasperation. 
"Come on, I was just trying to apologize for what I did," Rafe said. "I wanted to show you how much you mean to me."
You sighed heavily. "You can't buy me off with fancy clothes, Rafe. That's not how this works."  
Rafe stood up and walked over to you. "But did it at least make you smile a little?" he asked with a coy grin. 
Despite yourself, You felt the corners of your mouth turn upward. You shook your head, trying to fight the smile. 
"You're unbelievable," you scoffed. But Rafe took your reaction as a promising sign. 
"So...am I forgiven?" he asked. 
You shrugged, struggling to stay stern. "You're not off the hook yet. But...it's a start."
Rafe smiled victoriously and pulled you into an embrace. You hated to admit it, but his over-the-top gesture did melt away some of your anger. Only a Kook would think that buying out an entire boutique could fix cheating - but you had to give him points for creativity.
Rafe's face lit up with a delighted grin as he saw the smile fighting its way onto your lips. Score! He knew you couldn't stay mad at him for long, not when he pulled out all the stops with his over-the-top apology gifts. Sure, buying you an entire wardrobe wasn't exactly practical, but he wanted to go big to show you how much he cared. Because even though he screwed up by cheating, your were still his girl and he needed you to know you were #1. No Touron hookup could ever mean anything compared to you.
Pulling you tighter into his embrace, Rafe pressed a kiss to the top of your head as you nuzzled into his bare chest. He could tell the wheels were still turning in your mind, trying to decide if you were ready to fully forgive  him yet. But he had plenty more tricks up his sleeve if needed. Diamonds, a new car, a trip to Paris - anything you wanted, it was yours. Being the heir to the Cameron fortune had its perks when you needed to get yourself out of the doghouse.
"So when are you gonna model some of these new outfits for me, hmm?" he murmured suggestively in your ear. "Maybe a private fashion show tonight? I'll even let you use my black AmEx again if you want to pick up some sexy lingerie to complete the looks." He grinned devilishly.
You rolled your eyes and gently pushed out of his embrace. "Down boy. You're not off the hook yet," you reminded him, though your tone had softened considerably. Rafe held up his hands in mock surrender.
"Okay okay, I know. But you gotta admit, the mental image is pretty hot," he said with a wink. you just shook your head, trying to hide your smile. You could never stay irritated with him for long. 
"Alright, I should get home and figure out what to do with the small mountain of designer clothes currently cluttering up my living room," You sighed. "I still can't believe you bought out the entire store."
Rafe waved a hand casually. "Don't even trip about it. Consider it just a small token of my love," he said smoothly.
You quirked an eyebrow. "A small token? Rafe, it's got to be worth at least $20,000 worth of stuff."
Rafe shrugged. "Meh, that's like pocket change for me, babe. You're worth it and so much more." He pulled you in for a quick kiss. "I'll swing by later to help you sort through it all, yeah?"
You nodded, a genuine smile breaking through now. "Yeah, okay. I'll see you later." you gave him one last peck on the lips before heading out, shaking your head slightly at your ridiculous boyfriend's attempt to buy your forgiveness. But even you had to admit it was a pretty damn adorable gesture. The boy was utterly smitten, that much was clear. And even if it took a small army of delivery trucks worth of designer clothes to prove it, you supposed you couldn't complain. After all, what girl didn't love a massive shopping spree courtesy of the Cameron family fortune?
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Rafe sauntered up the stairs of your beach house, not bothering to knock before letting himself in. your dad was away on a fishing charter and he knew you’d be home alone trying to organize the massive shipment of clothes he had sent over as an apology gift.
"Knock knock, princess!" he called out as he strode down the hall to your bedroom. "Did you get a chance to try on any of the new outfits I bought you?"
He pushed open your bedroom door to find you sitting cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by mounds of tissue paper and discarded shopping bags. You looked up at him in exasperation.
"Rafe! You could at least knock before barging into my room," you admonished. 
“My bad, didn't mean to startle you. Just excited to see my gifts being put to use," he said with a grin.
You sighed, gesturing to the chaos around you. "Well, I've been trying to sort through it all morning but there's just so much stuff. You went way overboard as usual."
"Anything to make my girl happy," Rafe replied smoothly, plopping down on the floor next to you. "Here, let me help you get organized."
He began sifting through the piles of clothing, occasionally holding up items for your inspection. "Ooh, you have to model this one for me," he said, grabbing a lacy black teddy. "And this mini skirt would look so hot on you."
You blushed deeply, snatching the risqué items out of his hands. "Rafe! My dad could be home any minute," you hissed in embarrassment.
"So? I want him to see how smoking his daughter looks in the outfits I bought her," Rafe said with a devilish grin. "Might make him finally approve of me."
