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venusjeon · 6 months

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angel in the marble

after you fail to pickpocket him, the famous yet arrogant artist Jeon Jungkook takes you off the streets to make you his servant, and the more you know him, the more you realise he's not as detestable as everyone claims he is.

♔ PAIRING: michelangelo!jungkook x servant!reader

♔ GENRE: high renaissance au, angst, smut, humour

♔ WORD COUNT: 8k

♔ WARNINGS: homelessness, stealing, mild swearing/violence/drinking, 90% of this is bickering lmao, mentions of minor characters' death, jealousy and kinda possessiveness?, referenced unconsensual groping (not by jk), a bit of blasphemy, making out, groping, fingering, rough angry sexxx, choking, slapping

♔ AUTHOR'S NOTE: fun fact this is mostly historically accurate! jk's characterisation, the grocery list doodles, the sack of rome, the beef with his brother, the encounter with his rival (raphael)... are all taken from michelangelo's actual life, even some stuff is quoted from his letters lol. man was fanfic material.

1529, Rome

“How much for that one?”

“No, that one’s sold already.”

It was a lively morning. After days of heavy rainfall, those of high social class were eager to get out and meet under the gentle sun of spring, whose glare reflected on the precious stones of their jewellery; while those of low, out of necessity, couldn’t wait to reopen their businesses or set up their stalls and get back to work. You liked to eye them all as you strolled the streets of Rome.

“To whom?”

“Your friend Taehyung.”

“Agh… How much is that prick paying you?”

The point of the matter was that it was bustling, some colliding if they looked away from where they were going for more than a breath. It worked in your favour for it was then easier to make yourself scarce right after stealing bags of coins, such as those of the three men seemingly bargaining by a workshop’s entrance out of which a large block of marble was being dragged. Perfect.

“Three ducats.”

“Three?! He’s robbing you of two ducats. I’ll pay you the five it’s worth.”

You kept your head low as you approached the pair that seemed wealthier and with those stealthy hands of yours unfastened the bags tied to their belts. After all, pickpocketing was a skill you’d had under your own for some years now, so this was bound to go smoothly.

Because you didn’t realise there was a guardian with them, perhaps you’d grown arrogant.

“I’m sorry, maestro. It’s reserved.”

“But it’ll become a waste in his possession!”

As you slipped away into the crowd, mouth watering at the fresh-baked bread you were going to devour as soon as bought, this brown dog leaped up at you out of nowhere, ignoring your desperate efforts to shake him off. If anything, they caused him to bark.

No, no, no…

The three men turned to the scene playing out not so far, and thinking his dog was bothering you one of them shouted, “Bam, come here, boy!” but as he obediently ran to his owner, you were too slow to hide the bags in your hands. It only took the pair a second to make them out, check whether theirs still hung on their belts, find them not, work out you’d stolen them, look back up, and find you not either.

Of course, you’d made your escape by then, dived into the sea of people and swum through them as quickly as possible, only stopping when you reached an empty vaulted alley to catch your breath.

That was ridiculously close. If you weren’t more careful next–

Your train of thought was interrupted by someone grabbing you by the arm from behind and pushing you against the nearest wall. A grunt accompanied the thud, and a gasp followed at the sight of the two men from before—dog included. Pinned in place, it’d be a bad idea to fight back or attempt to run away again. Fuck’s sake.

“Do you know what happens to thieves?” the one cornering you asked so close that when the cold breeze rustled his hair, some strands grazed your face. You looked away to avoid the tickling rather than out of fear, or so you wanted to believe. “They have a hand cut off. Seems fair, doesn’t it, Jimin?”

By contrast, that Jimin didn’t look intimidating, otherwise still catching his breath from the chase, but he did snatch the coin bags from your hands. “It doesn’t have to be so, maestro. We got our money back. She’s… just a girl.”

“And that exempts her of crime?”

“Please, don’t report me,” you begged, humiliating as though it was.

“Why shouldn’t we?” the maestro scoffed. Maestro… You were being threatened by a damned craftsman, the other one probably his assistant.

“Because I don’t want to lose a hand?”

“Oh, but we wanted to lose money, did we?” You rolled your eyes, and he released his grip only to step away. “Take us to your father, brat. He’ll answer for you.”

It took you a moment to respond, “I don’t have a father, or anyone... Only I can answer for my actions.”

“You’re a beggar?” Jimin asked, taking pity as he studied your appearance for the first time. Dishevelled hair, tattered dress, unpleasant smell… Yes, they should’ve guessed.

“She doesn’t beg, though, does she? She steals.”

“Only from cunts.”

His head snapped to meet your glare, and Jimin laughed, “You seem to not know whom you speak to.” He could be Jesus for all you cared. Uninterested, you petted the dog, Bam, seeing as he’d leapt up at you again. “This is Jeon Jungkook.”

You froze. The Jeon Jungkook? The famous artist who painted and sculpted for the Pope? Whom faraway kings and even emperors commissioned? The one whose genius was said to be changing the world?

At the lack of attention, Bam returned to his master, and that snapped you out of your shock to ask, “Then why do you whine?” The two men frowned, having clearly expected an apology paired with the usual bootlicking. “As if you need that bag more than I!”

“What nerve,” he scoffed again, making you wince by grabbing your arm tighter than before and starting to drag you into the next street. “You’re going straight to the authorities!”

“Wait,” Jimin intervened, thank God. “Weren’t you in need of a servant, maestro?”

“So?”

Jimin pointed at you with his gaze as though it was obvious. “You’re in need of a servant, she’s in need of a roof.”

“I would rather have a hand cut off.”

“I would rather have her hand cut off too.”

Jungkook tried to resume dragging you, but Jimin blocked his way with a soft smile. “What’s your name?”

“Y/N…”

“Do you know how to take care of a household?” Slowly, you nodded, melancholy engulfing you at the memory of cooking or sweeping the floor with your mother once upon a time. Somehow, she always found a way to make chores fun... “Then you qualify for the job. You’ll have three meals a day and a bed to sleep on. And you, maestro, a servant who’ll work her hardest, lest you fire her and she ends up in the streets again.”

Both you and Jungkook reluctantly glanced at each other. Truth be told, you didn’t prefer losing a hand to living with him, you just didn’t like him. Despite being a celebrity, he was a stranger. It just wouldn’t work.

But then, why were you holding your breath, hoping he’d accept?

“We shouldn’t have left Namjoon’s workshop. The marble is about to be delivered,” he said walking away. The air left your lungs in disappointment. It seemed you were to remain a stray cat. Jimin pressed his plump lips apologetically as he gave you enough coins to buy that bread, and you nodded, grateful all the same for his trying. You watched him rush to Jungkook’s side but when this one saw him, he turned around. “Hurry up, brat. If Taehyung gets that block of marble, I’ll not take you in.”

Since the first day, you could attest to Jeon Jungkook’s nature being as rough and uncouth as the rumours claimed, and after living alone with him for two months still believed gossip such as that he’d got the scar on his left cheek in a tavern fight—in which, if you’d chanced to be present, you would’ve rooted for the other individual.

It appeared it wasn’t just others Jungkook was harsh to. However rich his talent had turned him, he behaved like a poor man, consuming food and drink sparingly and out of necessity instead of pleasure, spending only the money required to live decently, sleeping little in order to work on commissions from dawn to midnight…

Why he chose to take little care of himself was a mystery to someone who previously had not been allowed a choice, even if putting work before all was in order to thwart Kim Taehyung’s plans of ruining his career, as he claimed. You doubted his rival was obsessed with him so, but had learned to agree with whatever Jungkook grumbled to avoid disputes. Most times.

Deep down, you had a feeling your boldness amused him. Who else dared get on his nerves?

“I think all you artists fluttering around the Pope are no more than slaves to money,” you let drop once while making his bed. Bam was sleeping peacefully under the window, while Jungkook leaning against the door’s frame behind you, offended to the core. He could help, you thought, or at least loosen my corset a little…

“I, a slave? I’ll be damned… There is an angel inside every block of marble, and I’ll have you know I carve to set it free.”

“Is it the angel that charges the Pope, then, master?” You could feel him barely restraining the urge to throw you out the window, smiled as you finished smoothing out the blankets.

“You missed a wrinkle there.”

Hands on your hips and frown on your brows, you examined the neatly arranged coverings of his bed. “Where?”

“On your face,” he muttered before making his leave.

Not his finest jibe, but the metaphor did stay with you. An angel inside the marble… It perhaps applied to Jungkook himself, though you’d never tell him.

One instance it came to mind was recently, when his assistants and apprentices were invited over for dinner.

Usually, he’d tell you which meals he liked and you’d ask at the marketplace which ingredients to buy, but now that about ten meals were to be cooked a list was needed. So there he sat on his desk in his study, inking said list as you waited in front of him, fiddling with the undershirt that peeked out of your dress’ sleeves. Given that your eyes were fixed on it, you only learned Jungkook was done when the sound of his quill scratching the paper ceased.

“Be back no later than dusk,” he ordered, “I bet there are still Germans and Spaniards lurking about.”

A year had passed since the Sack of Rome, but the mention of it sent a shiver of fear down your spine. Whatever the political reasons for it, you hated everyone involved, for Hell itself would’ve been a more beautiful sight to behold those nine months when the Tiber’s waters remained painted red…

You were lucky to make it through. Your family wasn’t.

“Yes, master.”

“Here,” he said handing you the paper, then picked another letter from a pile of correspondence he’d been going through before your arrival. Jungkook was about to snap its wax seal when he looked up to realise you hadn’t moved an inch. “Why are you here? Away with you!” He saw the reason in the way you avoided eye contact. “You can’t read, can you?” Met with a silence charged with embarrassment, he leaned back in his chair and sighed, “Give me the list.”

Getting hold of the quill again, Jungkook began… doodling?

You tilted your head but couldn’t see well what he was drawing until he finished and returned the list to you. Then, your lips parted. Each item on the list was illustrated next to its name: ten loaves of bread, a jug of wine, tortellini, four anchovies, two fennel soups…

“I’ll teach you to read when I have time. This will do for now.”

“You’d do that?” For me?

Jungkook ignored you, before he went back to reading his letters complimenting the good gesture with an irritated, “Hurry up.”

That night his co-workers arrived one by one, Jimin the first. The sight of him when you opened the door brightened up your mood.

Unlike a certain someone he was always sweet to you, genuinely interested to know how you fared even if you were just a servant. He claimed that mattered not to him, that you were both commoners and thus equals.

“Look at this place, it’s spotless! And you know I’m furtive, so I won’t get in your way,” you told Jimin as you escorted him through a hallway, bright from the torches hung on the walls that you’d lit up earlier.

He laughed, “I cannot make you my servant, Y/N, you’re maestro’s.”

“But he’s going to drive me mad… To tell you one of many examples, he often falls asleep in his clothes, and who but I is to take his boots off so they don’t get the sheets dirty? If the chalk on his fingers or the dust from the chiseling on his hair won’t already. Bam is far cleaner…”

Jungkook had a workshop he barely set foot in, preferred his team made use of it instead to not be bothered by their idiocy. His words. So it was in a chamber on the ground floor of this house he gave way to artistic insanity. In your book, that meant constant cleaning.

Jimin looked at you fondly. “Sounds nightmarish.”

“It truly is!”

As soon as the two of you entered the dining hall, Bam ran from Jungkook’s side by the fireplace to Jimin, who was as excited to see him.

“Good night, maes–”

“Do you think I’m deaf, ungrateful brat?” Jungkook interrupted him to bark at you. “Rome is full of people begging to get a piece of me, so if you don’t like it here, I’ll just get someone else!”

“You say that and yet keep me like a prisoner!”

“As if you don’t have it better here than anywhere you’ve burdened with your presence before!”

“There, there…” Jimin interjected to de-escalate, kneeling to better stroke Bam. “Maestro, I’ve seen your latest sketch of the Virgin and Child. She resembles Y/N.”

Both you and Jungkook failed to fight off the embarrassment, gazes unable to find a place to settle. Sitting down on the large table, he explained, “It was just one time… I had used Yoongi as a model, but the Madonna looked too masculine... and rather than going through the trouble of finding some girl and hiring her, I had Y/N pose for me… So what! Why bring it up out of nowhere…”

“Because maybe you just need a bit of distance from time to time. With permission, I too would have Y/N pose for m–”

“Absolutely not.”

“Now, why the hell not?” you groaned stamping your foot, startling poor Bam. Hope had been born inside you in a second and cruelly crushed in the next.

“Because I say so. And watch your tone with me.” As usual, the mutual glaring would trick anyone into thinking the next step would be murder. Jimin, who knelt there awkwardly, certainly thought so, at least until the bell rang. “Now go answer the door!”

What happened later, though, rendered the fury Jungkook had evoked in your heart nonexistent and instead seized the thing in a clasp of distress.

In the morning, he walked in when you were sweeping the kitchen. At once you forced the sobs to stop and turned around so he wouldn’t see you wipe your tears.

“It’s past nine, where’s breakfast?” he asked in shock that you hadn’t even started making it, the table there empty.

You swore under your breath before leaving the broomstick leaning against the nearest wall, flushed face kept out of Jungkook’s sight, then in a haste fetched a plate, a knife, and a leftover bread loaf. “Apologies, master, I forgot. I’ll be upstairs in a minute.”

Sniffling betrayed you, at which Jungkook frowned. “Are you crying?”

Great, the question just about especially designed to make one well up. Not trusting your voice anymore, you shook your head. Jungkook approached, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look away from the task at hand, now cutting a few slices of the bread.

“Have you broken something?” You shook your head again, the suppressed sobs making your chin tremble. Jungkook took a deep breath before asking with a surprisingly soothing tone, “Then what’s wrong?”

“You won’t believe me.”

“Try me.”

Within an hour, he’d summoned a meeting consisting of all who’d attended dinner the previous night.

A seemingly calm Jungkook was sat at the head of the table, elbows sunk on it and fingers interlocked. You stood behind him, head still low out of shame. A tense silence had fallen in the chamber some time ago, and sick of it, Jimin shattered it.

“Have you anything to tell us, maestro?”

“I was waiting for Biagio to do so.”

The man was one of Jungkook’s favourite assistants who had worked with him for years, even longer than Jimin. And if it was possible for your position to be trickier, he belonged to some noble family.

“Me? But I’ve nothing to say, maestro.”

Jungkook leaned back in his chair. “My servant will, then. Y/N?”

Bastard. If you are going to fire me, why make me go through this?

“Last night, w-when I left this hall to go refill the wine jug… Messer Biagio followed me into the kitchen, and… h-he trapped me from behind, and started t-to touch me…” Your vision soon blurred, hence why you couldn’t see clearly how concerned Jimin was for you, or how Biagio jumped up in outrage. “I managed to push him away, and ran upst–”

“How dare you slander me, wench? Maestro, you do not believe this!”

“Do I not?”

“She’s lying! I caught her stealing sketches from your study, likely to sell them, so she’s trying to get rid of me!”

You almost scoffed. Only an idiot would choose the one occasion guests had come over and her absence would be noticed to carry out a theft.

Jungkook tilted his head. “I thought you had nothing to say. Why would you keep such a thing just now?”

Biagio gulped. “I deemed it best to mention it later, in private... You won’t believe a pickpocket before an old friend, will you?”

Silence returned, your breath still as you saw all the assistants and apprentices visibly take pity on him. The only one who didn’t was Jimin, but even on his face there was a hint of hesitation. Jungkook’s, you couldn’t see from behind, but after an eternity he stood up and walked over only to put a hand on the shoulder of Biagio, who smiled in relief.

A quiet sob broke through your lips, heart sinking. You’d needed Jungkook to believe you in this. Not because of the consequences his protection as your master could save you from, but because, like it or not… he was the closest thing to family you had.

It turned out he did believe you, judging by the punch landed on Biagio’s jaw out of nowhere. And the next one on his cheekbone, and on his nose. Before everyone around the table had barely stood up to stop Jungkook, he’d already thrown Biagio down and straddled him, pulling his doublet’s collar in a close, tight grip as he continued beating him up. Blood was drawn, but for once, you didn’t mind having to scrub it later.

Jungkook’s influence trumped a whole noble house’s, you learned in the course of the months Biagio tried his mightiest and failed most miserably to have him arrested. Perhaps because of the Pope sitting on his shoulder.

That he’d taken your side was still hard to believe, all he’d grumbled with a shrug when you thanked him while tending to his wounds from the fight being, “I’d been waiting for the chance. I always thought Biagio was a weasel.”

With the matter resolved, life returned to normal—well, whatever that meant in Jeon Jungkook’s household. Because calling for you at the top of his lungs like a madman was not normal. The first time he’d done it you’d raced downstairs, afraid something horrible had happened, only for him to have you close a window as it was getting chilly. Devil rot him. You rushed no longer after that, much to his complaints.

Today, he didn’t notice right away when you appeared under the cased opening, and good thing he didn’t, for he was polishing a bust with sandpaper… shirtless.

Product of hours carving stone into his desired shape or occasionally beating someone up, he could brag of having muscles, which the current task had covered in a layer of sweat and dust. The way they flexed with each movement had you compelled, wanting to reach out, feel if his skin was as hot as the blood pumping through your veins faster and faster. Then your gaze moved to the bust and whatever spell you were under broke.

Hardly an angel was that widowed noblewoman, whom you wished had stayed trapped inside a block of marble. Her name was Madonna Maddalena, and she’d come some weeks past to make a commission covered in pearls, gold, and boldness.

“My friends refused to accompany me today. You’re said to be… disagreeable, which I’m sure is untrue. However, all of them do want to know if you’re as fine-looking as is also rumoured, maestro” she told Jungkook within minutes of meeting him, still by the entrance!

Now you can tell them he’s not, you bit your tongue before it remarked, as this wasn’t Jimin but a patron not to be scared away by your bickering. It wouldn’t be true anyway. All your master lacked in manners, he made up for with looks… Which you’d never say out loud. You’d never say either that he looked even better when irked.

“I’ve heard many rumours about myself, most of them nonsense. My appearance was involved in none.”

She smiled seductively. “I suppose I’ll have to be the one to spread them.”

“The weather is pleasant today,” Jungkook changed the subject, flustered beneath the formal demeanour. “Shall we have wine in the garden?” You left to prepare it not before catching Maddalena raise her brow at you in disapproval. She must’ve been able to tell you thought she was a pompous cunt.

The beautiful flowers you cared for tried their best outside, but the air didn’t get any better.

Sat around a small table, Maddalena explained she wanted a bust of herself by his talented hand to decorate the main hall of her palazzo. You served them wine, not really listening until Jungkook started playing hard to get. The hundred times you’d told him it wasn’t a good tactic to make his labour out to be too prestigious had apparently fallen on deaf ears.

“Any other artist could carry this out, Madonna. I am working for the Pope these days…” he subtly scolded her, a mere mortal, for wasting his precious time. And he wondered why he had a reputation for being arrogant.

Maddalena put his thoughts into plain words, “So why should you stoop to taking commissions from an insignificant widow?”

“Correct,” you said under your breath, luckily heard by none from the background, where you stood holding a wine jug until the madonna raised her cup and you approached to refill it.

“It is then fortunate I’m to marry a nephew of the Pope’s.”

Swayed by her future influence, Jungkook smiled back. “So it is.”

“But not for another week. ‘Till then, I belong to no man.” The suggestion in her tone almost drove you to spill wine all over her. No, better yet: order Bam to sic on her. He’d do it.

Just, who did this woman think she was? And why did Jungkook not kick her out right afterwards? It made you wonder whether he’d enjoyed the flirtation. Whether he would’ve been the one to take things further had his inconvenient servant not been present. It was common for men to have affairs and lovers, but it didn’t sit well with you that Jungkook might. Not that you ever imagined him doing any of that, for goodness’ sake–

“What took you so long?”

Jungkook’s voice brought you back to the present, under the cased opening.

“I was lazing about, as always,” you quoted his favourite false reprimand, making him roll his eyes, your own dropping to the floor when he walked closer.

“In that case, prepare a bath for me.”

“Yes, master.”

You sighed at all the work ahead. That being a servant was worlds better than living in the streets didn’t mean you looked forward to collecting gallons of water from a well, carrying them back, heating them, transferring them to a tub, then washing Jungkook—because you did wash him.

Biagio had hurt his left shoulder bad and ever since, he’d needed assistance in certain activities. Curious how he could otherwise chisel a goddamned bust without problem.

Jungkook’s full nudity only made you blush if you stopped scrubbing, so knelt with tucked up sleeves before the wooden tub he was reclined on, scrubbing away the dirt on his skin with lavender-scented soap you were. Maybe all the stupid feelings you’d been suffering lately stemmed from there…

Head resting on the edge, he was exhausted from the long day of work, taking your rubbing as a relaxing massage. You, however, couldn’t ignore the stinging guilt, what with the scar on his shoulder right in front of your face. He probably felt your breathing on it.

“I’m sorry you got hurt…”

Jungkook fought heavy lids only to see you avoid him. Allowing yourself to be vulnerable in front of him was embarrassing, as when he’d caught you crying, but he didn’t take advantage of the fact to humiliate you. Jungkook may be an ogre, but he wasn’t cruel.

“I’ve received worse for less,” he assured you in a calm, low voice. It sounded soothing to your ears.

“That, I don’t doubt,” you scoffed, glancing at his other scar on the cheek. “Did you also get that one in defence of some lady?”

“You’re nowhere close to a lady.” It could be done, you mused. Drowning him. “This was courtesy of my brother.”

“You have a brother?” It dawned on you how little you knew of him. Surely, most had heard it all about the divine Jeon Jungkook, but you’d never cared enough to learn past the shell of gossip, even after months of living with him. In fairness, he’d never asked about you either. You preferred it that way.

“Brothers,” he corrected you. “The one who did this to me was a wayward fool. Had to teach him a lesson.”

“Looks like he taught one to you.”