You buried your face in your hands. "You're unbelievable," you groaned. "Can we please just focus on organizing? I don't have time for an impromptu fashion show."
"Fine fine, I'll behave. For now," he added in a playful whisper.
You guys spent the next hour sorting your new wardrobe into categories - dresses, tops, bottoms, shoes, jewelry. Rafe "helped" by periodically holding up scandalous lingerie pieces and wiggling his eyebrows suggestively until you threaten to smack him with a stiletto heel.
Despite your exasperation at the overabundance of clothing, you had to admit it was fun exploring all the different styles and accessories Rafe had picked out for you. The boy definitely knew your taste, even if he did go over-the-top with buying out the entire store. You made a mental note to donate some of the clothes to charity once you had a chance to try it all on.
You collapsed backwards onto a pile of cashmere sweaters. "Phew! We’re almost done." You smiled over at Rafe. "Thanks for your help. And for the very generous gift. Even though it's pretty ridiculous you bought out an entire store," you added with a laugh.
Rafe grinned and leaned down to capture your lips in a soft kiss. "Anything for my princess," he murmured. "You deserve to be spoiled rotten."
You giggled as he nuzzled your neck, wrapping your arms around him. You supposed you couldn't stay irritated with him for long, not when he was just trying to show his affection through expensive gifts. Over-the-top as it may be.
"Alright Casanova, that's enough distracting me," You said, playfully nudging him away. "Now help me get all of these clothes put away in my closet before my dad gets home."
You shook your head in amusement. "You're absolutely ridiculous. But…" You tilted your head up to him and smiled."I love you for it."
Rafe playfully tackled you onto the pile of cashmere sweaters you had been sorting through. You let out a surprised squeal, smacking his chest lightly as he hovered over you. "Rafeee, I told you to behave!" you chided through your laughter. He just grinned mischievously, dipping his head to kiss along your neck and collarbone as you squirmed beneath him ticklishly.
"Mm mm, you know I can never keep my hands off you for long," he murmured against your skin, nipping lightly. His hands slid up under your shirt, tracing along your stomach and ribs. You shivered at the contact, cheeks flushing as you felt him growing hard against your thigh already. You really shouldn't be doing this with your dad liable to come home any minute…but then again, the risk just made it more exciting.
You bit your lip, hesitating only a moment longer before grabbing Rafe's face and crashing your lips to his in a hungry kiss. He groaned into your mouth, grinding his hips down against yours. Things were escalating fast, all thoughts of organizing clothes now tossed aside. Rafe broke the kiss only to tug your shirt over your head swiftly. His eyes drank in the sight of your breasts encased in a lacy pink bra.
"Damn baby…have I mentioned how fucking sexy you look in all these new lingerie pieces I bought you?" He reached around to unclasp your bra, leaning down to take one of your nipples in his mouth. You whimpered, arching into him. You were quickly losing the willpower to stop this and he knew it. His hands slid under your skirt, fingers dipping beneath your panties to find you wet and ready for him already. His hands wandered recklessly over your body, groping and grasping wherever they pleased..
"R-Rafe, my dad…" You gasped half-heartedly in protest even as your body betrayed you, arching into his touch.
Rafe silenced you with another bruising kiss, grinding his arousal against you. His fingers tangled in your hair, using it as a handle to maneuver your head for better access to your neck and chest.
"Shh, don't worry about him," Rafe crooned, his breath hot against your ear. "It's just us right now." His knee nudged between your legs, parting your thighs as he claimed your mouth once more.
Your knees went weak, overwhelmed by the onslaught of Rafe's hungry kisses and wandering hands. You clung to his shoulders for support, unable to form a coherent thought beyond the sparking heat of his body pressed to yours. Your token protests died away as Rafe's skilled fingers caressed the soft skin of your breasts.
"That's my good girl," he praised darkly when you arched into his touch instead of pulling away. His knee rubbed teasingly between your legs as he continued his pleasurable assault, intent on showing you exactly who was in control here.
Your mind reeled, inner alarm bells drowned out by the pounding heartbeat in your ears. You knew you should push Rafe away, stop this before it went too far with your dad possibly home any minute. But your traitorous body seemed to have other ideas as it melted shamefully against Rafe's hard frame.
His kisses left you dizzy and compliant, willpower evaporating under the intoxicating strokes of his hands. But when those hands went to zip down your skirt, some deeply buried remnant of reason sparked back to life inside you.
"Rafe, stop," you gasped out, catching his wrists in your hands. He paused, eyes dark with lust and irritation at being denied his prize.
"Come on baby, don't be like that," he cajoled, leaning in to nip at your earlobe. "I know you want this too."