“I left with a scratch, he with a limp.” The conception of two brothers hurting each other so harshly widened your eyes for a second, and Jungkook noticed, for he added, “He was whoring around, wasting the money I worked hard to send, bullying our other brothers as well.”

Much made sense about Jungkook all of a sudden. Not his personality, that was incomprehensible. But why he killed himself to earn money and yet barely spent it… He had a family to provide for. Once again, you were reminded of his metaphor. Could an angel be in there?

Carrying on washing Jungkook, you dragged the sponge over to his neck. Then his collarbones, his chest, his abs just peaking above the water... They did look like a sculpture’s, especially wet and soaped, reminiscent of polished marble when the light of the torches reflected on them. Swallowing hard, the back of your fingers gingerly graced Jungkook’s muscles, both soft and firm. Slippery. Whatever possessed you to keep feeling them, you lacked the will to expel from your body, and so without realising your grip on the sponge loosened until it fell to float away, fingertips now free to roam over his abs.

You were slowly trailing downwards, past the water’s surface, when your wrist was seized and held in the air in a warning manner, the startle almost making you scream.

Sat upright, Jungkook was glaring at you so fiercely you feared for your life. But he didn’t say anything and instead just breathed hard, jaw clenched… almost as if he was holding back. Your rising heartbeat was deafening in the silence waiting for something to happen, anything, but what did wasn’t what a side of you anticipated with excitement.

Jungkook just let go of your wrist and returned to his previous position, and you got hold of the sponge and finished washing him, albeit holding your breath the entire time.

Days later, you came dangerously close to being fired.

The Pope had summoned Jungkook—something about a portrait commission—and you were to carry his bag filled with sketches for him due to his shoulder injury. As you navigated the ever-busy streets of Rome with him, the cold autumn breeze made you regret not putting on an overgown. The cioppa you’d bought with your own salary and not stolen. It brought a smile to your lips that faded at the realisation your mother would’ve reminded you to put it on before going out.

The sorrow pestering you turned to confusion when Jungkook stopped walking and tsked, telling you loud enough to be heard by all, “Look at him, the chief of police, with such an assemblage.”

A well-dressed man and what appeared to be his entourage walked in your direction, halting near enough. You didn’t have to ask to know this was his rival, the renowned painter Kim Taehyung.

“Whereas you, like an executioner, walk alone,” he mocked Jungkook, then noticed you standing behind him like a timid child. “Not completely, my mistake. Maestro, where in your barren soil did you plant such a flower?” He walked over to you, intentionally bumping Jungkook’s wounded shoulder as he passed, causing him to grunt lowly. From up close one was bound to marvel at how handsome Taehyung was, but you didn’t need proximity to tell he was a prick. Miles away, you would’ve known. “Why don’t you come work for me, flower? I’ll make you my muse.”

Jungkook scoffed again, “What, for your horseshit paintings? She’d be a fool to.”

Taehyung turned around to face him, feigning confusion with a smile. “But, maestro, how could they be so if you were once heard saying that all I have in art, I got from you?”

"You naturally have to resort to plagiarising my master’s genius if all you do is horseshit,” you countered, earning surprised looks from every man present, some laughs too, you were proud to say. Jungkook was certainly smirking. Taehyung opened his mouth, but you walked past him uninterested before a response came out of it.

“Good girl,” Jungkook laughed while leaving the crime scene, and for some reason your cheeks burned hot.

The incident happened once inside the Vatican.

Its grandiose corridors alone made you feel small, too unimportant to walk them, whereas Jungkook did so with determination, knowing he belonged at the top of the world. What with your tempestuous relationship, it was easy to forget he was famous throughout Europe. His feet would still never be kissed by you. Someone had to humble the man, right?

At some point the two of you arrived at a door flanked by guards, and averse, you grabbed the sleeve of Jungkook’s doublet.

“Do I have to go in?”

“Too good for the Pope, are you?” He shook you off. “Come on.”

“Damn you…” you muttered.

“What did you just say to me?”

“After you, master.”

Telling himself he’d be late if he scolded you, Jungkook turned and nodded at the guards, who opened the door of a chamber whose walls were frescoed with angels and saints, likely by Taehyung, giving off the impression one was in Heaven. When you saw him sat on a golden chair, old and grey, enjoying the tune of a lute player, you felt as though you’d just entered Hell.

The audience lasted for ever. While you stood by the door, Jungkook showed the Pope some sketches of the portrait for him to choose his favourite and then they talked and talked of politics. All you could do was fix your gaze somewhere on the floor and sigh.

“Yes, Your Holiness, this is the servant I mentioned…” A frown proceeded your looking up to see Jungkook somewhat embarrassed, scratching his nose as if to hide his face. He talked of you to others? Doubtless to complain…

With a sweet voice as if he was talking to a little girl, the Pope asked you, “What is your name?”

“None of your business, Your Holiness.”

The musician’s tune ceased abruptly, allowing Jungkook’s faint gasp to be heard. Then fell a short silence spent by the Pope blinking, taken aback. “I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me.”

Jungkook was quick to fake a laugh, though sweat formed at his temples. “A jest! She meant no offence, Your Holiness, but to make you laugh.”

You held the Pope’s glare in defiance, indifferent to the fact he was the most powerful man in the whole of Christendom.

By some miracle, he let it go, and you left that chamber minutes later with your head as yet attached to your body. Your arm wouldn’t be for much longer, though, given Jungkook was forcibly dragging you all the way out to the streets, pushing you into the first alley he saw.

“Are you out of your mind?!” he shouted, towering over you menacingly. Unlike the day you’d met, you weren’t scared, rather furious as him as you stood your ground. “That was the Pope, you fool!”

“So?”

Jungkook was in utter disbelief. “He could’ve ordered your execution– mine too!”

“Well, nothing happened!”

“Nothing?! I’m sure to fall out of favour!” He paced around, anxiety quickening his breath. “Years of pouring my soul into my craft, of grovelling before the right people, all thrown away! Good God, your attitude may cost me everything…”

“And what about me?! Everything lost to me does not matter?!”

Jungkook stopped to frown. “What the hell are you talking about?”

It was now you who walked up to him. “I didn’t have a job, or a reputation, or admirers. I had only a family, and I never wished for anything else! That monster you work for took them from me. When the foreigners’ armies came and everyone rushed to Castel Sant’Angelo, he gave the order to close the gates as soon as he was safe behind them! You must have been there with him, weren’t you? Well, we weren’t. We were left outside to be slaughtered. And I wish I had been, like my parents, so I didn’t have to suffer the likes of you any longer!”

Tears were streaming down your face by the end, Jungkook just staring back at you. It didn’t surprise him that your parents were dead or that they’d been killed during the Sack, but that it was so deep a wound left festering in your heart that you didn’t mind being put out of misery. He surmised your disrespectful behaviour towards him was also fruit of your pain, especially if you deemed him an ally of the one who caused it.

“The few things I own… They’re wasted on me. Throw them away or give them to your next servant,” you sobbed, taking for granted you were fired. Anyone with half a brain would indeed have you dismissed, and part of you knew it was bound to happen, that you would go back to breaking in fucking churches to spend the night.

So you turned around into the main street, set on wandering until your legs became too sore not to collapse. With any luck, a carriage would run over you. But warmth then surrounded your hand, and you looked down to see Jungkook’s holding it tight enough to force you to halt. Though still mad, a hint of compassion sparkled in his eyes.

“Let’s… Let us just go home.”

Home. His house had felt so for a while now, truth be told. Himself too.

After that, you non-verbally agreed on a ceasefire—avoiding quarrels, that is, which was quite the task for both.

Such as now that Jungkook had you inking down a letter in his name. First of all, did you look like a scribe? If you’d known in advance the lazy arse would teach you to read and write for this, you’d have chosen to remain illiterate. And second, this was your short break before making dinner, intended to be spent playing with Bam. The poor thing was also in the study, at least being stroked by his owner, who was sat beside you on the desk.

“… I send you my regards, may God keep you from all harm. Jeon Jungkook in Rome,” he finally finished dictating, and you recording. “Give it to me, I’ll seal it.”

He was melting the wax with which to do so when the bell rang, to his surprise. Sighing, you stood up and went to open the door to whom turned out to be Jimin. The sight of him brightened you up, and yours stretched his lips into a smile.

“Evening, Y/N.”

“Good evening! I didn’t know the master was expecting you.”

“He isn’t…” You welcomed him in, brows joining at how he continuously chewed on his aforementioned lip and breathed deep through his nose as he followed you. Had something happened…? A decision to eavesdrop was made en route to the study.

Though Jimin requested for you to stay once there, and nothing could have prepared you for the reason why.

“This actually concerns Y/N…” You and Jungkook exchanged confused looks, him leaning against the desk and crossing arms as though he didn’t like the sound of that. Jimin fixed his already perfect clothes before addressing him, “I’ve come to ask for her hand in marriage.” Your jaw dropped. “I know it’s sudden at the lack of previous courtship, but I thought I should ask for your permission before engaging in it, maestro. She’s a lovely girl… and I think she’d be happy as my wife. Worry not, I won’t ask for a dowry or for her to stop working… Although on second thought, fewer hours of service would be ideal.”

This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be happening.

Jungkook must be thinking the same, for he squinted to ask, “Are you drunk?”

“N-No, of course not.”

“Are you sure? You want to marry a servant with little to her name.” He had a point, so you weren’t offended. If politics weren’t the reason for a union, did this mean… Jimin had feelings for you?

“Maestro, you say it as if I were a lord,” he chuckled. “I don’t care about Y/N’s possessions, I’ll provide for her anyway. I’ve… always been fond of her. And I dare say she shares the sentiment.”

Betrayal hid safely behind a look that asked if there was any truth to that. Obviously not! There was no romance in your own fondness for Jimin. If anything, you had thought he saw you as a younger sister to look after, therefore as a protective older brother you saw him. But so shocked were you still that no words managed to come out, and Jungkook’s gaze shifted back to Jimin.

“I’ll think about it. You may go.”

A curt tone was the norm for Jungkook, it was not being granted his blessing that disappointed Jimin. He knew for a fact he was an honourable man, so why wouldn't he entrust you to him?

“Quite well… I’ll show myself out.” he uttered, before making his leave failing to hide his low spirit by giving you one last shy smile you hadn’t the heart to return.

An awkward silence filled the air that even Bam daren’t break. Only once the front door was heard shutting did you walk closer to Jungkook.

“You won’t agree to this, will you?”

“Why shouldn’t I? I have to get rid of you at some point.”

“Rid of me? Like I’m a burden?” you asked, voice rising. How a servant could be so was unknown to you until, like wooden ship toys did when you’d submerge them in a bucket of water as a child, certain guesses surfaced in your thoughts. Trying to pickpocket him, the constant clashing, Biagio, that bath, the Pope… Yes, you may perhaps be described as a burden. But you didn’t want to leave. With a calmer tone, you pleaded, “I’ll behave from now on. I won’t cause any more trouble, I swear.”

Jungkook didn’t deign to look your way as he left, followed by Bam. “You have to marry at some point, Y/N. Otherwise people will gossip.”

Since when did he care about what people said of him? And why should you?

Winter having dropped its anchor, nightfall arrived early. Not early enough, you brooded as you cooked dinner, longing for the day to end once and for all. With any hope, all of this was a nightmare and upon waking up in the morning life would go back to normal. You didn’t even know why you wanted to stay with Jungkook, as the occasions in which you’d begged Jimin to employ you to leave this house were countless. The only certain thing was that you were upset.

Later, after washing all plates and cups, you began to put off all torches lighting the house, finding out in the hall that Jungkook hadn’t moved from the seat he’d dined in. You considered carrying on with your job and leaving him in the dark, but he wouldn’t find it as funny. Instead, you stood before him.

“Will that be all, master?”

The coldness in your expression made him sigh, “Y/N–”

“I shall retire, then.” You turned to leave but were made to stop in your tracks.

“It’s an advantageous proposal for you,” he lectured to whom he must believe an idiot. “Jimin works for me, he’s wealthy. A better match than you could ever aspire to. And he asks for no dowry because he doesn’t want money, he wants you…” His words were tainted with resentment. “He’ll take good care of you.”

Skirt of your dress swirling along, you faked a smile. “If you think so, master, then it must be so.”

He shook his head as he leaned back in defeat. “Suit yourself, but I won’t be the one to reject Jimin. You crush his heart.”

A laugh escaped you. “If you genuinely cared about him, you wouldn’t let him marry a woman in love with–” Oh no. It only hit you as you were saying it.

Jungkook had appeared annoyed, but now he was mad. “Who?” He stood up abruptly—chair’s feet scratching against the floor making you wince—and walked so close you were backed against the wall, face forced to turn to a side. In a low, deep voice, he repeated, less as a question and more as an order this time, “Who.”

There was no way in the nine circles of Hell you’d say it, when you didn’t want to believe it in the first place. For fuck’s sake, why? Jungkook only ever made you want to get away from him. That was the case right now, but then… why were your feet frozen?

Some unreasonable part of you seemed to have prevailed upon the others, casting away all resistance from your body and allowing yourself to indulge in Jungkook’s proximity. You met his eyes without fear, held his dark gaze. It didn’t take him long to work it out, yet he kept close, so close your unsteady breaths mingled, the effect akin to intoxication. He was visibly trying to hold back, telling himself it’d be a bad idea, but you prayed he wouldn’t care.

By God or the Devil, your prayers were heard.

Jungkook finally smashed his lips into yours, devouring them with a hunger you shared and felt growing as he gripped your waist to press you against him. A minute ago, you wouldn’t have imagined his tongue belonged inside your mouth, swirling around your own, and now you wanted it all over your body. As if reading your mind, Jungkook broke the ardent kiss to move down to your neck, which he licked painfully slowly before sucking hard, making you hiss with pleasure. He knew that would leave a mark, the bastard. You wondered if it was meant for Jimin, so he’d see you were Jungkook’s, and in such case you didn’t mind, let your eyelids close to enjoy it.

Steered by the lust possessing you, one hand grabbed his soft hair in a fistful, keeping his head in place where he was sweetly abusing your neck, while the other travelled southwards until it reached his crotch and held it over the trousers, feeling his cock stiffen. Jungkook groaned—a vibration to your skin—in retaliation lifting your skirt. You’d thought he'd take his time, tease you, but after ensuring you were wet enough by gliding his middle finger along your core, he slid it inside and began making beckoning motions.

“Master…” you moaned, legs shaking. Jungkook forsook your neck to pull back, watch how you struggled to keep it together as he added another finger, curling and uncurling them both, hitting all the right places, and unwilling to give him that satisfaction without consequences you groped his erection with the same vigour. Although he was in good control of his expression, his breath quivered against your lips, so he kissed them again, biting hard into your lower one.

He exhaled, “You’re driving me to sin…”

Indeed, the same fingers that held the brushes when he painted religious artwork were buried deep inside your cunt, bringing you the most sinful ecstasy. It made you chuckle. Jungkook took that as the mockery it was and, crossed, pulled his fingers out of you to drag you by the arm to the edge of the table, where he had you sit. Without delay he lifted your skirt again, only this time he also pulled down his trousers to reveal his cock, thick and throbbing, which he pumped as he watched you spread your legs eagerly, ready to take all of him.

With his free hand Jungkook cupped your cheek, thumb caressing your lower lip, coated with saliva and reddened still from when he’d bit it. He could sense your desire, that you craved him inside, had for a while. Desperately. And however much tempted he was to make you beg for it, his own arousal led his cock to your entrance and eased it inside already, another groan hitting the back of his bared teeth. You didn’t have time to gasp, his thrusts so quick they earned only moans, so wonderful did it feel.

Jungkook’s hand on your cheek then wrapped around your neck. “Do you know how often I’ve fantasised strangling you?”

You chuckled again as you slapped him across the face. Jungkook halted his movements in shock, glared at you. “And I slapping you?”

It took him a moment, but he scoffed and pushed you back so that you were lying down, climbing next atop you, confident that the wooden table was sturdy enough to hold both. So legs hooked around his torso and arms around his neck, you welcomed his thrusts, rough enough to make your eyes water. But it felt heavenly, how he ravished you... The mutual irritation and tension building up for over half a year translated into indescribable pleasure.

He kissed you again, flicking his tongue against yours as he pounded into you without mercy. Overwhelmed by the sensation, all you could do to express you were nearing your limit was sink your nails into Jungkook’s biceps at each side of you, moan inside his mouth. He took the hint and fucked you as fast as his body would allow, within mere seconds your walls clenching tight around him. The sight of you collapsing under him, overcome with bliss, made him reach his own highest shortly, spurting his warm seed inside you.

As his movements gradually ceased, so did your panting. Before a complete silence fell, you asked, “Am I still to marry Jimin?”

Jungkook grabbed your face and growled against your pouted lips, “You’re not going anywhere.”

#bts au #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #bts jungkook #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #bts #bts x reader #bts fanfiction #bts scenarios #bangtan imagine #bts smut #jeon jungkook scenarios #bts fic #jeongguk #bangtan #bts x you

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couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name · 8 months

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random percy headcanons:

wants to be the photographer friend SO bad and he technically is but like 70% of the pics come out blurry or weird bc there was a monster attack in the middle of them. his instagram is truly so chaotic looking.

literally always has seashells on him someone will ask him for a pencil or spare change and he has to empty all his pockets of shells to find it. drops his backpack and a bunch of shells fall out. kicks his shoes off and sand and shells fly out and his mortal friends are like percy What the Fuck

his eyes glow underwater!! bioluminescent king. no one told him though and he didn't find out until he joined his school's swim team and terrified everyone (he managed to convince them his contacts were having a weird reaction to chlorine lmao)

he really likes art!! he doesn't just pretend to for rachel's sake he genuinely enjoys painting with her. he likes splatter paint, collages and pop art styles the best. one day after splitting some edibles they realized percy could manipulate water colors and went CRAZY with it

will ask to be excused during class and comes back like an hour later with scorch marks all over his face bleeding from one of his ears covered in dust missing three fingernails rips in his jeans and a fat lip and the teacher is like percy what the actual hell were you doing in the bathroom all this time and he's just like uhhhhhh I have ibs

the brand from camp jupiter did unfortunately (for sally) Unlock something in him lmfao he keeps getting shitty little tattoos. usually stick-n-poke but someone's friends cousin's girlfriend's brother has a gun that gets brought to parties every now and then. most of them are sloppy but you can tell what they are HOWEVER he has one that was supposed to be a seal that came out looking like one of those shitty ms paint crying memes. annabeth laughed at him for ten minutes straight when she saw it.

he wanted to dye his hair blue but he was too chicken to bleach his entire head so he just did the tips. his hair is curly though so it looks absolutely ridiculous but he loves it

percy and annabeth get a crusty little yappy white dog in college and he carries it around like a baby lmao

back to his chaotic instagram, he's got so many pics of him like, relaxing at the bottom of the mariana trench or hugging a giant squid or riding on a whale shark and his mortal friends all think he's just really good at photoshop and this is a very specific bit he decided to commit to. they're always like lol percy where do you even FIND these pictures are you subscribed to like scientific journals for the laughs? but no he just took them all on his shell phone

has an ongoing prank war with annabeth's little brothers bobby and matthew but like it's Unhinged. they're playing 5D chess and she has no idea whats going on

weird tshirts!!! he loves them! like

shit like this or those 'women want me fish fear me' shirts, anything with a funny or incomprehensible slogan is going in his closet right along with his band tees lmfao

bought estelle a panda pillow pet when she was born 🥺

can NOT bring himself to eat seafood no matter how many times poseidon has told him its fine. he's like NO these are my FRIENDS JONATHAN WAS TELLING ME ABOUT HIS GRANDDAUGHTERS WEDDING LITERALLY YESTERDAY WHY IS HE ON A PLATTER DAD. they had to give up and just start eating normal land food at the palace every time he comes to visit lmfao

gets into horsegirl antics with hazel she NEEDS to know everything the horses have to say. they spend hours gossiping in the stables.

movie nights in the poseidon cabin were 10000% a thing and when he was missing annabeth and thalia and grover (and a few others) would still sleep in there every now and then and talk about how much they miss him :(

percy and beckendorf had the worlds most elaborate handshake

he DOES impulse buy stuff just because they're ocean-themed. stuffed animals, home decor, school supplies, clothes, you name it he bought it if theres like a fish on it

has more scars from crashing off his skateboard than he does from monster attacks

grover is somehow the only person who's ever noticed percy is severely claustrophobic

has a deep passion for adele. I can't explain this one I just feel and know it to be true.

he and annabeth both proposed to each other at the same time and they were SO mad about it they kept yelling over each other's speeches lmao

he can SING but he doesn't know it. sally keeps trying to record him singing to himself but something always happens to the camera and she loses the evidence

called chiron a brony one time and mr d thought it was so funny he was nice to percy for an entire week

the camp keeps trying to convince him to teach sword fighting lessons to the younger kids but he can NOT bring himself to swing a sword at a 9 year old so he keeps getting injured

has the most complicated iced coffee order in the world his go-to local coffee shop finally just put the damn drink on the menu and named it after him

he IS the quiet kid in the back of your math class that always has his hood up to try and hide his headphones and eats increasingly elaborate meals out of his backpack when the teacher isn't looking. one time someone caught him with a rotisserie chicken in the middle of a geometry final.

he argued that he DID have enough to share with the class

currently obsessed with the image of him knocking back a container of sea salt as if it was a shot and his mortal friends being like hey! what the actual fuck! and he's just like uhhhhh anemia kills!

its his birthday<3

#percy jackson #pjo #hoo #toa #percabeth #molly mumbles

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talaok · 7 months

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Like a Virgin

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader

summary: It's been a really long time since Joel has felt the feel of anything else besides his own fist, and once you remind him how good the real thing is... let's just say it's hard for him to live up to his full potential.

warnings: smut| unprotected p in v sex, premature ejaculation, very touch-starved Joel, and allusion to oral sex (f receiving)

a/n: I don't know what to say lmao this is a thing for me ok, don't judge (and also you can't tell me this isn't accurate, like this man hasn't gotten laid since the moon landing probably, and you expect him to last? no way babe). Also I'm sorry about the title it's funny to me lol

Now this wasn't like him.

He hadn't done this in a long time.

The last time he had sex with a woman he'd just met (or any woman to be completely honest) he was 25 years younger and the world hadn't gone to shit yet... so yeah, a long time indeed.

But you were so fucking beautiful, such a pretty face with such pretty eyes, and god but that mouth of yours-

And plus you were new to Jackson, you didn't know yet about all the scary stories folks liked to tell about him, and you were kind and funny, and... did he mention hot already?

Just one night of letting loose, that's what he'd told himself, and then he was gonna go back to his old closed-off self, but for now... for now, he was too busy throwing you on his bed to think about anything else.

You were getting rid of your clothes and he followed your lead more than willingly, almost ripping the buttons off his flannel in the rush.

He bent down to kiss your neck as his hands hurried to your tits.

God, he'd forgotten how good it felt to touch a woman.

And when you let out a little whimper, he swore he had ascended to another universe.

"Joel please"

Fuck him, but he wasn't inside of you yet, and he was already feeling far too close to coming.

Guess fucking his own fist for two decades really does something to a man.

"need something?"

He was acting wayy too smug for someone who was feeling like a virgin all over again.

"Please- I need you inside me, Joel"

fucking damnit- he shouldn't have asked that, his dick was now really suffering the consequences.

He didn't risk saying anything else as he got rid of his boxers, but of course, you just had to come out and say:

"oh wow, you're big" with the sexiest fucking voice he'd ever heard.

"want me to stop?"

For some reason, those words elicited a criminally hot smirk on your lips

"Definitely not"

You were looking at him like a starving woman and he had to look down to where he was moving his tip to your entrance to get away from you and your dangerous, dangerous gaze

He pushed into you slowly and god fucking damnit but the sounds that you made... those sweet little moans and whines you let out as your warm pussy stretched around him and hugged him better than anything he'd felt in years... he had no words for it- no coherent sounds could make it out of his mouth except for a few groans coming deep from his chest.

"Good christ"

that's the only thing he managed to murmur as he bottomed out and had to take a break to try not to bust his load right there.

"fuck you feel so good" you moaned, as your hands gripped his sheets "please move" you begged, your voice breathy and pleading, and godfuck he should have really thought about it before doing this.

"Joel please-"

"I just need a moment darlin'" he explained, closing his eyes to try and remember how he used to manage to last and coming up completely empty.

He could feel your expectant eyes on him so even if he sure as hell didn't feel ready, he did as you asked and started to move.

The regret reached him extraordinarily fast as he felt your walls tightening around him and as you cried out for him like an angel sent straight from heaven.

"fuck-" you moaned, looking up at him with doe eyes that made him wonder if you really just knew what you were doing, if you actually enjoyed torturing him like this

"god you're so deep"

Yeah, you definitely knew

"and so big-" you cried

He gripped your waist to try and ground himself as he thrusted into your fucking perfect cunt.

"oh my god-yes!" you moaned, your back arching from the bed as his thrust got harsher in the hopes that that would make you talk less.

"just like that Joel- oh-"

And Joel was tough in a lot of ways and he wasn't one to give up easily, but shit you were making it hard for him.

"Please don't stop- fuckfuckfuck" you begged, shutting your eyes close at the feeling.

And that was it, he couldn't do it anymore

"please stop talking" he breathed, his eyes resuming their tour of your eyes, mouth, and bouncing tits.

"why?"

"nothing it's just-"

And before he could answer you had grabbed his shoulder and forced him to bend down to meet your mouth with his.

Goddamnit.

"you just feel too good Joel"

"fuck." he groaned, not able to stop his hips from moving no matter how much he wanted to "shit"

"what is it?"

"Jesus Christ I-"

"is there something wrong?"

"n-no just- fuck I'm sorry sweetheart"

And that's all he could say as he abruptly pulled out of you, his spend covering your stomach not even a second after as he growled so loud his neighbors probably thought he was getting killed.

"shit" again, he sighed, his forehead falling to your shoulder.

"oh" you couldn't help but smile as everything came together

"I'm sorry darlin'" he breathed, leaning away and standing up as shame filled every inch of him.

"It's just- It's been a long time since I've done... this"

You sat up, your legs still dangling off the bed, as you admired his handy work on your belly.

"And you... you're just real fucking pretty" he huffed a half-laugh "I'm sorry"

You looked up at him then, meeting his mortified expression.

"No hey" you smiled, placing a hand on his torso "It's fine, I understand"

"god this is embarrassing, I feel like a sixteen-year-old all over again" he shook his head

"stop" you cooed, gently caressing his skin, as a mischievous spark lighted in your irides "It's fine, really" you promised, "and besides..." you bit your bottom lip as you slowly spread your legs "you could still make it up to me, y'know?"

He groaned again, falling to his knees between your thighs

"that I can do"

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walpu · 2 months

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I've got those requests almost at the same time jsrfwwxewe also I fucked up big time and accidentally deleted them but thanks god I've made the screenshots

I've been looking forward to writing something nsfw for him lmao

nsfw headcanons w/Aventurine

characters - Aventurine notes - gn!reader, nsfw, subby!Aven. Somehow turned into a character study. Somewhat angsty but with a turn for hurt/comfort. No beta.

Okay, first of all, he's no virgin. But he's NOT a manwhore either. Like for some reason when it comes to the cunning characters it's always either he's a dickrider-pussydestroyer-900 or he's actually a fragile innocent virgin baby. Not the case with Aventurine, not on my watch at least.

I mean it's pretty much canon that the only moment he feels truly alive is when he's gambling so he won't seek sex for the purpose of filling up the hole in his heart. And I don't see him as a lustful person in general.

He has one-night stands from time to time though. Not particularly often but once in a while he feels a certain level of frustration and stress budling up in him so in order to distress without losing his cool he seeks sexual relief. For him it's a safe way to relax a bit without actually taking off the mask of a frivolous and confident man.

Also. He's very touch starved. Not even in a lustful way, he just wants to feel someone's touch. Someone on twitter pointed out that he's practically hugging himself on his e6 and I haven't been the same ever since.

And now look at his body language in almost every cutscene. He has his arms crossed and is generally pretty reversed. I think he doesn't trust people around enough to be in his personal space but when it's a part of the sexual act, it's just natural. He doesn't have to feel exposed. So yeah. This is another reason why he seeks sex.

Now do you remember what Sparkle said to him? About stripping himself naked for Sunday and all that? Yeah I feel like he gets comments like that a lot due to people's prejudice against Avgins. People are usually not this straightforward butttt the idea behind their comments is the same.

He may act unaffected as long as he wants to but I do think it messed him up quite a bit.

Due to his fucked up views on his own value and his sexuality he doesn't have a healthy set of boundaries with his partners, allowing them to be as mean and rough as they want. And I don't mean just kinky stuff, I mean genuinely uncaring partners who really don't give a shit about Aven's comfort. I think subconsciously he seeks people like this. In his eyes, it's better this way, otherwise he may crumble from a gently and caring touch.

So yeah. His sexual encounters usually leave him sore and exhausted. The initial feeling of relief washes away in the morning, leaving him more empty than before.

Okay now to the happier part because we are 466 words in and I still didn't say anything good or sexy.

If the two of you started your relationship as a fling then initially he would be surprised because of how observant and attentive you are.

"My, my, how caring you are. But don't worry about me, you're free to use me as you wish" he says in the same flirty tone as usual. And you just. Stare.

He acts like he's bored while you literally pry the information out of him and, well, he doesn't give you anything specific anyway so you have to ask questions during the whole prosses to make sure he's doing fine. Orrr you just set for something very vanilla just in case.

In reality he's a bit confused. Has mixed feeling about this. Being treated with such care makes it harder for him to hide behind his mask but it feels so nice.

And when he realizes that he has actual feelings for you he just. Stops sleeping with you lmao. If you have questions about this he'll find 2134144 excuses but in reality he just tries to figure out his own feelings.

If you started off as friends then he would not try to sleep with you until you start dating. At first he just doesn't want to mix up this dynamics. And when he catches feelings, he just tries to make sense of it. Plus since sex is not something entirely positive for him, he's just kind of... unsure how it may affect your relationship even if it's obvious that the two of you want each other.

Okay now the real talk. When the two of you are officially lovers be prepared to face his messed up views on his own sexuality. Will probably need a lot of reassurance, attention and aftercare to realize the importance of his own safety and comfort. Learns to value himself through you.

A very good lover, knows how to please you and wants to please you. His previous sex partners weren't important to him so he didn't go out of his way to make them feel good but with you it's a different story. Literally worships your body, pressing kisses everywhere. Especially likes your thighs. Kisses them, bites them, leaves marks all over them. Loooooves teasing them while keeping eye contact with you right before giving you oral.

I feel like he's a switch but leans towards being a sub. May dom if you want him to or, rarely, if he feels like it.

May look like a brat but is not actually a brat. Well, most of the time. He's a tease but still does pretty much everything you want without making you work for it. However, if he's in a playful mood, may get all cheeky with you. Says stuff like: "Oh, that's all? I know you can do better" or "My dearest, don't disappoint me, okay? You know I don't make deals that don't pay off" just to rile you up. He loves being tamed okay. He knows you won't hurt him so him being all cheeky and disobedient is actually a huge sign that he's comfortable with you and trusts you fully.

Worship his body and he'll melt. Like. He'll genuinely crumble.

Goes all worked up and needy and soft and completely submissive in your arms.

Loves loves loves edging you. And fucking hate being edged. And by "hates" I mean he will whine and sulk and beg you to let him cum already. Secretly loves it but won't admit. You know it anyway since he never tries to stop you, obeying your every command, like a good boy he is. If you tell him that you'll stop doing that if he actually wants you to he'll huff and admit that he's not actually against you being a meanie.

Loves marking your body and loves when you mark his. HOWEVER would prefer to leave/have hickeys on the parts of your bodies that are usually covered. Doesn't want to create any rumors and doesn't want to make you uncomfortable. However, if you're into this, he'll gladly cover your entire neck with hickeys.

Is actually very sensitive pretty much everywhere so it's quite easy to overstimulate him. Once again, he'll whine but would never be against it.

Has the pretties moans and is very loud as well.

Doesn't have a lot of stamina so if he tops and you're still not satisfied after he cums, he'll use toys to entertain you up until he is ready for another round. If he bottoms then please give him some time to rest. Andddd kiss all over his body so he would get worked up again as soon as possible.

Has a praise kink. And a bit of a degradation kink too actually. Don't just insult him, mix it up with a praise and boom he's ready to cum.

Loves aftercare. Both giving and receiving it. He feels extremely vulnerable after a sensual lovemaking session so please just hold him and tell him he did great.

#hsr #aventurine #aventurine x reader #hsr aventurine #honkai star rail #sub aventurine #reader insert #walp's writing

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unmarlou · 19 days

Text

i know you.

pairings. luke castellan x daughter of zeus!reader.

summary. when luke starts sneaking back into camp to see you, he’s changed.

lacy says. being a daughter of zeus isn’t relevant at all to the story i just needed an empty cabin to use LMAO.

· · ౨ৎ · ·

you thought back to the first time you noticed it.

it wasn’t the first time he visited, or the second, or even the third. it was right around when you got comfortable with him again, when you began to forget that luke was no longer welcome here and that you’d be a traitor all the same.

the sheets of cabin one were never scratchy so long as he lay in them. his bare rising and falling chest was rhythmic underneath your ear, the only sound being a mixture of leveling breaths and a distant wind chime hung at the big house.

minutes had passed and still he was wordless. breaths kept hitching as if he were going to say something, but suddenly thought better of it and let go.

his delicate hands rested on your body, one hand mindlessly moving up and down your exposed back, the other on the forearm of yours that was strewn across his abdomen. this was typical of his visits, though the lack of conversation was not.

not that he’d tell you much, he was always reluctant to give answers or explain himself, something you had to adjust to from being so used to a luke who’d divulge all his secrets from just the bat of your lash.

but he did love to ask about you, what were you up to? what new skills had you learned? did you miss him?

the answer to the latter was always, of course. and on cue he’d lean in closely, a lovely hand on your chin to make your eyes meet, and whisper, “soon you won’t have to, i promise.”

but tonight there was none of that. he was silent and as much as you tried to ignore it and simply enjoy the time you had, it plagued your mind. shifting your eyes to see him, his gaze was fixed on the wall ahead, his expression indiscernible.

fully lifting your head from its place of rest, if he wasn’t touching you, you would’ve thought he didn’t even know you were there. the spaced out look on his face was slightly unnerving, causing your hand on his stomach to reach up to his cheek. leading his face to yours, his eyes slowly peeled off the wall to you.

there was a pause in time, where it seemed like he was just looking through you. windows to the soul were facing each other but his were boarded up and sealed off. concern rose in your chest while also feeling slightly dejected, though it might’ve been selfish to think that way in the moment.

with a soft and kind face, your thumb ran tenderly along his scar, the way you used to do all those years ago. like a shift in the tide, he immediately awoke from his trance, closed his eyes, and heaved a great sigh.

the smallest bit of relief came to your aid in knowing that trick still worked. he was still your luke.

upon opening his eyes, they shot back and forth between yours, his hands miraculously remembering you, and flexing for a stronger hold. though you were in his arms, something told you he was still worlds away.

he reached forward and brushed his lips to yours, with the gentleness of handling porcelain. the warmth of his skin was a brief reminder that despite your worries, blood circulated his body, he was here; he was real. he guided you back to his chest, and now, even the wind chimes were silent.

he’d wait for you to fall asleep before he left. however, a secret you’d take to the grave was that you never were sleeping- only pretending- in an attempt to savor his touch, his scent, his very essence. you never did know the next time he’d grace cabin one.

the light had gone out long ago, moonlight now clinging to the walls. his flesh left yours, and your distorted gaze fell on his back. it was littered with scars, mostly old but a few noticeably new- you suddenly understood why he’d insist on holding your hands when sharing a bed.

you watched his large frame lean down, acquire his shirt, and slip it on. as routine he’d sit on the edge of your bed, tying his shoes, readying to creep out the door and away. he once again wore that disturbingly blank expression.

he then did something out of the ordinary: he continued to sit. you tried your best to maintain an even breathing pattern, to raise no suspicions, but it didn’t seem to matter- he hadn’t cared to look back at you a single time.

moments passed on before his head fell to his hands. you could make out the arch of his spine beneath his shirt as his face pressed into his palms. he labored multiple breaths and you fought the urge to take him in your arms, to cradle his fretting mind.

more and more time passed and you found yourself genuinely dosing off, the long day- and now night- catching up to you. your eyes inherently closed and your mind half gone, you finally heard the distant sound of luke’s footsteps and a familiar creak of the door, before allowing a world entirely of your own take over.

the crunch of the underbrush made your stomach whirl with each step.

“luke-”

“shhh!”

he was a fair ways ahead of you, weaving through the trees with stealth. he wore a long sleeve underneath his t-shirt, indicative of the chill in the air; you were in pajamas, indicative of just getting out of bed in a rush.

you were tossing and turning this night, unable to forge comfort in your bed, when you heard the snaps of twigs in the distance. the last wordless visit from luke still reeling in your mind, even after weeks, allowed you to peek out of the window, just to be greeted with the far shadows of familiar broad shoulders. so here you were now, trailing behind him in the woods.

the lack of light made it hard to pinpoint where you were exactly, but it seemed familiar enough not to panic. luke was here, he’d never let anything happen to you.

“luke!” your plea was as hushed as you could make it, still hoping for him to stop.

his turnaround was harsh, almost deliberately so. “what?”

his voice ran through the gaps in the trees, causing him to peer around quickly, fearing he’d been too rash. he took a deep and silent breath before stalking back to you.

standing in front of you, the moonlight streaming down encased the two of you just enough to create an illusion of privacy.

he repeated, “what?” he spoke just above a whisper.

“i w…” he practically winced at your tone, a silent reminder alongside his eyes bearing into you with expectance, “where are we going?”

luke had an affinity for being unable to conceal his facial expressions, especially when he was met with a question he thought was stupid. you hated being the subject of this look.

“i just need to check some things out, i’m not staying.” his bluntness would’ve been a sufficient distraction of its own had it not been accompanied by obvious impatience.

with best efforts, you ignored this, always finding it in your heart to be rational and sympathetic. your manner softened as if handling a temperamental child while giving him the opportunity to reciprocate, “i just,” a breeze brushed hair over his shining eyes, “i miss you.”

he was once again boarded up and sealed off. the lack of acknowledgment written on his face was equally hurtful as it was frustrating. seconds passed with his unfazed expression searching yours, and finally, unable to take the haunting gaze, you reached a hand up to brush his moon-illuminated cheek.

without hesitation he maneuvered away, fervent with avoiding your touch. he cleared his throat, “you should go back to your cabin.”

slowly recoiling and folding your arms in front of yourself to conserve what little warmth you had, he didn’t take a second look back before starting on his trek again.

you couldn’t even begin to feel hurt when anger was seeping in and taking over. years of relentlessly critical thoughts came flooding back all at once; how passive he was, how much you were willing to risk for him, how his face would fall to dissatisfaction when he thought you weren’t looking.

unable to help yourself, you called after him, “what do you want from me, luke?”

his halt was abrupt and he peered over his shoulder, “what?” he sounded incredulous, like the proposal of this question was just as stupid as before. his head whipped back to you, his eyes fixed and dark.

tension that had been built over time was boiling now, “you’re shutting me out! you left!” hopelessness was rising in your chest as his jaw clenched in challenge, “what am i supposed to make of that?!”

wind whistled passed trying to take your clothes with it. his familiar nose twitch gave away your getting to him, though he was quick to relent. you spoke again, “tell what it is that i’ve done. tell me what you expect of me.”

“i don’t expect anything of you. i’m not here for you.”

you were staring into his eyes, desperately scouring for something more yet you were met with stone. gods he was so beautiful. why was he breaking your heart?

with a release of pained air, your face remained carved with fury; you were not going to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry. you began taking steps back, feeling your head shake slightly but being set on letting that be the last words that hung between you.

turning to leave, he was quick to grab your forearm, his grasp tight and unwavering despite your flexes. you were met with an unnerving glint, “don’t even think about going to chiron.”

the most painful part all of this was luke believed you could betray him just as he did you. never once did the thought of telling cross your mind.

the fatal flaw of loving luke castellan was that even now, looking up at him for a fleeting moment, there was a longing for his comfort. eyes flicked to his chest and you felt as though you could fall right into it without conviction. but the trees rustled above, and reality swept in.

you wrenched your arm from a hand that was once so loving, and unable to stand his gaze much longer, followed the path of least resistance back to camp.

the smell of campfire engraved itself into your clothes.

stepping onto the marble stairs leading up to your cabin, you bid a goodnight to the friends you’d be leaving behind for rest. the echo of laughs and avid chatter filled the cul-de-sac of cabins, the camp turning in for sleep with spirits still souring after a night at the amphitheater.

the hearth in the center of your earth raged on, casting everyone in a homey glow. shouts of sleep well! and don’t let the stolls bite! were strewn across porches. giving your final farewells to the outside world, the door of cabin one was opened.

immediately you saw him. to be fair, it wasn’t like he was hiding, and it wasn’t difficult to spot the only person inhabiting the whole place. he sat on the edge of your bed, facing the door, his head hanging into his hands. you felt as though you’d seen this before.

“luke?” your voice seemed impossibly small in the expansive room.

his shoulders instantly tightened as he looked up. catching his full appearance, you took a discreetly sharp inhale of surprise; he was pale, an indescribably striking pale, accompanied by a tear stricken face. his cheeks were glossed from leaking eyes, and his hair was slightly tousled, like he’d been running his hands through it too many times.

this was unlike anything you’d ever seen before, let alone from luke. straight edge, always tidy, never-let-them-see-you-at-your-worst- luke.

you began to thank every god quickly and individually that none of your friends had asked to come back to your cabin to continue the fun, as they usually did after campfire.

“i’m-” his voice was hoarse, “i’m sorry, i…” he shook his head, not finishing his thought before shutting his eyes in an attempt to stop his tears.

you stood frozen at the entryway, still taking in the sight. you truly didn’t think you’d be seeing him again, or at least not like this. you’d been trying your hardest to beat down any remaining soft spot for him after his dismissal of you last time, trying to hold true to your anger.

he wasn’t making it easy.

the air had become stiff despite a breeze sweeping through and a sour taste was advancing on your tongue.

he lifted an arm off his knee and extended it to you. such a small act, yet it incited an internal battle between your heart and your mind. you weren’t sure when the dense pit in your stomach had arrived but were sure it was here to stay.

your eyes on his- they seemed a harsher brown than you were used to, in contrast to his newly stark complexion- they were filled with the most desperation one could have. he was pleading.

he slowly became closer and closer, yet he hadn’t moved from his place on the bed, and you found yourself no longer in the entry way. your heart had presently won. it hammered in your chest, shouting words once spoken aloud, i’m here regardless of the pain, a promise.

reaching his strong hand, placing fingers in his palm, irreverent shock jolted you into the moment. he was cold to the touch, iciness spreading up your arm and tying itself around your neck.

it made your next action quick and practically thoughtless, taking an immediate seat on the edge next to him, still holding his woeful eyes. his heavenly face trembled with more emotion than it could handle, and he fell hastily into your shoulder with a heart-shattering sob.

he clung to your torso like a lifeline, tears warming through your shirt. you deemed the feeling of his shivering body against yours the worst you’ll ever know.

as if his torment was a weight now on both of your shoulders, you two slipped onto the floor, melting into the foundation. but your arms never relented from his. the hiccups of his cries seemed to echo in the vast space.

“i’m sorry.”

“i know.”

“i’m so sorry.”