You shook your head, gently but firmly removing his hands from your body. "No, not now. Not here." Your cheeks burned but you held your ground. "I'm not comfortable going any further with my dad so close by. Can we please just…slow down?"
Rafe's jaw tightened, displeasure evident at having his fun interrupted. But after a tense moment he stepped back.
"Fine, princess, whatever you say," he relented, tone dripping with poorly concealed frustration. You let out a shaky breath, tugging your rumpled clothing back into place. Your lips still tingled from the force of Rafe's kisses but the frenzied moment had passed.
"Thank you. I'm sorry, I just don't want our first time to be so…rushed," You said earnestly, hoping he could understand despite his obvious annoyance at being denied. His eyes remained dark but he managed a tight smile.
"Yeah yeah, I got it. Wouldn't want Daddy dearest walking in on us anyway," he said with an eye roll. You smiled weakly, knowing that was as close to understanding as you would get from him right now. At least he had backed off for the moment. But you had a feeling this conversation was far from over. Rafe did not like being told no.
He swallowed down his anger, forcing his face into a strained smile. He had to play this carefully; you Lila too much and you’d bolt. No, he needed to lure you in gently, make you trust him completely.
"Of course, princess. We'll take this at your pace," he said smoothly, stroking your cheek. "I just got carried away because you're so damn irresistible." He kissed your forehead, the very picture of understanding despite the lust still raging inside him.
You visibly relaxed, giving him a shy smile. "Thank you, Rafe. I'm glad you understand. I promise, when the time is right…" You trailed off, blushing. Rafe tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, letting his fingers trail down your neck teasingly.
"Don't worry baby, I'll make it so good for you when you're ready," he purred. You shivered, skin tingling from his touch. "For now, why don't you model some of these new outfits for me? Might give me a sneak peek of what I have to look forward to." He grinned devilishly.
You laughed, swatting his chest playfully. "You're incorrigible," you admonished, but went to pick out a few items from the piles of new clothes. Rafe settled on your bed, hungry eyes tracking your every movement.  For now, he would enjoy the little fashion show. But it was only a matter of time before those clothes ended up scattered across the bedroom floor instead.
A relieved smile crossed your face as Rafe appeared to accept your request to slow things down without argument. You knew he must be frustrated, but you appreciate him respecting your boundaries for now. There would be a right time and place for intimacy later on.
As you sifted through the piles of new clothes, Your smile faltered slightly. You could feel Rafe's intense gaze following your every movement, almost palpable in its hunger. It sent a shiver down your spine, but not entirely an unpleasant one. Still, something about the glint in his eyes gave you pause.
You selected a few simple, conservative outfits to model - a loose fitting sundress, some shorts with a flowy blouse. But Rafe tsked in disappointment, getting up to rummage through the options himself.
"Oh come on, you can do better than that," he coaxed, grabbing a slinky miniskirt and cropped tank top. "I want to see my sexy girl shine." He shot you a playful grin as he pressed the revealing clothes into your hands.
You laughed nervously. "Rafe, those aren't really my style…" But he pouted childishly, guiding you towards the adjoining bathroom.
"Humor me? Just a peek," he insisted. You hesitated, then relented with a shy smile. You had never worn anything so risqué before, but the delight on Rafe's face was gratifying. And it was just the two of you after all…
You changed quickly, adjusting the tiny skirt over yourself. The top was snug and showed a hint of midriff that made you self-conscious. But Rafe's eager expression as you stepped out stopped any protests before they left your lips.
"Stunning," he breathed, drinking in the sight of you. You blushed under his intense scrutiny, suddenly feeling very exposed. But you tried to push past it, giving an awkward little twirl to show off the outfit fully. Rafe's grin was downright predatory.
"Now take it off nice and slow," he said lowly, eyes raking over you. "Give me a proper show."
You balked, arms crossing instinctively over your torso. "Rafe, I…" His eyebrows shot up in challenge and you faltered. Maybe you were overthinking things. You didn't want to disappoint him again…
With trembling fingers, You reached for the hem of the snug tank top. But the voice inside screaming this was a bad idea only grew louder. You dropped your hands, shaking your head firmly as you backed towards the bathroom.
"I'm sorry Rafe, I can't do this. The clothes need to stay on." Your voice was small but resolute. You wouldn't ignore your instincts, not even to placate Rafe's desires. His scowl made your stomach twist anxiously, but you stood your ground, waiting for his response.
Taking a deep breath, Rafe fixed an understanding smile on his face. "You're right, I got carried away again. I'm sorry," he said gently. "I just can't control myself around you sometimes. You look so gorgeous in that outfit."