“i know.”

and so this continued. his consistent beg for forgiveness and your incessant declaration of understanding, repeating it so many times it didn’t even sound like english by the end.

cradling him and his fretting mind now, the way you were sure may castellan had when he was young and scrapped his knee, making claims of knowing the pain he was experiencing.

a hand reached down to his cheek and led his face to yours. as a pure act of admiration, your thumb ran tenderly along his scar. watching him intently, you saw a flicker- if only for a second- of the boy you loved, once not hurt by the world he was subjected to.

a whispered, “i know.” meant you did, a solemn swear. it meant don’t tell me to go away from you because i know. it meant his anguish was not his to bear alone.

it meant you knew him regardless if he could recognize himself while looking right in the mirror.

“i know you, luke.”

· · ౨ৎ · ·

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jjklvr9 · 3 months

Text

𝐇𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫

-> 𝘞𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘴 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵.

18+ minors dni !!

pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

genre: smut, oneshot

warnings: dom jungkook, oral sex (male receiving), fingering, cursing, unprotected sex, do let me know if i missed anything!

wc: 2.2k

a/n: this is a one-shot i wrote a like yearssss ago lmao, its been up on AFF but i wanted to post it here too! it's a little bit rushed but i hope you still enjoy <3

“What are you staring at? Come on, dance with us!” a high-pitched female voice broke you apart from your long thoughts. It was a Friday night- meaning everybody would be heading over to the club, going wild and getting themselves wasted. Your two best friends along with their boyfriends forcefully made you, the only one left single pringle and too-awkward-to-mingle- to tag along with them to the club tonight. Not that you had any other plans that night but being your boring awkward self, you didn’t really like to go out to these sorts of things. It was rather too loud and crowded for your liking, making you feel all breathless and weak.

“Hey, come on!” one of your beloved best friends called out to you again, her body still grinding ever so roughly onto her boyfriend’s. Your lips curved into a slight smile and you shook your head, indicating that you were just alright sitting there all by yourself and watching them have their fun. Empty glasses and drinks were scattered all over the table yet of course- your glass was left untouched. No, you were certainly not planning on getting home wasted and getting a hangover the next morning. It was too much to bear with and you had no time to deal with those ilks of things. You leaned your back onto the sofa, your eyes observing the much-crowded place when suddenly- a lonesome-looking guy sitting on the sofa next to your group caught your attention. He was like me too, you thought as the young man was just sitting there, his back resting onto the sofa as well.

Without any hesitance, you decided to head your heels over to his side and probably make a new friend by the end of the night. As you got yourself closer to him, you finally saw his facial features clearly and holy shit- he was one fine young man. “Uhm, hey.” You slowly greeted him, only to be responded with a confused look written on his face. “Do I know you?” His voice. It was husky as you thought it would be and damn, you found that to be hella attractive. “No.. but I want to know you..?” With that he lets out a soft chuckle past his lips, none of it with any sarcasm. The male pats the space beside him, scooting away slightly to let you sit down. “Thanks.” You murmured, placing your hands on your bare thighs. Now that you were sitting down beside a guy you never met- you felt like your dress was too short and was getting shorter by the second you were breathing. It was showing off your thighs and it barely covered your upper thigh. A single misstep could lay everything bare.

“So, alone?” he asks with a smile, breaking the chain of thoughts in your head. “Uhm- no, my friends and their boyfriends are on the dance floor.” Again, he chuckles. “Same goes for me. Want a drink?” “Uh-no! it’s okay. I’ve had too many.” You lied; not wanting to sound like you were still sober and fresh in a fucking club. That would be really lame and quite embarrassing. “Well, what’s your name?” he asks, his dark orbs meeting yours making you look away and blush. If looks could kill- you’d be dead.

“Y/N”

“Jungkook.” he replies, a smile curving up the corner of his lips.

“Well then Jungkook.”

Before you could proceed with your words, you were interrupted by a group of inebriated individuals stumbling around, likely to be Jungkook's friends. You felt like you shouldn’t be intruding them as you were nothing but a mere stranger, not even waiting for Jungkook to say anything and scurried back to sit on your sofa alone.

Well- it wasn’t entirely your best friend’s fault that you were left all alone. They did invite you up to the dance floor but you were just too lazy. You were not in the mood for random sweaty strangers having their bodies pressed against yours while they utter nonsense to your ears. As time passed, you stole quick glances at the adjacent sofa, hoping to find the young man, but to your disappointment, he was no longer there. You found yourself trying to look for him everywhere when a hand suddenly grabbed your wrist lightly.

“I’m here. Sorry about just now.” It was Jungkook- unexpectedly just standing there right in front of you. “Follow me?” without any hesitation, you obediently followed him out of the noisy club and into his car down the street. You didn’t know exactly what you had just brought yourself into as he drove off from the club. This young man could be a murderer or a rapist-and hell knows what kind of crazy thing he would do to you. “Where are we going?” “My place.” He answers with ease, finally pulling over in front of a tall building. Evidently, his apartment exuded luxury, suggesting that he was likely quite affluent. Jungkook parks his car quickly and brings you up to the elevator and finally to his apartment. Everything was happening so fast, all that you could feel at the moment was confusion. The man unlocks the door, pulling you in along with him but not with much force.

“Welcome.”

His place was rather impressive, adorned in various shades of grey as the main theme, featuring a large window and a snug kitchen. There was also a huge sliding door with translucent paper covering it- probably the entrance to his bedroom. You awkwardly stood beside his couch not wanting to take a seat without his consent and waited for him to at least explain what the hell was going on. Jungkook walks over and plops down onto the couch, his face looking up at you in confusion. “Why aren’t you sitting down?” “I have to go- my friends are going to kill me if they found out I just ditched them like that.” Before you could walk away to the door, Jungkook quickly grabbed your arm-not too tightly to hurt you but enough that made you sit on his lap. The heat on your cheeks was starting to go out of hand- I probably look like a dumb tomato, you thought.

“Stay.” You turn your head slightly to get a better look at Jungkook’s face when he suddenly leans in and captures your lips with his. It took a brief moment before you actually returned the kiss. It was full of passion and lust, something both of you were craving for out of each other. Your hands were now wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer to you to get more out of his lips. Jungkook licks your wet cavern with his tongue before tangling both of your tongues together, sucking on them roughly. Somehow, your hands had unwrapped themselves and made their way down to his chest; caressing it up and down. Standing up, Jungkook carries you up with your legs wrapped around his waist- your lips still latched together. The young man walks towards his bedroom and gently places you down on his bed, his body hovering on top of yours. He slowly pressed himself onto you, grinding his clothed hardness onto your clothed clit. “Mmhh.” A muffled moan escapes your lips, making Jungkook pull away from the intense kiss, only to leave hard kisses on your neck and even biting it to leave a few marks.

Being all impatient, you brought your hands up to his collar and began unbuttoning his shirt, throwing it away across the room. Your itchy hands then continued to go further down, fiddling with the belt of his pants and finally being able to get that out of the way too. You softly nudged his growing clothed erection with your knee before you unzipped his pants and pushed it off his legs completely, leaving him in nothing but his red-coloured boxers. Having both of your lips still hardly pressed onto each other, Jungkook unzips your dress and pulls it off of you easily- as if it was such a common thing for him to do but you didn’t put much thought about it at that moment. Without wasting any time, his quick hands unclasped your black lacey bra and he too, threw it across the room and God knows where it was now. Jungkook’s eyes adverted from your own down to your exposed breasts, his tongue slipping out of his lips to lick them dry. “Fuck.” He cursed under his breath yet you could still hear them very clearly.

Instead of getting it on to the whole point- you decided you’d play a little game even though you knew you were going to get fucked real hard after. Literally. You held your palms on his chest and pushed him off you, making him roll to the other side only to have you hovering on top of him now. A smirk played on your lips as Jungkook looked at you in genuine confusion with a little hint of excitement. With the smirk still on your lips, you slowly made your way down till you reached eye-level with his growing crotch. “You’re so fucking hard.” You teased, biting onto the hem of his boxers and pulling it down slowly, your eyes locked with his. Jungkook bit his lips as he watched you pull his boxers off completely, letting his erect cock free itself from the heated cloth. “So hard-for me.” You let out a soft yet teasing moan, offering a smooth lick to his hardness. “Fuck-don’t tease me.” He breathed out when you gave another four or five licks. You ignored his words and continued to take his tip into your mouth, giving it a light bite before engulfing him whole; making you gag a little bit. The male’s head was now pulled back with his eyes shut tightly, his teeth biting onto his lips to suppress any sound from exiting. Jungkook didn’t want to sound weak, you see. Failing to keep his posture up together, he finally let out a groan when you started sucking onto him harshly. The pleasured male wasn’t giving much reaction to your doings, making you feel a little pissed off and you decided to leave it at that and pulled away completely when you know he was reaching his peak. “What the fuck!” he yelled, eyes widened in bewilderedness. Both of you were now in a heating tension; one who was pissed off and one who was just literally in heat.

Feeling himself getting hotter and frustrated by the second, Jungkook clutched his hands onto your arms tightly, carrying you away from being on top of him and pushed you down onto the bed. This time, it had a harder impact. You were starting to feel eager to know what he was planning to do with you yet you were also feeling a little scared of what might come out of him. The awaited male shot you a glare before he roughly tore your black underwear and pushed three of his fingers together into you. That sudden action of his made you jolt in pain, obviously not ready for his invasion. His fingers were not like those slim and longed ones, no. They were- not to say huge but slightly plump but fit. You can imagine them by yourselves on this one.

He started pulling his fingers in and out of your wet clit, every push becoming even harder than before. “So wet-for me.” Jungkook mocked you, hearing you moaning out loud when it’s barely him inside of you. Feeling your stomach clenching, you were waiting for him to finger you even quicker but instead, INSTEAD- he pulled them out completely. Before you could yell at him for being a total jerk, he pushed his erect cock up in you with a loud blow; not even wasting time to adjust and went straight into thrusting. Your eyes started to water, your back was arching to its maximum point and you were screaming his name at the top of your lungs at every hard thrust he blew into you.

“Oh fuck me- faster please..!” you squirmed in painful ecstasy, Jungkook not even having to listen to your demands as he paced up even faster than before. “You’re so fucking hot babe..” he breathes out in between his humps, hoping you would be able to hear them even though you were busy getting pleasured. “Fuck’s sake- faster! Mmhm..” this time, you moan even louder, signalling that you were reaching your climax very very very soon. “I-I’m going to cum.” Jungkook hitches, thrusting in you hard a few more times before he pulls out and lets the warm liquid flow out and stain the bed sheet.

The room was filled with nothing but the rushed breathings of your lungs and his. After some time passed by, Jungkook finally turned to your side and pulled up the blanket to cover both of your naked bodies. “Hey.” He says, making you turn your head to face his smiling face. “Hey.” Now, both of you were simply smiling, your eyes locked, each attempting to decipher the thoughts lingering in the other's mind. "Let’s have a dinner date tomorrow. I want to get to know you better.”

#bts #jungkook #jeon jungkook #smut #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #bts jungkook #fanfic #bts x reader

750 notes · View notes

amalythea · 1 month

Text

「 hold my hand, please, one last time.」

⤷ info: kazuha, albedo, aether, xiao, wanderer x gn!reader || angst, this is based on the prompt “can i hold your hand?” (or “can you hold my hand?”) || wc: 3104

⤷ warnings: death, this is v v angsty

⤷ extra: i wrote this a while ago back on soleillunne and decided that it was too good to be gone forever lmao

kazuha.

The battlefield was strewn with chaos, and amidst the clash of swords and the cries of war, Kazuha fought with all his might, his heart burdened with the weight of the lives at stake. He had hoped that his skills with the blade and mastery of the Anemo vision would be enough to protect those he held dear, but fate had other plans.

As the battle raged on, he caught a glimpse of his lover, a skilled warrior whose presence had always brought him comfort and strength, you. Your eyes met for a fleeting moment, and in that exchange, you understood each other without uttering a word. It was a silent promise that you would find each other amidst the chaos.

But the tide turned against you, and the enemy’s forces seemed endless. Despite your best efforts, the defenders were overwhelmed, and Kazuha found himself standing back-to-back with you, defending against the onslaught.

In the midst of the chaos, an arrow found its mark. Time seemed to slow as the arrow pierced through your chest, and the world around you faded into the background. Kazuha’s heart clenched in horror as he caught you, your strength waning with each passing moment.

“Kazuha,” you gasped, blood staining your lips. “Can I hold your hand?”

Tears welled up in Kazuha’s eyes as he clutched your hand tightly, trying to offer some semblance of comfort amidst the pain. “Yes, of course,” he choked out, his voice trembling with grief.

Your hand trembled in his grasp, and Kazuha could feel your life slipping away like sand through his fingers. He could do nothing but watch helplessly as the light in your eyes began to fade. You smiled weakly at him, a bittersweet expression filled with love and regret.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice barely audible above the sounds of battle. “I wish… we had more time.”

“Don’t speak like that,” Kazuha pleaded, his voice breaking. “We’ll get through this. I won’t let you go.”

But you knew better, and as your strength waned, you continued to smile at him, your touch growing weaker by the second.

“I love you,” you murmured, your breath becoming shallow. “Always…”

Tears streamed down Kazuha’s cheeks as he held you close, trying to shield you from the harsh reality of the world around you. He wished he could turn back time, rewrite the events that led to this tragic moment, but life was unforgiving in its cruelty.

Your hand in his grew colder, and your breathing ceased. Your life force, once vibrant and strong, slipped away, leaving behind only a lifeless body in Kazuha’s arms.

Kazuha held your hand tightly, unable to let go, as if keeping that connection alive could somehow bring you back. He cried out in anguish, the weight of grief crashing down upon him like an unforgiving storm.

In that moment, amidst the chaos of the battlefield, Kazuha felt an emptiness he had never known before. He had lost not only a lover but a confidant, a soulmate with whom he had shared dreams, laughter, and countless cherished memories.

And as the battle raged on, Kazuha clung to your lifeless hand, lost in sorrow, with a heart that would forever bear the burden of their memory.

albedo.

Albedo’s heart pounded in his chest as he cradled his you in his arms. He was just about to descend from his lab on Dragonspine to meet up with you as he promised, only to see you laying on your own blood at the bottom of the mountain. He had seen you only hours prior, he’d laughed with you, but now, all that remained was a sea of sorrow, the bitter taste of loss overwhelming his senses.

He looked down at the face that he had cherished so dearly, now drained of all warmth and life. Your eyes, once filled with light and love, now stared back at him with a haunting emptiness. Albedo’s hands trembled, and tears welled up in his eyes, blurring his vision.

“Can you hold my hand?” a weak voice whispered, barely audible amidst the sounds of grief and despair that surrounded them. Albedo’s heart wrenched at the sound, and he quickly took your freezing hand into his own.

Tears streamed down Albedo’s cheeks as he clutched your hand tightly. “Yes, of course,” he choked out, his voice breaking with pain. “I’ll hold your hand for as long as you need, my love.”

He brought your intertwined hands to his lips and placed a tender kiss on the once-warm skin, now cold and lifeless. Memories of your time together flooded his mind – the laughter you shared, the dreams you nurtured, and the love you built with each passing day. Now, all that was left were shattered hopes and dreams.

“I’m so sorry,” Albedo whispered, his voice filled with regret and guilt. “I couldn’t protect you. I failed.”

You weakly shook your head, mustering a faint smile. “No, don’t blame yourself,” you managed to say. “You… you brought me so much happiness, Albedo. Please, don’t forget that.”

Albedo’s heart ached at the words, realizing that he had to find the strength to carry on without you. But it felt like an impossible task, as if the very essence of his being had been torn apart.

“I don’t know if I can,” he confessed, his voice trembling with sorrow. “You’re my everything.”

You fingers tightened around his hand as if trying to hold on just a little longer. “You’re strong, Albedo. Stronger than you know,” you said, your voice barely audible. “Promise me… you’ll keep going… for both of us.”

Albedo nodded, his tears falling freely now. “I promise,” he whispered, trying to keep his voice steady. “I’ll live for the both of us. But it won’t be the same without you.”

Your breaths became shallower, and Albedo knew that your life was slipping away. He leaned closer, trying to memorize every detail of your face, never wanting to forget.

“I love you,” you whispered, your words fading like a gentle breeze. “Always.”

“I love you too,” Albedo replied, his voice choked with emotion. “Always and forever.”

And with those final words, your grip on his hand slowly weakened until it was gone completely. Albedo held onto your hand a moment longer, pressing it against his heart as if trying to keep your love alive within him.

As grief consumed him, Albedo felt a mix of emotions. Sorrow, anger, and a deep longing to see his lover again, even if it were just for a moment. But he knew he had to continue, to honor your memory and the love you shared.

Albedo gently laid your body down, closing your eyes with tender care. He stood, feeling the weight of loss heavy on his shoulders, but also the weight of your love, and your belief in him, pushing him forward. Though his heart was shattered, he would carry your love with him, always.

And as he walked away from that place of sorrow, he knew that the pain would remain, but so would the memories of a love that would never truly fade away.

aether.

Aether’s heart pounded in his chest as he cradled his dying lover in his arms. The battlefield around them had turned into a chaotic canvas of destruction, but his attention was solely focused on the person he held dear. You were slipping away, and he could feel your life force fading like a waning star.

“Can you hold my hand?” you whispered, your voice barely audible amidst the cacophony of war. Aether’s eyes filled with tears, and he gently clasped your frail hand in his own, interlocking your fingers. His touch was warm, providing a sense of comfort amidst the pain.

“I’m here,” he choked out, his voice trembling. “I won’t let go.”

Your breathing was shallow, and your once-bright eyes were now dim, but you managed a faint smile. It was a bittersweet expression, as if you were trying to convey so much in that fleeting moment. Memories of you flooded Aether’s mind, from the first time you met under the starlit sky to the promises you made to each other.

“You have to promise me,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, “that you’ll keep going. That you’ll find happiness again.”

Aether couldn’t find the strength to respond, his throat constricted with grief. He knew that in a world without his lover, life would lose its luster, its purpose. But he understood that you were trying to ease his pain, even in your last breaths.

“No,” he whispered, tears streaming down his cheeks, “I can’t bear to live without you. Please don’t leave. Not you too.”

You smiled again, a mixture of sadness and love in your eyes. “You are strong, Aether, and you will find the strength to carry on. I will always be with you.”

Aether’s heartache intensified, and he leaned down to press his forehead against yours. He wished he could freeze time, to hold you forever, but he knew it was slipping away like grains of sand through his fingers.

“I love you,” you said, their voice fading into a whisper.

“And I love you,” Aether replied, his voice breaking.

Your grip on his hand loosened, and Aether felt the last pulse of life slip away from you. He held onto your hand a moment longer, not wanting to let go, but eventually, he lowered it gently to your chest.

In that moment, as the world around him continued to rage with chaos, Aether felt an overwhelming emptiness inside. His lover was gone, and the pain of your absence consumed him. But he knew he had to honor your last wish—to find a way to live without you, to keep your love alive in his heart.

With tears in his eyes, Aether kissed your forehead one last time before he stood, facing the uncertain future that lay ahead. Your love would forever be his guiding light, and he would cherish every memory, every moment you had shared.

And as the battles raged on and the world continued to turn, Aether vowed to carry your love with him, a beacon of hope in the darkest of times. Though your physical presence was gone, your love would endure, a reminder that even in the face of loss, the power of love could transcend beyond the boundaries of life and death.

heizou.

Heizou knelt on the cold, damp ground, cradling your cold body in his arms. He had just returned home from work, when the last thing he expected to see was see you laying on your own blood in your shared home. He held you closer, your blood staining his hands, mingling with his own tears. His heart felt as though it had been torn apart, and the pain was almost unbearable.

The world seemed to slow down as Heizou stared into the fading eyes of his beloved. Each second felt like an eternity, and yet, it was slipping away all too quickly. He could see the struggle in your gaze, the effort it took to speak those final words.

“Can I hold your hand?” you whispered, your voice getting lower with each word.

Tears streamed down Heizou’s face, and he gently clasped your trembling hand with his own, intertwining your fingers. He felt your warmth slowly waning, and he held on tighter, as if he could somehow will life back into you with the strength of his grip.

“You don’t have to ask,” Heizou choked out, his voice breaking with sorrow. “I’ll hold your hand forever.”

You managed a faint smile, your strength visibly waning. “I… I love you,” you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I love you too,” Heizou replied, his voice trembling. “You’re my everything, my reason for living.”

As the commotion outside your shared home began to get louder, the people having noticed the blood stains, Heizou’s focus remained solely on you. The world outside ceased to exist for him, and he poured all his love and energy into holding you, trying to be your anchor in this storm of pain and suffering.

In your last moments, you clung to each other tightly, as if afraid to let go. Heizou’s heart ached as he felt your life slipping away from him, the person who meant more to him than anything else in the world. He wished he could have done something, anything, to save you.

But in the end, all he could do was be there, holding your hand, providing them with comfort in their final moments. Heizou would carry the weight of this loss forever, the memories of you etched into his soul.

Even as people left you two alone and the world moved on, Heizou remained on that cold, damp ground, cradling the body of the one he had loved and lost, his heart forever scarred by the pain of that fateful day.

xiao.

Xiao knelt on the damp ground, his heart pounding with anguish as he cradled your shaking form in his arms. The battlefield around you was silent, the chaos of the battle having retreated, leaving behind only the echoes of suffering and loss.

Your once bright eyes, now dulled by death, stared up at him, and Xiao couldn’t bear to look away. Your hands, once intertwined in a promise of eternity, now lay limp and still. Tears welled up in his eyes, but he refused to let them fall.

“Can you hold my hand?” your voice was a faint whisper, barely audible amidst the devastation surrounding them.

Xiao’s heart shattered at those words, but he gently took your hand in his own, holding it with all the tenderness and love he had for you. “I will always hold your hand,” he choked out, his voice breaking with grief.

You managed a weak smile, the corners of your lips lifting slightly. “Even in death,” you murmured, your voice barely reaching Xiao’s ears.

“I’ll follow you anywhere, my love,” Xiao vowed, his fingers trembling as he clung tightly to the hand that was growing colder by the second. “Even to the ends of this cruel world.”

Your breathing grew fainter, and your grip on his hand loosened. Xiao felt his heartache intensify, knowing that he couldn’t change the cruel fate that had befallen you.

“Thank you… for loving me,” you whispered, your voice a mere thread of sound.

“Thank you for making my life meaningful,” Xiao replied, his voice choked with emotion. “I’m grateful for every moment we shared.”

Your eyes locked for a final time, and in that fleeting moment, a lifetime of love and memories passed between you. Xiao wished he could freeze time, to hold on to this moment forever, but life had other plans.

As the last breath left your lips, Xiao leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. “Rest now,” he whispered, his voice breaking with sorrow. “I’ll carry you in my heart. Until we meet again.”

He remained there, holding your lifeless hand, as tears streamed down his cheeks, mingling with the blood-stained soil beneath you. Xiao knew that a part of him had died that day with his beloved, but he also knew that your love would live on, eternal and undying, no matter the circumstances.

wanderer.

Wanderer knelt on the ground, his heart pounding in his chest as he cradled you in his arms. The world around you seemed to blur, the noise of battle fading into an eerie silence. The battle had been brutal, and he had fought with all his might to protect the one he loved, but fate had dealt them a cruel hand.

Your once vibrant eyes now glistened with pain, and a weak smile graced your lips. Blood stained your clothing, and Wanderer could feel your life slipping away.

“Hey,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I don’t have much time, do I?”

Wanderer choked back a sob, clutching your body tightly. “Don’t talk like that. You’re going to be fine. We’ll get you help.”

A soft chuckle escaped your lips, but it quickly turned into a cough. “You can’t lie to me, my love.” you managed to say, your breath shallow.

Tears finally streamed down Wanderer’s face as he pressed his forehead against yours. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I’m sorry if I didn’t say it often. I can’t bear to lose you.”

You trembled in his grasp, and gazed into his eyes with a mixture of love and sadness. “Can I hold your hand?” you asked, your voice barely audible.

Wanderer nodded frantically, intertwining his fingers with yours. He held your hand close to his heart, hoping that somehow he could transfer strength to you.

“I’m scared,” you admitted, tears pooling in your eyes. “I don’t want to leave you.”

He brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his touch gentle and full of affection, reserved only for you. “You won’t have to. Just hold on a little longer, and we’ll get you help. We’ll face this together.”

Your grip tightened weakly on his hand. “You’re my light, my love, my everything,” you murmured. “You always have been. Promise me you’ll keep shining, even when I’m gone.”

Wanderer could feel whatever was left of his heart shatter with your words. “I promise,” he choked out. “But you can’t leave me. I can’t do this without you.”

Your breathing grew shallower, and your voice became softer. “You’re strong, my love,” you said. “You’ll find a way. Remember me, but don’t let my memory hold you back. Live your life to the fullest. Find happiness again.”

“I can’t imagine life without you,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “How am I supposed to go on?”

Your only response was a brief smile, and he squeezed your cold hand tightly. “I’ll never let go,” he vowed. “Not even when you’re gone.”

Your breathing slowed, and your eyes locked with his one last time. “I love you,” you whispered, your voice fading away.

“I love you too,” he whispered back, his voice cracking.

And then, with your hand still clasped in his, you were gone.

Wanderer held your lifeless form closer, his tears falling like rain. He knew that life would never be the same again, that a piece of his heart had been taken with you. But he also knew that he had to keep the promise he made. With a heavy heart, he stood, carrying your memory with him as he faced the world without you, knowing that he would always carry your love and light with him.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

@amalythea 2024. | do not re-upload, copy, translate, etc. my works on any form of media.

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toomanystoriessolittletime · 2 months

Text

Mistakes

Summary: You were tired of men making decisions for you. Even though they had your best interest at heart, all they ended up doing was breaking your heart more and more. After reuniting Joel with his brother Tommy (your Ex who left the QZ without telling anyone including you) in a town called Jackson and an overdue argument with Joel Miller you finally confess your feelings for him, spending the night with the older brother, only to wake up alone in an empty house with him and Ellie gone.

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem. reader (former Tommy Miller x fem. reader)

Wordcount: 6.4k

Rating: E

Warnings: angst, pining, feelings, Joel Miller not being good at those feelings, past heartbreak, current heartbreak, mentioned of miscarriage, more angst, also some smut (unprotected sex), kissing, mentions of violence, stitches, blood

A/N: this summary sucks but I have no idea how to make it better. Let’s hope the fics doesn’t suck like it lmao

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It was like entering the twilight zone when the gates opened.

People were wandering the streets with smiles on their faces. You could hear children's laughter. Some people stopped and nodded towards you as you passed by them on the horse the people who had found you had put you on.

Your gaze always slipped back to Ellie and Joel in front of you. Watching them closely.

The woman who had talked to Joel, Maria, had not given you much more information other than to follow them after she learned Joel’s name and that he was looking for his brother Tommy.

But you had seen in her face that she recognised the name.

If you were honest with yourself you never believed you would really find him. Tommy.

It had been such a long time since Joel had heard from him last and the only reason you agreed to join him in his search for Tommy was because you were scared of losing the last connection you had to your previous life.

Tommy, Joel and you grew up together.

When you thought of them you thought of summers at the Miller’s pool. Of thirteen year old Joel trying to teach five year old you how to swim while six year old Tommy kept trying to pull you under the water.

The little shit.

Of course as you turned older your interests changed, yet you all still managed to spend at least a week of the summer break together out for mischief.

And then it all changed when Tommy Miller kissed you.

It was after Joel left for College and if you were honest with yourself you had been crushing on him for a while at that point.

You and Tommy had been together for two years before you found him kissing another girl.

God, you had been so heartbroken back then.

He had been your first real boyfriend and a tiny part of you thought he'd be the man you would marry and have kids with. Sixteen year old you had her life planned out to the dot.

It had taken years for you to accept him as a friend again.

Joel and you had become closer in the meantime. He’d told you all about his plans to open his own business and that he wanted to propose to his girlfriend.

You were also the first person he told when he learned that he’d become a father.

He had been scared but so happy.

And you knew from the moment you saw him hold Sarah for the first time, that he would move heaven and earth for his little girl. Nothing would stay in his way. Not when his girlfriend left him with a toddler, not when both of his parents died, leaving him to deal with everything on his own.

Sarah was his whole world.

Until the world ended.

The years after that were dark and painful. That was the excuse you used, that you needed to feel something different for at least a little moment, when you started to sleep with Tommy again.

Which went on for years even after you made it to the QZ.

Until he left without a word.

Leaving you and his brother again to pick up the pieces.

“Tommy!” you heard Joel shout and your eyes followed his gaze, his horse stopping as he jumped off.

He looked different. Older than you remembered him. But there walking down the steps was indeed Tommy Miller.

Joel had found him.

His eyes found yours as he hugged his brother, whispering your name in disbelief.

For a moment, a small moment you were beyond relieved to find him alive and well. Anger replaced that feeling pretty quickly. He was alive and well and in a fucking functioning town without ever sending a fucking message?

You had stopped counting how often you had been almost killed on this mission to find him because Joel and you thought something had happened to him and he needed saving.

You closed your eyes, swallowing your anger, finding Ellie watching you when your eyes opened again.

“Let’s have something to eat,” Maria said next to you and you gave her a sharp nod, leaving the Miller brothers behind.

You hated the fact that you cried when you were angry.

Tears were streaming down your face as you showered under the warmest fucking water you had felt in years, scrubbing your body furiously.

The nerve he had.

Not only was he perfectly fine, no he was married and about to be a father.

You didn’t like the way his wife Maria kept glaring at Joel not trying to be sneaky about it.

You could only imagine what he had told her.

He used to blame Joel for what you all had done after the outbreak on your way to the Boston QZ. You had always argued about it in the privacy of the shitty apartment you shared back in the QZ. Because Tommy was a fully grown man when he killed those people. He could have stopped and left. But it was easier to blame someone else for the decisions he was too scared or cowardly to make.

You could only hope that you’d be out of here first thing in the morning before you’d explode.

Of course life had other plans.

You walked into the house across the street just as Maria tried to warn Ellie about Joel.

“But there are clearly things you don't know about Joel,” you heard Maria say. You stopped outside the window to listen.

“Oh, like how he used to kill people? I know about that,” Ellie said.

“So then you understand my concern.”

“He doesn't do that anymore,” Ellie defended him.

“He stopped killing people?” Maria asked and you rolled your eyes.

“Innocent ones. And Tommy did it, too. Are you worried about him?”

You chose that moment to walk into the house, finding Ellie sitting in the kitchen, Maria cutting her hair.

“Tommy was following Joel. The way you are now,” Maria said looking at you.

“No offence but you have no idea what you are talking about,” you said and she raised her eyebrow.

“I think I do,” she said, putting the scissors down.

“Yeah? You are comparing a fourteen year old girl to a fully grown man who had all the time in the world to step away and stop what we did back then. But he didn’t. He never stops. He’s a fucking…” you stopped yourself, taking a deep breath.

“He told me about you. About how he regrets leaving without a word,” Maria said.

You scoffed.

“Sure he does. He always regrets doing things after he did them. That’s why he never sent word that he’s alive.”

“That’s my fault. And he didn’t know that you’d be coming to look for him,” she said.

“That’s what family does. We look out for each other. But maybe we’re not family anymore. Come on Ellie,” you said and she got up from the chair immediately, walking towards you.

“Stop,” Maria said and you sighed.

“I’ll take her to the movies and you…. I think you, Joel and Tommy need to talk.”

“You’re angry,” Joel looked up at you as you sat down next to him. He was trying to fix his boots.

“I thought I wasn’t anymore but…. Fuck look around this place? I’m just so… Fuck I really want to punch him,” you groaned and Joel chuckled.

“I know the feelin’,” he sighed.

You let your head fall against his shoulder, closing your eyes.

You felt his lips on your temple.

„You gonna tell him?“ He whispered. Your opened your eyes, shaking your head.

„Don’t think he would care,“ you mumbled.

„I think you would be surprised,“ he said quietly.

You both sat there in silence for a moment.

„I’m weak,“ Joel said after a moment. You sat yourself up, your head turning to look at him.

„What do you mean?“

He sighed, not looking up at you as he focused on fixing his shoes.

„Lately, there are these moments where the fear comes up outta nowhere, and... my heart... feels like it's stopped. And I have dreams. Every night,“ he said quietly.

You carefully put your hand on his shoulder.

„What kinda dreams?“

„I don't know. I can't remember. I just know that when I wake up... I've lost somethin’,“ you saw the tears in his eyes. You knew something had changed in the last weeks. He was more quiet, staring of in the distance when he thought you weren’t looking.

„I'm failin' in my sleep. That's all I do. It's all I've ever done is fail her again and again. I fail you again and again. I see you die ever single night in my dreams and I…“ you put your arms around his shoulders, tears running down your cheeks.

„I can’t protect you anymore,“ he whispered and you tensed.

„I’m gonna… I’m gonna ask Tommy to take her. I’m just gonna get her killed. Both of you. I know it. I have to leave…“ you did not give him a chance to continue, jumping up from your position.

„You gonna ask Tommy to take her? What about me? You gonna just…. Let him take me too? Because you know I won’t leave her. We’re all she has Joel,“ you said, your voice getting louder.

„You could stay here. It’s safe. You would be safe…“ he said but you shook your head.

„Stay here with Tommy? Super happy Tommy who finally got the right woman pregnant?“ You yelled.

He said your name, pleading but you shook your head.

„You know, I should have seen this coming. I knew I would end up alone. First him, now you… I really thought that you felt…“ you shook your head, „How silly of me to think it would be different with you…“ you laughed bitterly, stubbornly brushing the tears away.

You took a deep breath.

„One day you are gonna wake up and realise that the only reason why you feel so alone, is because you pushed everyone away. Because you think you don’t deserve to be cared for. Tommy, Ellie…. Me….,“ you shook your head before you looked at him.

„Don’t bother asking Tommy. I’m gonna leave with her first thing in the morning. You’ll never gonna see either of us again,“ you said before you turned around, ignoring him calling after you, hoping you’d made it back to the house before you broke down.

You hadn’t even crossed the street when you heard your name being called, Tommy’s familiar voice startling you.

You just walked faster, not bothering to stop.

„Please just…“ you felt his hand on your shoulder and you whirled around, glaring up at the man you once loved so much.

„Leave me alone,“ you gritted through your clenched teeth, before turning away from him.

„It’s what you Miller’s do best,“ you called over your shoulder before you made your way back to the house.

You laid awake in bed when you heard the door open.

You had told Ellie in the most gentle way that it would only be you who would take her to the fireflies. Of course she had questions, and you promised her to answer every single one once you were on the road.

She had fallen asleep rather quickly before you made your way to the biggest bedroom. You just laid down on the bed, fully clothed staring at the ceiling as the hours passed by.

You were broken, you had been for a long time.

The only thing you could always count on to keep you going was Joel.

He was your rock and part of you always thought you were his. Even when he was with Tess or any other women. At the end of the day, once he needed someone to talk, to really talk to, he always came to you.

He held you when you found out you were pregnant after Tommy left.

He was there when you woke up in pain, he was there when you found out you lost the baby.

He was always there.

And along the way you fell in love with him.

You turned your head to look at Joel who was standing in the door just looking at you.

It was like there was something in the air all of the sudden, the hairs on your neck standing up as his eyes moved over your body, his gaze lingering on your lips.

„I’m sorry,“ he said quietly, slowly walking towards you.

When you didn’t say anything as he stopped in front of the bed he slowly sat down, reaching for one of your hands. You were too tired to fight him.

„You were right,“ he started, his thumb running over the back of your hand, his head turned down.

„I keep pushing you away because I’m so fucking scared to lose someone else I…,“ he shook his head.

„I care about. I care about you so much, it scares me. It would kill me if something happened to you, because I was to weak to protect you. And I… I can’t lose you. I just can’t. I wanna keep you safe and….“

„Joel….“ You interrupted him and he looked at you as you slowly sat yourself up so you were kneeling on the bed next to him. You reached the hand he was not holding up, your fingers brushing over his cheek, his eyes closing slowly as he released a shuddering breath.

Your hand lingered on his skin, your fingertips rubbing over the corner of his lips and his eyes flipped open, finding yours.

„You know I love you, right?“ You whispered and his eyes softened for a small moment, before he nodded.

„Then please let me in and let me love you,“ you said before you leaned in and kissed him softly.

He tensed for a moment before one of his hands came to the back of your head, deepening the kiss, pulling you closer, his other hand on your back.

„Joel,“ you gasped, your hands pulling at his shirt until he parted from you, taking his shirt off. You let your hands wander up your chest before you pulled your own shirt off, leaving you in just your old bra.

„Fucking beautiful,“ he whispered before he kissed you again, slowly leaning over you until you were laying in bed with him above you.

Joel slowly kissed down your throat, your chest until he gave all his attention to your breasts. He sucked on your nipples through the thin worn fabric of your bra until you sat yourself up, almost making him fall off the bed, both of you laughing as you took it off, a groan leaving his mouth, one of his hands palming himself. You bit into your bottom lip before you got closer to him, your fingers opening his belt buckle, then his pants.

He stopped you before you could get any further.

„Let me make you feel good first,“ he whispered, kissing you forehead.

„Later,“ you said, looking at him, something in his eyes darkening as he saw the lust in yours.

Within seconds you both were naked and he just looked at you in awe as he knelt between your parted legs.

His hands wandered up your thighs, his fingers running shivers over your whole body, your back arching.

„Please Joel,“ you whispered, your hands coming to rest on his hips until he finally leaned down and kissed you, one of his hand wrapped around his cock as he swiped the head through your wet pussy, teasing your clit with it, making you moan.

He lined himself up, kissing you deeply as he slowly entered you inch by inch, both of you panting against each others mouths.

„Shiiiit, you feel perfect. Fucking perfect,“ he grunted before he began to move, thrusting slowly inside of you, his arms wrapped around your body, his lips all over you.

No matter how close he was, you wanted him closer, your arms wrapped around his back, pulling him against you as he continued to fuck you deeply.

He kissed away the tears that escaped your eyes, overwhelmed at finally being so close to him. Holding him. Feeling him.

He made you cum twice before he pulled out and came with a groan of your name, his cum spilling all over your stomach.

He cleaned you up after, holding you close, kissing you until you fell asleep.

While he watched over you, praying to whatever god there still was, that you would forgive him.

You didn’t stir when Joel left your bed after he watched you sleep until the room slowly filled with light at the upcoming sunrise.

You didn’t feel it as he kissed your forehead before he slowly got up from the bed and got dressed, grabbing his bag.

You didn’t hear his whispered „Forgive me“ as he stepped out of the room.

You were sleeping so deeply you didn’t even hear Eliie argue as Joel walked her out of the house.

Not looking back towards the house you were sleeping in.

The first thing you noticed was that you were warm. You hadn’t felt warm in a long time. Smiling to yourself you slowly opened your eyes, frowning immediately as you noticed how bright it was outside.

Your eyes found the old cock on the bedside table, widening as you noticed that it was already around noon.

„Shit,“ you cursed, your head now turning to the other side of the bed where Joel had laid next to you only to find it empty.

A uneasy feeling washed over you as you took the room in, finding it vacant of anything that belonged to Joel.

Suddenly fully awake you jumped out of bed, dressing yourself within seconds before you walked out of the room and across the hallway opening the door to the room Ellie had been asleep in.

Empty.

Your breath came in short pants, your throat squeezing tight, the beginnings of a panic attack making their entrance as your hands started to shake.

Shaking your head you tried to get your lungs to fill with air, your back leaning against the wall behind you.

Tears were springing into your eyes.

He wouldn’t just leave you after last night. Right?

Not after he….

A knock on the door let you jump up, running down the stairs, opening the door to find the wrong Miller brother standing in front of it, his expression one you could read without words.

„He’s gone, isn’t he?“ You whispered.

Tommy only nodded.

Taking a deep breath you looked up towards the ceiling, shaking your head slowly.

„Talked to the council. You can stay here as long as you want. Gotta take up some work at some point but there’s no rush…“

You scoffed.

„You must be really delusional if you think I am going to stay here,“ you said, looking at him. You were still angry, but more so tired. Tired of always being the second choice.

He said your name, almost pleading.

„I’m sorry for not telling you before I left. I thought it was easier to just… rip the bandaid off. I knew you’d be okay. You’re one of the strongest people I ever met. And I… I just couldn’t stay there with Joel and….“

You wanted to tell him then.

To tell him that he broke that strong person he thought you were.

Finding out the day after he left that you were pregnant with his child, broke you.

And you couldn’t tell him that to this day you blamed that the stress of him leaving made you lose the baby you never got to meet.

It wouldn’t help anyone to tell him.

„I am going to get my stuff and I want a horse and some supplies. Then I’ll be out of here. I can’t keep doing this…“ you said.

„No, No please stay. I want to… I want to make this right between us. I promised Joel I…“ Tommy began, but you held a hand up, stopping him.

„Maybe you and your brother should try talking to me before making all the decisions for me. A horse and some supplies. You owe me that much. After that I’ll make sure we never cross ways again,“ you didn’t wait for his reply, turning around and marching up the stairs to pack your stuff.

An hour later you were settled on top of a horse called Diamond. Tommy had gotten you the supplies you asked for, even a first aid kid and walked next to you as the gate opened.

„Where are you gonna go?“ He asked.

„Away,“ you only answered, even though you had a clear destination in mind, before you took one last look at him. You saw his wife standing on the end of the street, watching you.

As you looked back at Tommy you realised that you felt nothing for the man who was looking up at you now.

„I know you love him,“ he startled you.

„Pretty sure he loves you too, so once you found him, don’t be too hard on him. We Miller’s a stubborn bunch of people who only want to protect the people we love. Even if it ends up hurting them even more,“ he said, keeping his eyes on you.

„Take care of your wife,“ was all you said before you kicked your legs to ride out of Jackson.

The town you found shelter in seemed abandoned enough to rest until this blizzard passed by. It should’t be more than a days ride to the university of the fireflies now, but you could not make it in this storm. So you bunked down in a abandoned house, the windows and doors already barricaded making sure Diamond, your horse, had something to drink and eat in the garage before you bunked down in the surprisingly tidy house next to it.

You even found some food, including long expired peaches that brought a small smile to your face as you thought about how much Ellie would love them.

It was on the next morning that you heard a noise outside. You made your way into the garage, finding Diamond getting nervous too.

You petted her nose before you slowly risked a glance outside of the broken window of the garage, your eyes widening when through the heavy snow falling outside, you could make Ellie out on top of a horse.

You put your jacket on and opened the door, startling the girl who now had her riffle pointed at you.

You held your hands up and her shoulders fell as she realised who you were, starting to sob.

It was then that you noticed that the horse she was sitting on, was dragging something behind it, the air leaving your lungs one one gasp as you realised that it was Joel.

And he was not awake.

„How long?“ You asked Ellie, willing your fingers to warm up as you dug through your first aid kit.

Ellie had helped you carry Joel inside. Now she was sitting on the little sofa, her tears still running down her cheek as she watched you.

„Three hours ago? Maybe more? I don’t know. We… We were at the university and we…. We were almost out when that man….“

You were closer to the university than you thought then.

You were dying to walk over to her to soothe her, but Joel was your first priority. He looked very pale, his lips blue from the cold. With shaking fingers your unzipped his jacket, fighting down the whimper as you saw how much blood he was still loosing, your hand immediately pressing down to stop the bleeding.

Ellie had made a good job with the bandage she had put on his wound.

He didn’t even stir.

„It was a broken baseball bat. He… he pulled it out and he was okay at first but then he… he… he fell and now he’s not….“

„Ellie,“ you said and she looked at you with wide wet eyes.