He approached you slowly until you allowed him to take your hands in his. "Of course the clothes should stay on until you're ready. I'm truly sorry for pushing you, princess." He brushed a tender kiss over your knuckles.
You visibly relaxed, giving him a grateful smile. "It's okay, Rafe. Thank you for understanding." You leaned up on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek before disappearing back into the bathroom to change.
You emerged from the bathroom in a comfortable sundress, feeling infinitely more at ease now that you were back in your own clothes. Rafe's obvious disappointment tugged at your heartstrings for a moment, but you brushed it aside. You knew in your gut that stripping for him, even just down to your underwear, wasn't something you were ready for yet.
To your relief, Rafe seemed to have reigned himself in and was back to his usual charming self, apologizing for getting carried away again. You smiled up at him gratefully, leaning in to give him a light kiss on the cheek.
"Thank you for being so patient with me," You said earnestly. "It really means a lot. I know this is all new for me." you ducked your head a bit shyly.
Rafe tilted your chin up, smiling fondly as he gazed down at you. "Of course, princess. I'll wait as long as you need. I'm just happy to be with you," he assured you smoothly.
Your heart swelled. You knew you had been lucky to find a guy like Rafe. Wealthy Kook boys had a reputation for being entitled spoiled brats. But most people didn't get to see this sweet, caring side of Rafe like you did. He could be impulsive and hot headed at times, but he respected your boundaries when it really mattered.
"You're the best boyfriend ever," You declared, going up on tiptoe to kiss him warmly. Rafe grinned against your lips, strong arms circling your waist.
"Anything for my girl," he murmured affectionately when you broke apart. You playfully booped his nose, eliciting a laugh from him.
"Alright mister, as much as I appreciate these new clothes, I could really use some help donating some of them," you said in a practical tone. "I can't even wear this many outfits in a lifetime!"
Rafe heaved a dramatic sigh but smiled good-naturedly. "Fiiine, guess I did go a little overboard on the shopping spree," he conceded. You giggled.
"Just a bit. Come on, let's get started." You took his hand, leading him back to the piles of clothes awaiting sorting. Even if Rafe's impulsive extravagance could be frustrating at times, You were grateful to have someone so attentive and willing to lavish you with gifts and affection. You hoped in time he would come to value you for more than just your looks or virginity. For now, You were content to take things slow and simply enjoy exploring young love one day at a time.
Rafe resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he let you lead him by the hand back to the piles of designer clothes he had gifted you. Donating them? What a pointless waste. He had spent a small fortune solely with the intent of seeing you decked out in finery, not giving it away to the destitute Pogues of the Cut.
But he bit his tongue, keeping up the doting act. "Of course I'll help, babe. Anything you want," he said smoothly, playing with your fingers.
Soon, he promised himself as he pulled you in for a chaste kiss on the forehead that contradicted his lustful thoughts. Your smile made him want to gag, but he mirrored it charmingly. Let you enjoy playing house a little while longer. He was adept at getting what he wanted from any woman eventually. The thought made Rafe's cock stir impatiently, but he willed it down. Not yet. He needed to lull you into total complacency first before finally stripping away the last of your resistance.
You hummed contentedly to yourself as you neatly folded clothes into donation boxes, Rafe helping beside you. You smiled up at him after he gave you a sweet kiss on the forehead, happy you guys seemed to be back in sync after the brief tension earlier.
You held up a slinky red cocktail dress, pondering keeping it for a special occasion. But no, it wasn't really your style at all. Into the donation box it went. You frowned slightly as you pulled out several incredibly risqué lingerie items - crotchless panties, lace teddies that left little to the imagination. Definitely not your taste.
"Geez Rafe, did you raid the whole lingerie section?" you asked with a laugh. Rafe just shrugged, unbothered. You shook your head in amusement as you set them aside to give to your more adventurous friend.
Once all the clothes were sorted, you surveyed the boxes contentedly. You had kept enough everyday outfits to last a lifetime, but now many girls in the Cut would have the chance to enjoy fancy new clothes too. It made you happy to spread the wealth, so to speak.
"There, all done! The donation center is going to be thrilled." You smiled brightly at Rafe. "This was a really great idea. I know I said it already, but thank you again for being so generous. And understanding about…everything," you finished, cheeks pinking slightly.
Rafe smiled back warmly, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "Of course, babe. Anything for you," he said, dropping a kiss to the top of your head. You snuggled into his side, relieved you seemed to be back on the same page.
You hoped with time, Rafe would see you as more than just a conquest or object of physical desire. For now, you were content taking it slow, focusing on emotional intimacy over physical. You had all the time in the world for those things later on if things progressed. But for today, You were simply happy snuggling innocently with the boy who made you feel so safe, protected and cherished. Everything was perfect just as it was.
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