„You did the right thing. He shouldn’t have pulled it out but there’s nothing we can do about it now. I am… I am gonna try to fix him, okay?“ You said, nodding as if to make yourself believe that you could.

She mirrored you.

„Can I help?“ Ellie asked.

„There’s a bathroom upstairs. Get as many towels as possible and then get a bucket with snow from outside. Snow from the top. We need…. We need to clean him. But I don’t have… We….“ You took a deep breath, stopping your ramble.

„Towels and snow, got it,“ she said, throwing her backpack down before she made her way upstairs.

You took a deep breath, sucking your bottom lip in.

„Don’t you die on me Joel Miller, I still have to yell at you“ you whispered as you leaned down, to kiss his temple before you used the scissors of your first aid kit to cut his shirt open.

It came to you on the day after, that the only stitches you ever did were on Joel Miller’s body. You had stitched a cut on his upper arm almost fifteen years ago. Then a bulled wound on his hip.

But that was nothing like what you were dealing with here.

You had used the little bottle of disinfectant to clean his wound as best as you could, before you stitched him up and he had not even moved a muscle through all of it.

It was sometime during the early morning hours that he stirred, waking up only enough to ask after Ellie, falling back asleep immediately when you came into his line of view, his whispered name on your lips.

You and Ellie had pulled him in as many blankets as possible to get him to warm up.

It was like you checked the wound hourly to make sure it wasn’t bleeding anymore and somehow in the early hours of the afternoon it seemed to stop.

Ellie was spending almost all her time outside in the garage with the horses after she woke up. She wasn’t talking much, but she had told you that she was glad you had found them.

A groan made you jump up and you found Joel’s eyes flutter open, taking in his surroundings until his eyes focused on you, whispering your name, his voice hoarse.

„How are you feeling?“ You asked softly, coming to kneel next to him, your hand on his cheek.

„Like I got stabbed by a bat,“ he groaned and you felt the tears springing into your eyes as you smiled sadly.

„Not the time for jokes Miller,“ you said and he sighed, his head turning in your hand.

„Ellie?“ He asked.

„In the garage with the horses,“ you said and he nodded slowly.

„'Am sorry,“ he said and you shook your head.

„It’s okay,“ you said and now he shook his head.

„Was a shitty thing to leave,“ he grunted.

„Yeah it was. And I am gonna yell at you for that, but only once you are all healed up,“ you promised with a small smile, your fingers brushing over your skin.

The door flew open and Ellie ran in with wide eyes.

„There was someone out there,“ she said and your eyes widened before you got up while she knelled down next to Joel who was trying to get up.

„Wait here with him and do not let him get up,“ you instructed Ellie as you made your way out into the garage.

The windows of the whole house were barricaded so the only way to actually look outside were the broken windows over the garage door.

You carefully stepped onto the chair you had found inside to look out of the window and you could see three men walk down the street, as if they were looking for something. They didn’t look like they were raiders, not carrying any kind of bags or supplies on them. And only one was holding a handgun. You were glad that it had continued to snow during the night, covering up all the tracks that led to the house.

You watched as they rounded the block, noticing how thin they looked as they walked back the way they came from, unease washing over your body.

„They must be around here somewhere. How far can they get? Rodrick fucking stabbed him with his bat,“ you heard one of them mutter as they walked past the house, your heart stopping.

They were looking for Joel.

For Joel and Ellie.

You had to get out of here.

You watched them until they had left the street, before you got down from the chair.

Still in your thoughts you made you way back inside the house.

The longer you thought about them the more uncomfortable you became. You had the same feeling a couple times before, the last time just before you made it out of Kansas City, a city you only barely survived.

Both Ellie’s eyes and Joel’s were on you when you entered the room.

„It would be better for Joel to stay here and heal but…“

„We have to leave?“ Ellie asked and you nodded.

„I…They are looking for you. I heard them talk,“ you said as you knelt down on the other side of Joel who was looking up at you. You put your hand on his forehead, noticing that he was running a little hot.

You would need medicine for him. You only had some expired aspirin. That wouldn’t help him if his wound got infected.

„We’ll leave first thing in the morning,“ you decided, hoping that it would be for the best.

It was a four day ride back to Jackson.

Four days that felt like four weeks.

Joel had been strong enough to get on his feet on the morning you left and both Ellie and you had helped him up into the saddle before you got onto the horse in front of him, using two belts you had found upstairs to strap him against you, his arms coming to wrap around you.

You heard every groan of pain he let out as he tried to keep himself up on the horse.

On the second day, once you were far enough away from the town you felt him burn up, mumbling against your ear, his head resting on your shoulder.

It was getting harder to keep him on the horse with you, Ellie riding next to you, her worried eyes always on Joel.

More than once he told you to just leave him and get both you and Ellie to safety but you and Ellie were having none of it.

When you saw the gates of Jackson you were almost crying, Ellie galloping in front of you even though you called after her to slow down, hoping they wouldn’t just shot her on sight.

But then the gate opened and for the first time in a long time you were glad to see Tommy Miller running towards you, already yelling commands out.

The next hours were a blur.

You pretty much passed out the moment you knew Joel was taken care off. You woke up to beeping in a dark room, only a little lamp on the table next to the bed you were laying in, your eyes immediately finding Ellie who had cuddled on the bed next to you. You carefully put an arm around her before you noticed someone else in the room.

Joel was laying in the bed next to yours, the constant beep of the monitor telling you that his heart was still beating.

You closed your eyes, releasing a shuddering breath as you tried to keep the tears in that were threatening to escape your eyes.

Ellie shifted in your arms and she turned around, her arm sneaking around you, her eyes looking up at you.

„Thank fuck you’re awake, these people around here are weird,“ she said and you huffed a laugh, hugging her closer.

„How long…?“ You asked but she interrupted you.

„We came here yesterday just before dinner. Breakfast was two hours ago? I’m not sure,“ she mumbled. You both jumped when the door opened, your head turning just in time to see Tommy walk in, followed from an older man.

„You’re awake,“ the man said and you sat yourself up, the sudden move making your head spin.

„I’m Carl, I’m the town doctor,“ he introduced himself to you before he walked over to Joel.

„Is he gonna be okay?“ You asked.

„Thanks to some medication and some generous blood donations,“ he eyed Tommy, „he should be making a full recovery. Nice stitches,“ he complemented and you released a relieved breath.

„You should have seen the blood transfusion, it was super gross,“ Ellie said with a shudder that made you laugh.

„I want you to rest too. You were severely dehydrated. That must have been some exhausting couple of days for you,“ he said, giving you a small smile before he looked at Tommy and left the room.

It was quiet in the room for a moment as you tried not to look at Tommy.

Ellie suddenly sat herself up with a hum.

„Weeeeeell this isn’t awkward at all, so I’m gonna go and get us some food,“ she announced before she jumped off the bed and left you alone with the Miller brothers.

For a long time the only noise inside the room was the constant beeping of Joel’s heart monitor.

„Why did you leave without saying anything?“ You finally asked and Tommy shifted in the chair he was sitting in.

„I couldn’t stay. Joel was…. He was getting more and more reckless. Then there was the fucking drugs. I wanted to… I though I could make the world better. just couldn’t stay there. I couldn’t watch him destroy himself any longer. And I am sorry I didn’t tell you. You didn’t deserve that,“ he said and you nodded.

„I know the things we all did were horrible. They haunt me too. And Joel…“ you look at him, sleeping in his bed.

„He was never the same after Sarah,“ you whispered.

„We all weren’t. We just dealt with it differently,“ Tommy said and you nodded.

„Are you gonna stay?“ He asked and you sighed, looking at him. There was no point in keeping a grudge anymore. Not after what happened. You were safe. Ellie was safe. Joel was safe and hopefully close to being okay again.

„I have to tell you one thing,“ you decided. He deserved to know why you had been so angry. Why you blamed him for every single bad thing that happened after he left.

„Okay,“ he said, nodding at you.

„On the morning after I found out your left, I also found out that I was pregnant,“ you said quietly, seeing his eyes widen, before he took a deep breath.

„I’m not telling you this to make you feel bad, I am telling you so you can understand why I was so angry and hurt,“ you explained.

„I can’t keep blaming you for every bad thing that happens to me,“ you whispered.

„What,“ he cleared his throat, „what happened?“ He asked.

„I lost it six weeks after you left,“ you said with a sad smile, your finger brushing the tear away that ran down your cheek.

He looked wrecked.

„I’m so fucking sorry,“ he shook his head, his hand running through his hair.

You shrugged.

„It just wasn’t meant to be,“ you sobbed, cursing to yourself as you turned your head to hide your face against the pillow.

„Fucking hug her,“ you both heard Joel grunt and you almost jumped up, your head spinning again.

„Joel, thank fuck,“ Tommy said before he jumped out of his chair as he saw you get out of bed on shaky legs. His arms held you up as you stumbled towards Joel’s bed who gave you a painful smile.

„Come on, let’s get you into bed,“ Tommy whispered before he helped you sit down, pulling your legs up onto the bed as you carefully laid down next to Joel, his right arm opening for you.

You put your hand on his chest, careful to not hurt him as you inhaled his familiar, if somewhat sweaty, scent.

„I’ll leave you two alone,“ Tommy said as he looked at the both of you, but you were already asleep.

„I’ll take care of her,“ Joel whispered before he kissed your forehead.

Six weeks later

„I fucking hate math!“ Ellie groaned, letting her head fall against the table.

„Language!“ Joel called from the kitchen and she rolled her eyes while you held back a giggle.

„Nobody likes math,“ you assured her, your arm wrapping around her shoulder.

„Why do I have to learn it then?“

„Because that’s just the way life is. We all have to learn shit we don’t want,“ you said, you both laughing when Joel again called you out on your cursing.

„I am a fully grown adult, Mr. Miller, leave me alone,“ you yelled towards the kitchen, only to hear his footsteps seconds later before he appeared in the door, both of his hands on his hips, giving you an exhausting head shake.

„What am I gonna do with you?“ He asked before he walked over. You let go of Ellie’s shoulder as he stepped closer, his lips coming to kiss your cheek.

„Ugh gross,“ Ellie gagged, jumping out of her seat.

„I’m gonna go and ask Dina to help me with math!“ She said, running out of the house, the door falling closed behind her.

„She forgot her homework,“ Joel said, now kissing your neck.

„Mmmmmhhh….“ You nodded, tilting your head to give him more space, his lips wandering up your neck.

One of his hands sneaked to the front of your shirt until his palm softly palmed your breast.

„Think you’re up for some…. Biology?“ He asked and you giggled, getting up from your chair to turn around, your arms crossing behind his neck.

„Birds and bees again?“ You said, playfully annoyed while he nodded, all serious, before you both broke out in laughter.

„We gotta work on your flirting, Miller,“ you said before you kissed him, shrieking when his fingers pinched your ass.

„Love you,“ he mumbled against your lips and you smiled.

„Love you too,“ you whispered before you let him guide you towards your bedroom.

#my fic #Joel Miller x fem. reader #Joel Miller #Tommy Miller x fem. reader #Tommy Miller #Pedro Pascal #tlou #tlou fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction

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myntrose · 2 months

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ೃ⁀➷partners in crime ︻デ═一

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ft: Alastor x gn! reader

summary: It's another night at the hotel. Everyone is lounging around the shared space, or sitting at the bar. With a boost of confidence (and a few drinks) Angel finally asks the burning question everyone had : How did you and Alastor meet?

cw: demi! Alastor, established relationship(married), Alastor and reader meet when they were alive, reader is an assassin , killing and mild gore (it's alastor yall), a lot of petnames, no use of y/n, no beta we die like men

a/n: it's the way alastor got me smiling and kicking my feet. he got me to break my 1 year hiatus LMAO. also, I am aware that he's ace. I myself am somewhere along the demi spectrum, so this fic is purely for comfort n coping. if you don't like it, pls ignore :,D

wc: 1.5 k (1,469 words)

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾────────────────────────────────☽༓･˚⁺‧͙

The hotel common was filled with low gentle music and idle chatter. Vaggie and Charlie were on the couch, talking about everything and nothing. Nifty was running around chasing some poor roach. Even Cherri was here, with Sir Pentious attempting to flirt with her once again.

Husk was behind the bar, in ordinary fashion. Although he was mostly listening and doing his job, he would occasionally chide into the conversation the other two residents at the hotel were having. Angel was in the middle of telling you about how much of a headache Val was, while you gave him you condolences. It seemed like the only person missing was the radio demon himself, who was probably in his tower, making a new broadcast.

"Speakin of which..." Angel, who noticed Alastor's lack of presence, noted "I got a question for ya toots. How is it that tall, red and creepy managed to bag you as a partner? You're sweet and all, I get that. But how did you even meet-"

The loud slam of drinks caused the peace within the hotel to halt . Husk shoots a stern glare towards Angel, almost to warn him, be cautious about asking question's about Alastor and his darling, you never know if he's listening.

"It's alright, Husk" You send him a sincere smile. While he would never trust your husband, he can't help but believe your words.

"Well, Angel, let's start with this. If you've ever wondered why I'm down here in the first place, it's because of the occupation I had when I was alive. That's actually how I met Alastor."

Oh, maybe you were a thief and were trying to steal something from Alastor. Or maybe a detective that was on the case to solve his murders. Or maybe-

"I was hired to assassinate one of his targets."

oh.

You couldn't help but laugh at Angels' reaction. Sure, you were kind to those in the hotel, and definitely not as threatening as most overlords. He, and most people you met in Hell, just assumed you committed some mundane crime and got the unfortunate eternal punishment .

Taking a small sip of your drink, you start to recollect the unforgettable night that would define your current relationship.

It was supposed to be like any other job that you were given. Your employer would hand you a file, you would find the target, and get paid in return. Maybe it wasn't the most ethical way to make money, but hey, you knew how to kill so you made it work.

You had followed your target into the bar, while waiting away in the corner. Though your eyes were focused on them the entire night, you couldn't help but feel another pair of eyes on you.

It was probably some random patron in the bar, you guessed. It wasn't for another hour when you noticed that your target had left the vicinity.

The streets were dark, with the occasional street light every block or so. It was perfect place to finish your job. All you needed was for your target to turn into some alleyway, and as quietly as you followed him, you'd quietly go for the kill-

Quietly. Hold on, why was it so quite?

Looking up the street, you noticed that what was once where your target stood was now empty. There was no way he outran you, given that you would have heard his footsteps. To the right of you were the woods, maybe he took a detour?

No, everything felt wrong. Every single thought in your brain was screaming to run, to grab your gun that was hidden beneath your coat, to get out of here-

"Careful my dear, we wouldn't want you getting hurt now, would we?"

A cold blade found its way to your neck. Two very disturbing facts became known to you. First, was the fact that the blade was already stained red. And second, you were about to be the second kill of the night.

A million thoughts ran through your mind. Was this how you were going to die? How fast could you grab your gun? Would your employer be pissed off that you died in the job? With your eyes shut closed, you waited for the knife to make contact.

"Now now, there's no need to be so scared my dear! My, you look like a deer in headlights!"

...what?

Opening your eyes, you're met with the mysterious man who just had his weapon on you seconds ago. He seemed vaguely familiar, probably having seen him at the bar you frequent.

"It seems that I've caused you quite a scare. Do know that wasn't my intention. I just wanted to see for myself this new assassin I've heard so much about! You've caused quite the gossip, my dear. Makes good conservation."

You continued to stand in silence, with the initial shock of almost dying wearing off now. As mad as you were that you got caught, you were equally confused on just who this man was. With some more listening to his voice, the answer popped into your mind.

"You- you're that new radio host! Alastor, was it?"

Alastor's smile grew at the acknowledgment. "Indeed I am! Glad to know you've heard about me."'

Had anyone walked into the conversation you two were having, they would have assumed it was one between new acquaintances. In which one has a knife in their hand, while the other has a gun.

"You see, my dear, I've heard quite a bit about your line if work. While I am more than capable of... dealing with others, I propose that we work out some sort of deal. One where you can finally stop working for that employer of yours, and actually make a profit off your talents."

Alastor put out a hand, waiting, watching to see how you'd respond. It's been a long night for you, and you had a feeling that this wouldn't be the last time you saw. Plus, if working with him meant you'd finally have to stop answering to your boss, then why the hell not. You take his hand, before agreeing to this proposition.

"...and since then, we've been business partners. Our relationship kind of just happened after a few moths."

It was nice to look back to when you first met your now-husband. Looking around the bar, you noticed that you weren't just talking to Angel. At some point, unbeknownst to you, everyone at the hotel had come over to listen to your story time.

"Well toots, I figured you had to be some sort of crazy to date smiles, but I guess it takes one to know one." Angels says while taking a shot, still reeling with that fact that someone as kind as you was a killer. Head nods and murmurs of agreement spread within the group.

Before you could say anything, a pool of dark clouds appeared to your side. From the shadows, the very man you were taking about stood before you.

"Hey, Al."

He faces you with his signature grin, before turning to the rest of the residents.

"It seems that I've became the topic of conversion while I was gone! It's quite interesting to see how interested you all are in with me and my dear's meeting."

The hint of annoyance in his voice was entertaining, to say the least. You place a hand on his shoulder, barely hovering above it.

"Aww, come of Al! They just wanted to hear how we first met! Besides, it's a fun story to tell."

"If "fun" means almost killing ya for the first time, I'd hate to know what you guys did when you started dating-" "Shut up Angel!"

You answer a few questions that were asked before everyone eventually returned back to their previous endeavors. Husk and Angel eventually sit around with the others in the common room, leaving just you and Alastor at the bar.

"It's kinda funny, now that I look back at it."

Alastor doesn't say anything, promoting you to continue.

"That night, I almost turned down that job. I was painfully tired, and all I wanted to do was go home. It's crazy to think that we wouldn't have met had I not pushed myself to take the job."

Anyone who knew Alastor would know that him asking for a partnership was simply outlandish. Hell, Alastor himself questioned why he was seeking you out in the first place.

No, underneath he knew. He knew from the first time he saw you. It was a different time from when you both officially met. When he saw you, someone so seemingly innocent, skillfully take down a man twice your size, he knew that he had to meet you.

"Well, mon chéri, it's good that you did."

#alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x reader fluff #alastor x you #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin alastor x reader

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black-lake · 4 months

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astro observations 11

your astro granny is back, I've been doing this for so long omg. some of it is venting, like always, so ignore that, but maybe don't you may find words of wisdom there. anyway, enjoy. also warning, it escalates to heavier subjects fast 🪐 🔭

——

🕰️ Virgo and gemini risings can pull off any type of glasses, sunglasses, bug-eye glasses, cat-eye, mirrored ray-bans, you name it. They even look cute with goggles no joke. They also make the smart and academia aesthetics look so cool and elegant in a chaotic way, not in a taurus capricorn way but in a- 'I spilled coffee on my boss's laptop this morning and I'm still talking about it way- because omfg- did you see the way they looked at me? it's like I've done it on purpose or smth but I didn't, not sure if they have a crush on me or they fucking hate me, what do you think? I'm pretty sure they don't hate me tho, but I can't tell, do you think I should quit?' 🎙️🎬

🕰️ I recently looked up George Clooney's chart and omggg, it all makes sense. The moon conj saturn in capricorn, giving him that nostalgic wise aura along his taurus sun, uranus and pluto opp ascendant kind of indicating finding his perfect partner later on in life, venus in aries and mars in leo, he's fiery but that fire so damn well contained with all the earth. His asc and jupiter in aquarius, yeah only an aquarius women with so much air and intelligence can maintain his attention and lock him in lmao. His synastry with Amal Clooney reminds of that of Ryan Reynolds and Blake Lively. Manifesting a relationship like this for everyone reading 🧘🏼‍♂️✨

🕰️ Personal planets in scorpio 10° or 22° is a sexy mf combo, esp moon, venus, mars and asc, it gives bedroom eyes and seductive domineer, also godmade bone structures. 🗿

🕰️ Pluto opposite or square ascendant, a very classic aspect for friends/coworkers/admirers/people in general turning enemies and talking shit behind your back. This aspect can easily make people speculate, overanalyze your actions, assume things, spread rumors and lies about you out of jealousy and intimidation.

🕰️ Any planet conjunct the desc can bring the physical manifestation to that planet's shadow side, up to 10°. It can conceal traits of that planet in the sign it’s in, as it’s descending and escaping the sun’s light. Pluto on the desc brings a few shadow traits out of people and conceals their true intentions from the native. So the native has to face those traits, learn to see them from miles away, to discern what people’s intentions are and whether it's that or their own perception and fears. In other words, they start from naive to paranoid to bs detectors, and it takes a long painful journey to get there.

🕰️ Even tho personal planets on the desc are much easier to see and handle, venus on the descendant can bring shallow traits and empty promises out of people, mars on the descendant, not as easy, can bring out anger, toxic masculinity and aggression. Saturn on the desc can bring immaturity, irresponsibility, immoral and disloyal behaviors out of people, stagnation, delays in connection and loneliness, pushing the native to learn patience and endurance. The native will meet people with such traits over and over again until they learn to spot and discern them faster and take the right action. ☔️

🕰️ I’ll keep talking about it in this blog cuz it’s always been one of my biggest challenges. What I learned with pluto on the desc is that you will keep attracting the same kind of enemies to challenge you if you don’t own your power and stop diluting yourself for someone else's fragile power hungry ego, because people will have a problem with you anyway. Also don’t hold too tight to anyone, never be afraid to lose people, because trust me you will. Almost no one is meant to stay in your life, they’re meant to transform you and leave. The only thing you’re meant to rely on is your power and independence. The moment you see it the easier cutting ppl off becomes.

🕰️ I have venus in aries and I find myself always having a girl crush on celebs with this placement, Rihanna, Marilyn Monroe, Audrey Hepburn, Elizabeth Taylor, Jennifer Aniston. They all seem to share that fiery independence mixed with a childlike but fierce demeanor which I admire, plus they never age. 🐈‍⬛

🕰️ I have mercury in aries and mars in scorpio, but for some reason I’m fascinated by people with mercury in aquarius and mars in sagittarius, with mercury in aqua I always expect something fascinating about their minds but I can't guess it cuz it's always different, but females with mars in sag omggg the sass is hilarious, I can’t help but laugh when they get blunt, loud and shady out of nowhere lmfao.

🕰️ Speaking of placements I’m fascinated by, what’s the deal with moon in taurus? I keep thinking it must be… nice.. to have? people that have it are so grounded and serene it makes me think it’s the best moon sign. If you have it please share the emotional difficulties you experience, because I can speak of every moon sign emotional traumas in detail but for some reason I be romanticizing this one. ☕️

🕰️ Another placement I really admire is moon conjunct saturn, there’s just something unspeakable, that isn’t tangible (even tho they have timeless mesmerizing eyes) but on a soul level I can sense their wisdom and nostalgic aura. It’s like there’s a balance of feminine and masculine qualities which come out in their mannerisms. People that have it, Timothée Chalamet, George Clooney, River Phoenix, and every hot man ever.

🕰️ Have you ever asked yourself why Morgan Freeman has such deep unique and easily recognizable voice? It's his mercury conj uranus in taurus. Who else has an easily recognizable voice, Kim Kardashian, mercury conj uranus in scorpio.

🕰️ Having the axis of virgo-pisces over your sun-moon, like virgo sun opposite pisces moon, or mercury-moon can give someone a soft voice, their voice can even be therapeutic and healing. Think of Michael Jackson's speaking voice.

🕰️ The hardest aspect in any chart for me are oppositions or squares to pluto, saturn and chiron. These are easily the most challenging aspects you can find in a chart.

🕰️ Those that have lilith/pluto in the 1st, 6th, 7th, 10th, 11th tend to have haters in their workplace, in groups or wherever they go often. It’s saddening but I’ve seen it a lot. Can also make ppl copy your style or attitude then hate on it, and never admit they got inspired by you.

-- potential triggers in the following one, pls skip if necessary.

🕰️ Difficult planets on the angles, saturn, pluto and chiron mainly can truly mess with someone's mental health to the point of them wanting to- yeah that. The most drastic effect is when they sit on the descendant and MC, since it deals with connections, groups of people and the public, a lot of it is outside of the native's control, and at times more than what they can handle. Their usually painful past experiences and memories has shaped their perception of the world to a dark and despairing one where they don't see a better future for themselves. A few examples, Kurt Cobain (chiron and saturn conj desc and pluto conj asc all tightly opposing), Mac Miller (chiron conj desc, saturn conj asc and pluto conj MC). Marilyn Monroe (chiron conj MC and saturn close to the IC, pluto conj nn).

🕰️ I see every major astrological transit as a collective test, lesson and preparation for the next transit. It made sense that corona happened when pluto was in capricorn, a pandemic that restricted our freedom and made us prisoners in our own homes. There was a stellium of mars, jupiter, saturn and pluto all in cap the moment quarantine started in march. It was all about teaching us to respect societal rules and structures that keep us safe, whether it had to do with the government or the medical system, whether it was real or fake or real fake. Yes you have to give up some freedom for safety, that’s how surveillance and security cameras everywhere you go work, for your safety.

🕰️ It taught us to care for the health of humanity, to live responsibly and respectfully when in crisis, even if that means compromising our freedom and limiting our movement. Trusting that the structure built over the past decades is somewhat reliable and helpful. We saw how some people put their own freedom above anything and anyone out of superiority, that's the selfishness we collectively needed to face before pluto moves to aquarius and we are given freedom we didn't learn how to appreciate or use responsibly. We had to learn the value of personal freedom vs discipline and structure.

🕰️ There are two planets I’ve seen repeatedly in people that manifest like magic, saturn and neptune. To add a third it would be uranus. Conjunctions and oppositions to these planets are like superpowers in manifesting your desired reality. All work in different ways.

🕰️ For example people that have personal planets conjunct saturn (esp sun and moon) are easily attuned with the physical world and have some sort of control over time, turning it backwards or forwards, making themselves look younger and older at the same time, knowing the actions to take to bring anything into the three-dimensional world.

🕰️ Now this leads me to an astrology book I recently came across, the Alien Constructs the work of Edwin Steinbrecher and Stephanie Jourdan, discovering aspects that constitute an alien chart. The alien construct occurs when one of the outer planets, that is saturn, uranus, neptune or pluto, is conjunct or opposite the sun, moon, ascendant or the chart ruler. An individual that has one or few of these is different from other humans, they possess supernatural abilities, and typically have rough childhoods and adolescence.

🕰️ Every aspect with each of the outer planets has a unique ability, for example when the sun conjoins an outer planet it's called Power Alien Construct, the moon conjoining an outer planet is a Vessel Alien Construct, an outer planet conjoining the ascendant is an Instrument Alien Construct, an outer planet conjoining the descendant is a Shadow Alien Construct. Saturnian aliens are able to manifest things in the physical realm, plutonian aliens are masters of metamorphosis and irreversible change, uranian aliens are able to see the future and raise energetic frequencies.

🕰️ Sun conjunct pluto is Plutonian Power, aliens are able to destroy that which is not built upon truth, understand the true nature of birth, sex, death and power, generate energy and power, integrate polarities, perform psychic surgery, see beneath solid surfaces, shape-shift into animals, minerals or plants, heal utilizing sex, magnets or lasers.. etc. Moon conjunct uranus is a Uranian Vessel, aliens are able to comprehend the cycles and trends of the futures, safely corral erratic energy or electricity, channel high-frequency beings, telepath to imprisoned or trapped individuals or animals, sense the formation of inventions and innovations. Look it up, it's fun and tell me what alien construct are you and how you relate to it. oh it reminds me of a post I did a while back of aspects as superpowers.

Happy pluto in aquarius 🛰️✨ (will come back in years and see how this aged)

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alphabetboyluvr · 10 months

Text

once the thrill expires | jjk

title credit: cardigan - taylor swift

pairing: college!jungkook x female reader

synopsis:

your housemate-turned-fwb takes another girl home after a night out

warnings: angsty, smutty turmoil. it's not that bad, but it definitely isn't a happy lil number. fingering, oral sex (f receiving), rimming (f receiving), vaginal sex, doggy, protected (!!) sex, lil spanks, jaykay sorta makes out with her ear???, jaykay is a fawk boy who needs to learn self-control, oc is holding out for something that'll never happen, multiple partners in one night (jk), jk calls the reader diz (dizzy)

wordcount: 5.8K

note from holly: virgo boy trauma for you in the form of a jk one shot lmao. it's rare you get virgo boy shit laid this bare but he he i love oversharing on the internet! there's an old paragraph from yet another virgo boy fic hidden in here, too so if you think it looks familiar, that'll be why!!

minors dni // cross posted to wattpad

The knock on your en-suite bathroom door comes as a surprise.

The subsequent twist of the lock mechanism from a coin wedged in the bolt on the other side does not.

There’s only one person it would be.

And so you don’t yell. Don’t tell him to go away, even if you do hug your legs into your chest a little tighter.

Sitting on the floor of your shower, dignity is preserved - but with skin as red as the flags that Jungkook freely hands you, and mascara staining your cheeks from the onslaught of piping hot water showering down on you, how dignified can you really be?

No words are spoken as the steam billows from the room, Jungkook not caring to shut the door behind himself. He takes a perch on the closed lid of the toilet, elbows to his knees, tattooed hands clasped beneath his chin. Refuses to look anywhere other than you.

There’s perplexion to his taut jaw - a frown embedded in his brows - but more than anything, there’s an overwhelming sense of confusion in his soft eyes. You’re unaware of the way he’s mirroring your expression back at you; how defeated you look, wet hair sticking to the side of your face, an emptiness in your gaze that is pale in comparison to the void in your chest.

With nothing but the pitter-patter of your shower to fill the space, you’re thankful that he can’t hear the way your heart is beating, or how you’re sniffing back the tears you were freely crying before he arrived.

“Jem messaged me,” he eventually says, quiet beneath the sound of the water. Leaning back, he wipes a palm over his face, then pushes it back into his dishevelled hair. Lets his hand fall between his legs, then shrugs as he looks at you as if to say, 'Don’t look at me like that' or 'It’s not my fault.'

And realistically, you know that it isn’t. Whatever he’s done is within the parameters of what was agreed upon. The way you feel - like Jungkook has stolen the moon and stopped the tides from turning - is not.

It’s not like either of you had ever expected to let things get this far, and definitely not for this long.

What had started as quiet kisses in the corners of clubs when your friends weren’t looking, had catapulted into drunken hook-ups after those aforementioned nights out.

He’d call you Dizzy, ‘cause he was convinced you looked at him like you’d been spinning in circles, all awe-struck and smiley. Pretty. Like a giggle was on the tip of your tongue at all times.

Was easy, back then. Convenient. He was newly single. Not looking for anything.

You’d been quietly harbouring an illicit crush on him from the day you moved into your shared university accommodation. Had been waiting for the stars to align - and once they had, you were certain that soulmates had to exist.

It’s the only way you can explain the small earthquake that happened half the world away at the very time you first met, the tectonic plates shifting to make sure you were perfectly presented to one another.

You didn’t feel the tremors - would have been impossible - but your heart certainly felt something. Adrenaline? Limerence? You’re not sure.

Whatever it was only became more and more prevalent with every tipsy hold of his hand on the way to clubs, or moments stolen in secrecy in the house you now share with six of your friends.

Now in your final year of university, if you spent as much time studying, as you do fretting over Jungkook - what he’s up to, who he’s with - maybe you’d get a first-class degree.

You’re on track for a 2:1.

He’s on track for a first, though.

You choose to believe it’s because he’s naturally more academically inclined (as if you didn’t write an entire paper for him last semester), and not because he spends significantly less time thinking about you.

There’s no need for endless thoughts, though.

The arrangement is simple: You’re friends.

Best friends. Spend all your time together. Are plus ones to events. Fill the void that a partner should fill; at the winter balls, cinema screenings you don't want to see alone, and in the hushed privacy of midnight intimacy. He gets you off when you need it, and you him.

Kisses are never shared between lips - apart from that one summer when he accidentally said he was in love with you, then took it back a week later under the guise of not wanting to ‘ruin’ the friendship.

You don’t speak about that summer.

Hook-ups are in your room, always, ‘cause you’ve only got Jem in the room next door. Jungkook’s room is up on the middle floor, surrounded by all the boys. They’d realise what’s going on far too quickly.

It’s simple - yet excruciatingly complicated when there’s a lack of commitment, and Jungkook looks at you in the way that he does.

His lips are a little deeper than their usual pink this evening, but you put it down to alcohol.

Denial is a wonderful thing, and delusion even greater.

Still, he leans forward to push the shower door open. Leans further still, then knocks the tap off. Lets the water trickle down the drain, the hum of the pipes murmuring like your unspoken grievances.

Rivulets of water chase down your skin. Jungkook watches one race from your knee to your ankle, running straight over the bruises from messy nights out and the small cut at the bottom of your calf from the fountain you’d both traipsed through when you were a little too merry a few nights prior.

He’d given you a piggyback the entire way home, blood staining the white of his shirt; the very essence of you embedded now in the fabric of him.

He’d patched you up after you got home. Showered with you, right here, then carried you the measly five or six steps to your bed. Had told you that you’d definitely get sepsis and die. Kissed it better, then decided he didn’t know any better, and trailed his lips up your leg. Took pity on your impending death and gave you a little, lovely death just to soften the blow.

Funny, how you think sepsis would be preferable over whatever the fuck it is that you’re feeling now.

“Jem messaged me,” he repeats. Presses his lips together, the ring in the corner of his mouth glistening under the white lights of the bathroom. “Said I should check on you. Been in the shower for an hour, apparently.”

Well, you think to yourself, bitterness wrapping around your words like poison ivy. You’ve checked. You can go now.

The words don’t manifest in your throat. Nothing does. Not even the echo of a sob you’ve been holding in since he first stepped foot within your sanctuary.

Instead you’re silent as you get to your feet, not caring for your nakedness. It’s nothing Jungkook hasn’t seen before. Probably knows your body better than his own at this point. Can look at the faded bruise on your chest and know that it was left there by his lips last week. Can pick out which ones of your dainty linework tattoos were there before he met you, and which ones have been acquired since.

It’s a quiet intimacy, the way Jungkook looks at you. There’s no towel in the bathroom - an oversight by your tipsy brain when deciding you needed to wash yourself clean of the man in front of you after arriving home from the club - and Jungkook doesn’t care to offer you one.

Insanity is the product of looking at your body, he thinks. Can’t remember a time he’s ever seen you like this and hasn’t wanted to be inside you. He’s a simple man in pursuit of simple pleasures, and the way you fit him like a glove is the simplest pleasure of them all.

“Hm?” He questions your lack of a response.

His deep black eyes are just like the depths of the ocean floor, and it feels like he’s dragging you right down every single time he looks at you like this. Softly. Tenderly. Sweetly. As if he actually gives a shit.

There’s no room for two in this bathroom. It’s not a space designed to be shared, no matter how many times you’ve both squeezed into the shower under far different circumstances - though now you come to think of it, perhaps they weren’t so dissimilar.

It was always Jungkook’s pursuit of pleasure that put you in that position, just like it put you there tonight.

“Hey,” he says quietly, as you turn to leave, his grip on your waist pulling you between his legs. You don’t look at him. Just keep your head turned to face out of the room - but you make no attempt to leave. Especially when his nose brushes up against the bottom of your ribs right between your breasts, and he husks, “Why are you being like this?”

The softness of his lips as he presses them against your sternum, long lashes splayed across the top of his cheeks, has you spiralling. Kind of feels like he’s twisting a corkscrew through your heart. You know he’ll rip it right out - but maybe you’ll let him, if it means he’ll kiss the wound better.

“Hmm?” He hums. One of your hands rests on his shoulder, the other in his hair, and that’s how Jungkook knows he’s rectified the damage done for a short while. It’s like putting washi tape over holes punched in the walls - useless, and bound to fall off eventually, but ever so pretty in the meantime. Another washi-tape kiss is pressed to your skin, a little higher this time. “We had a good night, didn’t we?”

The tenderness of his voice rewrites the events of the evening. A good night.

Not one with tears, and jealousy, and arguments that people who claim to be just friends have no business having. A night shared together, perhaps, with no one else to intrude.

Didn’t we?

You so prefer this false chain of events - the one where he left the bar with you, and held your hand in the cab ride back just like he’d done in the cab ride there.

“Is she still here?”

He’s surprised that you’re mentioning it. Half-expected you to act like it never happened. Like she never happened. Is what you usually do, whenever he goes home with someone that isn’t you.

Still, he just continues to gently stroke your sides. Doesn’t present you with any sort of weakness.

“No.”

“Did you fuck her?”

There’s a little venom to your tone; the poison ivy around your thoughts sprouting now from your throat.

Her. Some inconsequential girl that neither of you will likely ever see again. Looked nothing like you, but a hell of a lot like his ex.

“No, Diz,” he softens the sternness of his tone with a name only he calls you. “I didn’t fuck her.”

You’ve no idea if this is a lie or not.

It’ll be accepted as truth for an hour. Maybe two. Just enough time for you to convince yourself that you’re the one he wants. That he couldn’t bear to fuck anyone else. That he sent her on her way after a kiss or awkward fumble, because he realised no one else could feel as good as you.

You’ll ignore the fact you know he’s here because Jem messaged him.

You’ll ignore the fact he thinks you’ve been in the shower for over an hour, and has no actual knowledge of the events of it all.

You’ll ignore the scratch mark on his back, and in the morning you’ll believe it was you who left there even though your nails are bitten right down.

The lies you’ll tell yourself will be far more grand than the ones Jungkook ever tells you. Nobody can ever hurt you quite like you hurt yourself.

And so, against your better judgement, you let him follow you to your bed.

There's a clang as he tosses his rings down into the ceramic dish beside your bed. It's white, and speckled in tiny black dots, and matches the one Jungkook has in his own bedroom. Not really a surprise. He was the one who bought it for you. Before then, he used to just tuck his rings beneath your pillows - but he kept losing them, and he found it annoying having to rummage around for them whenever he was trying to make a silent exit so as to not wake you.

You tell yourself that small things like this are Jungkook's way of integrating himself into your life; creating permanence. In reality, it's just something that makes it easier for him to leave.

Leaving is the last thing on your mind right now, though, and it will be until he comes.

It used to be different. He used to stay. You convince yourself each and every time that he’ll do what he used to do before things got so confusing. That he’ll stay, and that things will be okay.

You let him kiss your skin, but he’ll never kiss your lips. Let him lay claim to your body, even though you know he’ll never lay claim to your soul.

It’s nice to pretend.

Nice, when he lays you down and rids himself of his shirt. Nice, when he presses your legs apart, and looks at you like you’re the first woman he’s ever laid eyes upon. Nice, when he says shit like, “Such a nice cunt,” and “Let me make you feel good.”

So nice, when he strokes up and down your inner thigh, eyes trained on your pussy.

So, so nice when he slowly drips a little spit between his pursed lips and watches as it trails down your folds.

So fucking nice, when he spreads you with his index and middle finger, groaning at the sight of you.

See, Jungkook can be nice. Can be honest. Can tell you how much he wants you, and you can believe him without having to do mental gymnastics over it all.

As he sinks his middle finger into you - “Shit. So wet for me, aren’t you?” - Jungkook is on his best behaviour. He’ll make you feel so good that you’ll forget he ever made you feel bad, cause he needs this. Needs you.

Not in the life-debilitating, earth-shattering, universe-bending way that you need him, but in a way that isn’t too dissimilar.

You’re his best friend. He loves you in his own, curious way. Would lay his life on the line for you. Just can’t seem to keep his dick in his pants for no other reason than selfish gluttony.

It’s his fatal flaw, but he just thinks everyone has them. That most people are like this.

Of the seven deadly sins, Jungkook wields them all. Too proud to admit his wrongdoings. Greedy in his need to have everything life can offer, and how he refuses to limit himself to just you. His lust and gluttony go hand in hand - yet whenever any one else with similar predispositions look in your direction, he turns green with envy. Green, until he’s red, wrath taking hold.

But he’s lazy, too. Far too settled in how easy it is to have his way with you. Why would he try harder when you never make him?

That’s your cardinal sin: desperation.

It reeks. Spiced vanilla and black cherry. Tarnishes your skin, until Jungkook licks it from you.

And so as his lips press down your legs, wet and wanting, you don’t object. In fact, you don’t really do anything. You just allow it to happen.

Because you are desperate - for him, his approval, his desire. His heart.

You’ll never get it, mind you, for his heart is hollow.

Saw every example of what he considered to be true love crackle and crumble until it fell apart. Parents divorced. High-school sweetheart cheated. Love, as you know it, doesn’t exist in Jungkook’s understanding of life.

You never stood a chance. Not really.

The only times his heart is full is when he steals enough adoration from yours, and cosplays it as his own. Shines it back at you, and tricks you into thinking that maybe he did mean it when he mumbled false declarations into your lips.

But that was three summers ago, now, and Jungkook is a creature of habit. Too stuck in his ways to ever change. Comfortable in this chaos with you.

‘Cause while the other girls are fleeting, and fun, and always very nice, they’re never comfortable. Not like you are.

“I liked your dress tonight,” he whispers, as he pushes a second finger into you. Pumps them gently, palm skywards, coaxing soft little moans from your lips. Curls them just right, just like he always does.

The affection of such a compliment rids you of the haunting way he’d looked at you earlier that evening.

Up, down. No smile. Turned away to change the song coming through the aux at pre-drinks. Didn’t look at you again until he was passing out shots for everyone to take. Just nodded towards your necklace - the one his hobbyist silversmith mother made you for Christmas - and asked, “You like it?”

The pendant is small. Embossed with the letters DJ - the name his mother collectively calls you whenever you spend the summer together at his place. The hammered edge of the pendant matches the ring that wraps around your thumb. Another one of her creations, gifted to you by him for your birthday.

“Of course I do,” you’d said. Seemed silly for him to ask. You wear it most days.

“Good,” he’d nodded, then took his shot and pretended as if he wasn't all too aware that your dress would be attracting good-for-nothing men all night.

See, Jungkook knows you like the necklace. Had just been reminding you of it, and the fact it’s his initial on there with the initial only he calls you. Well, him and his mother. Goes with the territory.

She’s seen you through your formative years. Only ever sees the good parts, because Jungkook orchestrates it that way.

She doesn’t see the moments like these, when he’s crushed your self esteem and tries to fix it in the most idiotic of ways.

The necklace pools around the base of your throat as your head tips back into the pillows, his thumb coming to toy with your clit, gently pressing down.

“Shush, Diz,” he smiles, so pleased to see your body responding in the way that it always does. “You’ll get us in trouble.”

God forbid the people you live with - who’ve all heard the arguments after his illicit encounters with randomers, and seen his face of thunder whenever you’re getting ready for first dates - ever figure out you’re fucking. Not like it’s obvious in the slightest. Not why Jem texted Jungkook, instead of checking on you herself.

Biting onto your wrist, you try and stifle the impact of his touch - ‘cause if they do hear, it will be your fault. You’ll be the reason everyone knows your dirty little secrets. You’ll be the one who ruins it all. Not him. Just you.

He doesn’t mean to condition you in such a way. Doesn’t even really realise he’s doing it.

Nor do you - but your self esteem is shot to shit. You’re good enough to fuck, but not good enough to love, even if Jungkook insists that there’s no one he adores more. It always comes with an add-on of ‘you’re my best friend’, or ‘you wouldn’t wanna date me anyways’.

Maybe he’s right.

But maybe it would have been nice to try.

Shame.

The pace of Jungkook’s fingers pumping into you begins to slow. Leaking around the base of his knuckles, you’re just as wet as you always are with him. Even when the emotional labour of letting him have his way with you feels like a ten tonne weight on your chest, crushing down on your ribs and spoiling you forevermore, your body still wants him. Only him. Always him.

Withdrawing his fingers, Jungkook taps the outer side of your thigh. “On your front for me, Diz. Face down, ass up.”

With anyone else, Jungkook is far more often on the receiving end. It’s a shame, ‘cause his talents go to waste, it’s just what he’s found to be typical of random hook-ups.

He loves pussy. Loves eating it. Loves that you love it, too.

Slow as he spreads your ass with his hands, Jungkook really doesn’t fuck around with wasting time. He dives in without hesitation, burying his tongue between your folds. Cares not for accuracy, nor carefulness. Just wants his tongue all over you.

Your body lurches forward, hands clutching onto the duvet beneath you. He’s always been like this. Hungry. Just as desperate as you so often feel, but better at hiding it than you are.

His tongue laps against you. Sinks into your soaked hole as deep as he can get it. Uses one of his hands to reach around and toy with your clit while he continues to explore somewhere he knows like the back of his hand.

Pulling back a little, Jungkook’s breathing is heavy. You can hear it. Groan, as he grips your ass again. Spanks it softly, then get back to his previous position. Licks a stripe from your clit up to your leaking cunt, then continues. Flicks up against the tight muscle you rarely let him fuck around with.

But you want him to want you. Want him to have you in whichever capacity he so desires.

You reach back. Tangle a hand in his hair, and encourage him to massage your tight hole with his tongue, like you know he loves to do.

It’s kinda cute, in a way. He likes doing it, ‘cause he loves the way it feels whenever your tongue toys with his ass. Assumes other people must love it too. Just wants you to feel good. Wants to right his earlier wrongs.

He continues to trace up and down both your holes, stimulating your entire body in the process. Rubs your clit with his fingers, till you're writhing against the sheets, body pressed flat to the cotton as Jungkook begins to fuck his fingers into your again.

“You gonna cum for me?” He husks, a smile on his wet lips as he watches the tell-tale sign of an orgasm rush over you. Soon, you’ll be looking at him with dizzy eyes once more, and your namesake will make Jungkook feel things he pretends he can’t feel. “That’s it, Diz. All over my fingers. Good girl. Good fuckin’ girl.”

There’s a relief that comes with your orgasm for Jungkook. Hope that you’ll stop being mardy with him. He doesn’t like it when you don’t like him. These days, he keeps making choices that make it hard for you to like him.

But you always like him - like him so much - in the comedown of a climax.

He doesn’t give you much time to recover. Wants to coax a second orgasm from you while he still can. Pulls you back into position - face down, ass up - and pushes down his sweats. Cock hard, there’s a small damp patch in his boxers from the precum he’s leaked for you. Lines himself up.

“Let me fuck you,” he begs before he pushes into you.

“Uh-uh,” you full forward a little, preventing him from doing what he so desperately wants to do. Turning to look over your shoulder, you shake your head. “Condom.”

He furrows his brows. Has the audacity to look fucking offended, as if he didn’t bring another girl back to the house you share.

You’re stupid, and you’re desperate, and you make all the wrong choices, but you aren’t naive. Not really. Your delusions and denial are always elevated away from reality, of which you like to think you have a firm grip on.

And so you simply say, “Don’t believe you didn’t fuck her.”

He doesn’t deny it. Shakes his head, not that you can see it. Just reaches to the shelf above your bed, and gets one from the pot you keep them tucked away in. Rarely ever use them. It’s a novelty, more than not, when you use them. Something to make him last a little longer.

It’s different today.

Today, it’s because you don’t know if his cock is fucking clean or not.

It should crush you, but it doesn’t.

Just a fact of life. Jungkook fucked someone else less than three hours ago. Came, probably. For someone else. Over someone else. Inside someone else.

But that desperation of yours is back once more. You want to be the reason why Jungkook loses his mind in temporary bliss. To be better. To be his last memory of the evening.

And so as Jungkook rolls the condom down his thick shaft, you position yourself perfectly for him. Whimper as the tip of his cock kisses your entrance. Whine, as he pushes inside you.

“That’s it,” he husks, gripping your ass cheeks to spread them nice and wide. Looking down to where your bodies meet, Jungkook is reminded of why he enjoys you so much. No one takes him so well. No one. He knows this. Doesn’t know why the fuck he ever feels the need to seek out anyone else. They’re never as good as this. “Fuck. That’s it, baby.”

Your hips roll back, ass bouncing in that hypnotic way he always swears will ruin him. His grip loosens to let you do the hard work, one of his hands stroking up your spine until it’s resting around the base of your throat.

Taking back a little control, he keeps your head pushed into the pillows. Grunts. “Take this cock so fuckin’ well, don’t you?”

The mumble you moan into the sheets isn’t enough for him. He always does this. Asserts control and then realises he actually kinda fuckin’ hates it. Fingers still wrapped around the base of your neck, Jungkook pulls you up.

Chest pressed to your back, Jungkook wastes no time locking you in place with an arm around the front of your waist. His cock continues to pump upwards into you, the movements a little subdued but by no means lacking.

The ridge of his thick head rubs up against your sweet spot. Gets you so fucking needy. Has your hand dipping to your clit to match the pressure.

And when you do? Oh, it’s heaven. You can’t help but whine - so Jungkook uses the hand that isn't on your waist to cover your mouth.

“You only get to cum if you’re quiet,” he tells you. “Be quiet for me, baby.”

But his hips are erratic. The sounds are lewd; skin on skin. It’s wet. Disgusting. Needy. Him, just as much as you. Sweat blossoms on his skin, keeping you both in this clammy haze of hedonism.

Catching his lips on your ear, Jungkook doesn’t care if he isn’t supposed to let kisses linger so close to your lips. Tongue wet, he intrudes. Licks the shell of your ear. Grazes his teeth on your lobe. Whispers, “You looked so pretty tonight,” then drags his tongue across your ear.

Cares not for precision nor accuracy, just the fact that this is an area of the body he doesn’t often explore, and that maybe he should do it more often, given how tightly your pussy is clamping around him.

There’s something about it - the obstruction of one of your senses likely to blame, sound distorted whenever his tongue licks against it - that makes you whine.

You can’t even really do that now. Are too muffled beneath his hand - until he pushes the two fingers that had been inside your pussy earlier into your mouth.

The taste is just the same as it always is whenever he does shit like this. Loves having you taste yourself. Experiencing what he experiences. Wants you to know exactly why he’s incapable of letting you go.

“Slutty little mouth,” he smirks against your ear. “Gonna finish in it.”

“Mhhm?” you mumble against the fingers you’re keeping wet and warm for him.

“Mhmm,” he replies. Presses a kiss to your temple, ‘cause he isn’t really thinking straight. Groans when your cunt clenches from the touch. “God, you want it, don’t you? Want it so bad. Wanna swallow my cum.”

Of course you do. You’ll take what he’ll give you.

Your mumble around his fingers isn’t enough. He wants to hear you say it. Frees your mouth of himself. Grips your chin between his forefinger and thumb. Turns you to face further over your shoulder.

He’s just gonna make you say it. Just make you say something lewd to get him a little closer. Just… Just gonna… Just...- Oh, fuck it. Your lips are just there, and they’re wet, and they’re pouty and - God, forgive me - perfect for him.

His eyes flitter between your eyes and your lips. Is aware you’re doing the same.

“Kook,” you whisper, as if you’re about to reprimand him.

“Please,” he begs. Thinks he needs this just as much as you do. Maybe even more so.

And so somewhere between the overwhelming acknowledgement that this is a catastrophic chain of events, and the promise of a happy ending (of which you know damn well will never reach fruition), you let him sink his lips into yours.

You’re pretty in war, and even prettier in defeat.

Jungkook thinks you’re prettiest when you’re all his.

You think that to be his is to accept an eternal loss.

The breath of his nose is heavy against your cheek as his lips press into yours, brows furrowed. The need for you to be lewd is abandoned, ‘cause Jungkook doesn’t even think he’ll last long enough for it. Thinks that nothing gets him closer than the flavour of your lips.

Hips still jerking up, the sound of his skin hitting your ass echoing around the room, Jungkook fucks himself into you until he can do it no longer. Pulls away. Rips off his condom. Tosses it to the floor. Gets you face down again. Wanks himself to the point of coming undone, hot spurts of cum dripping onto your ass and spilling down to the valley of your spine.

He’s the one moaning now, your body defiled by a boy who you wish would paint you in pretty compliments instead. Still, this is a compliment. Kind of. You’re hot enough to make him cum. That’s nice, you suppose.

“Shit,” he chokes out, breathing all out of sync, heartbeat far too rapid. A light spank is tapped against your ass, then softly stroked. He soothes. Aloe on sunburn. Milk with hot sauce. Pretty kisses in the comedown of a rough fuck.

You won’t get those. Wasn’t a particularly rough fuck, either - and yet it hurts so much when he gets up to leave.

It’s awkward. He doesn’t really say bye. Doesn’t acknowledge the fact he stoked a fire inside you that burned you from the inside out. Ignores the ashes that are scattered around your vessel, as if your soul has been ejected from its home.

He’s warm, when you look at him. That little part of your heart has been stolen once more. He’s just feeding it back to you.

“Sorry,” he says, a hand on your doorknob. “I shouldn’t- I mean, we shouldn’t-”

“It’s fine,” you offer.

That’s the thing about Jungkook. He’ll give you the world, then realise it was never his to give. Always has to ask for it back. You’ve lost count of how many times he’s fucked you, then acted as if was foolish - only to repeat the same mistakes the next evening.

It’s what he’s always done, and is what he’ll always do.

You’ll never learn.

The shirt you chuck on to head downstairs the next morning is his.

Far too big for you, it finishes around your thighs. Television blaring in the room beneath you, it’s obvious your housemates are awake, and even as you’re trudging down the stairs, you’re not quite sure you’re alive.

The headache of an overbearing hangover is threatening your life. You’re certain of it. The fact your housemates have the television set to what must be the maximum volume? Only further sending you to an early grave.

And yet when you see Jungkook sitting by the breakfast bar, hair in all different directions, a bowl of cereal in front of him, and smiling in the direction of whomever else is in the room, you find yourself smiling, too.

“Morning,” you say pleasantly as you walk into the kitchen, ready to flop your forehead down on Jungkook’s shoulder like you so often do.

Ready, until you notice the look in his eyes when he turns to face you.

Ready, until you glance in the direction of his previous smile.

Ready, until you see the girl who looks a lot like his ex-girlfriend and absolutely nothing like you leaning on the other side of the counter. Mug from your trip to Amsterdam together in her hands, and the shirt you got him for his birthday covering her body, she smiles.

You’re drowning.

“Oh,” you say, not looking at him. Only her. “I didn’t realise we had company.”

“Is she still here?”

“No.”

She’s awkward as she nods. “Sorry, hey. I crashed here last night - hope you don’t mind? It’s just you know what it’s like getting an uber at that time-”

“Yeah, yeah,” you nod. Smile. Jungkook thinks you look pretty - but of course he does. You look defeated. “Totally.”

“Did you fuck her?

“No, Diz. I didn't fuck her.”

“Jungkook said you were feeling unwell last night?” She tries to make conversation. She needn’t. You feel far more unwell now than you ever did last night - and that’s before you notice the pretty purple bruise forming on her neck. “How are you feeling now?”

Her care is kind. Considerate. Wholly wasted on you because you’re gonna lie, and say that you’re fine, even though it feels as if your lungs have been filled with venom spat by a lover who is incapable of loving.

Still, you don’t look at Jungkook. Just make your excuses. Leave.

And even though he knows that he should, Jungkook doesn’t chase after you.

He lets you go, because he knows you’ll always come back. You always do.

But if you don't?

Well, he’ll go back to you, and you’ll let him. Again, you always do.

From the kitchen, Jungkook can hear your showering starting up. Appetite lost, he isn’t listening to the girl in front of him. Isn’t even really sure of her name.

All that he’s sure of is that the fall out of this is not gonna be pretty.

#jungkook fanfiction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook ff #jk ff #jungkook masterlist #jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x oc #jeon jungkook smut #bts fanfic #byholly #angst #smut #jungkook x y/n #fuckboy!jungkook #college!jungkook #college au

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k-atsukibakugou · 6 months

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tw: alcohol mention, uhhhh stalking suggested kinda???? lmao w/c: 1.0k notes: uh inspired by the fact that i will lie to anyone and everyone when im drunk for the laughs especially about my name bc what are u gonna do?? say its not lmao?? might come back to this teehee

katsuki has watched the second guy walk away from you with a self-assured smirk, fiddling with a slip of paper between their fingers, numbers and letters scribbled down, and you with a victorious smirk of your own, a drink in front of you without your own purse in sight.

now, with the third approaching, and you smiling the same as you did at the two before, sucking the straw between your lips while glancing over at them through your eyelashes, repeating the same routine with the last two, you had the blond hero's attention. studying the way you played dumb, selling another lie about being from out of town; your first was you were here for your friend's wedding, the second a job interview, this guy got told it was your friends birthday, and she was in the bathroom.

katsuki had no idea how these guys didn't see through your act, the way you played with the necklace on your chest to draw their attention down, how you wrapped pretty lips around the straw to make them forget whatever it was they were saying, or how you'd adjust your legs on the soft leather seat to reveal a sliver of soft skin, sliding them your number after they'd buy you a drink. this guy buying you two, one for your friend of course.

"i'll show you around, next time you're in town," there it was again! you scribbled down a new set of numbers, the guy calling you a third new name! his red eyes narrowed watching you nod, standing up with the excuse of searching for your friend, leaving your empty cup on the bar, and the full one, "for your friend" in your hand. your latest victim walked back to his group of friends, waving the paper like it was a trophy.

katsuki watched you walk around the corner of the bar, behind a pillar decorated with overlapping papers, sitting on a chair one away from him. he couldn't help but stare, trying to dissect you like you were an experiment in highschool, watching your boot-clad legs cross, your bracelet sliding down your arm when you raised the glass to your lips, marring the new straw with your lipstick.

"take a picture, blondie, it'll last longer."

red eyes widen, looking back up from your hands to your smiling eyes, realising they were staring back into his, a smirk plastered on those pretty lips.

"hah?"

you throw your head back in a laugh at his embarrassment that you caught him staring at you, nothing but confidence in your demeanour, not a hint of anger that he'd been looking you up and down. i mean what else were those dress and boots for if not to get a little attention from a burly hero?

"too busy eyeing me up to listen?" his ears flushed, hardened eyes boring into yours, but you weren't intimidated by his glare, only finding humour in the situation.

"i heard you." his voice is gruff, eyes darting back down to his drink when you slid a seat over, reminding him of a snake with your silent, fluid movements, the start of your routine he realised. you'd selected your new victim, your cup half empty and in need of a top up.

your knuckles brushed his when you leaned an elbow on the bar, eyeing him the same way he had you, noting the flash of orange under the collar of his hoodie, "so what, blondie, you want an autograph or something?"

your lips were upturned at the edge in a teasing grin, eyes glinting with mischief, "or should i be asking you for one, dynamight?"

his eyes flicked back to yours, your eyebrow quirking at his response, your smirk dropping to make way for a knowing smile.

"what about you, huh? what's your name?" you shuffle closer again, opening your mouth to respond when he interrupts, "an' none of that shit with those other guys,"

he lists off the names you'd told them, his voice slightly higher, poking fun at your flirtatious tone when you'd lied to the other men.

"you heard all that?" your head was thrown back in a laugh again, eyes crinkling at the edges, "you wanna know my real name, hero?"

he nods, trying to look as bored as possible as you spoke, as if the mystery and confidence surrounding you wasn't like a magnet, like your voice wasn't a siren call.

you say a name, a shocked look flashing over your features when he shakes his head, "not a chance, snake."

you narrow your eyes, but your smile remains unchanged when you say another. he shakes his head again, making you playfully roll your eyes at him.

"why don't you believe me? these usually work." you're crossing your arms over your chest, one of your tactics, he's sure, your tits pressing together under the fabric.

he smirks now, knowing you didn't remember the blond from months ago, saving you from some low level extra in your street, probably only three streets away from here. katsuki remembered it like it was yesterday, the way he'd pulled you to his chest, out of the way of a car barrelling down the street, one you hadn't seen, your head low, tucked under a thick hood for winter. he was dressed similarly, a thick hood shielding his face when he'd caught you, the only recognisable feature his eyes under it.

you'd told him your name then, when he'd held your shaking body still and made you tell him your name, the date, and if you were hurt.

"why don't we do this, snake? i'll buy you a drink then you slip me your number like those other extras?" your face lights up, missing the mischief in his own tone, your arrogance blinding you when you agree.

he waves down the bartender, asking them to add one of your drinks to his tab, and then close it. you smile like a cheshire cat when the glass is placed in front of you, taking a sip before reaching over for the pen placed in front of katsuki.

your chair tips toward him when you move, your perfume clouding his mind, your soft fingers holding his wrist to write on his arm, scribbling down your phone number under a name. a name that wasn't your own.

katsuki grins looking down at it, heavy boots locking around the legs of your chair to drag you closer, your hands falling to the bar and his arm to steady yourself, "nice try, y/n."

© all works belong to @k-atsukibakugou, @gwen0m, and dlirious on archive of our own, do not plagiarise, translate, repost or recommend my work on other platforms or translate my works, i do not give permission for my works to be bound and sold. 18+ minors and ageless blogs do not interact.

#divider by me #「mercury writes」#「kat <3」#uh idk what this is #i was vacuuming and like teehee #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader

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saerotonins · 5 months

Text

the love that came back

ft. nanami kento x fem!reader

"what more could you wish for?

when the love you once lost, came back into your arms again,"

content warnings: jjk shibuya arc spoilers, angst, fluff if you really squint, little dialogues, going through grief and depression, pure pain, just reader's life through her perspective, implied major character death, bittersweet, depictions of the afterlife, happy ending (i promise)

wc: 4,933

note: i'll just be letting my feelings out because we're about to mourn LMAO enjoy!

inspired by and best enjoyed with: this love by taylor swift

October 31, 2018

when you heard a knock on the door, you expected kento to great you with a smile on his face and a sweet kiss to your lips.

but what you got instead is shoko right in front of your doorstep, giving you the news that your fiancée lost his life in the middle of the war across shibuya— then you felt like your world had crumbled right before your very eyes. he had promised. he had promised to come home to you tonight and come trick-or-treating and give the kids around the neighborhood some candies.

kento never breaks his promises, especially when it comes to you.

but there's always a first time, as they say.

you felt your knees turn into jelly as you fall onto the floor, eyes wide, and heart incredibly shattered. you couldn't believe what you were hearing, this must be a sick fucking joke. there's no way the love of your life is just gone like that. he doesn't fucking deserve this.

"i'm so sorry, y/n," you hear shoko said as she guides your limp body to sit on the couch but you could hardly hear her between your ragged breaths and the ringing in your ears.

what would her apology do anyway? would that sorry bring him back? would that bring him to your arms once again?

you feel your eyes swell with tears and let them fall off as they please. you wail in shoko's arms, you let out the loudest screams you ever let out in your entire life but none of those did anything to the amount of pain your heart is currently bearing. and for shoko, who has seen a fair share of gore and violence in her life, has never been so disturbed and heartbroken when she saw you wept and mourn for your lover.

that night when shoko left you on your own (not that she had the choice), you drank the fruit flavored champagne you usually sip with kento as he enjoys his whiskey, downing it like it was water but it tasted different.

there's this saying that alcohol tasted better when you're happy and around the people you cherish the most.

your sweet champagne started to taste bitter ever since, and a part of you died that day.

the days have gotten colder.

you miss the way kento's arms would wrap around you, you miss the warmth that he provided, something the heater in your shared home couldn't give.

you feel empty, everything has gone silent, and you hate it. at times like this, when kento is home, you would hear him hum with the vinyl he chose to listen to going along the silent rustle of either the newspaper or a book he had been looking forward to read.

now it's just silence. it's all new to you. you almost even forgot how your voice sounded like because you had no one to talk to.

for the past few weeks, your family and friends, even shoko had visited you to make sure you were okay. but whenever they try to initiate a conversation, they only get either a curt nod or nothing. they have also noticed the change you have been going through. the usual sparkle in your eyes gone, you've gone extremely quiet, your appetite has drastically changed, but they understood nonetheless.

a few days ago, with the help of his family and from the mercy of any entity that existed out there, the jujutsu tech was able to retrieve kento's body, whatever is left, that is— cremated him and finally held a proper burial. that's the least he deserves.

you asked if you could keep some of his ashes in a little urn, and his family, bless their hearts, agreed as they know that both of you share the pain of losing a loved one. there, it sits in his study together with his pictured frame. another one also sits on your chest, a necklace that holds some of your beloved. a piece of reminder that you and him will still be together.

you walk towards back to the living room, seeing the mess that has been made because truthfully speaking, cleaning up the house was the least pf your problems when you had a lot going through. it has been really rough. every night, at 7 pm, you yearn for the knock of your door, kento's voice declaring his arrival, "hon, i'm home," he would usually say.

now, it's all gone. the clothes he had worn the previous days still in the laundry bags, untouched, for the fear that his scent might go away.

it scares you. the thought of forgetting the sound of his voice, his smell, his warmth, his company, not being near your reach, terrifies you to the core. but you have to face it all. put on a brave face, live on a life where he doesn't exist anymore. but deep in your bones, your heart, and your soul.

he's still around.

he should be. he promised eternal life with you, willingly get on one knee to put on the prettiest engagement ring you had ever seen.

the saddest part is, he wouldn't be able to see you walk down the aisle. both of you had dreamt of a wedding so perfect. you designing your own gown that would compliment his, a small wedding enough for your family and closest friends, and a honeymoon trip to malaysia where you could just bask in each other's presence, forgetting everything and savor each moment.

he had promised you forever.

and kento never lies.

but then again, there's always a first time.

it has been months. nothing has changed.

you still feel so empty. nothing has changed around the house either. sure, the living room is clean enough but the bedroom you once shared with kento stayed the same.

you refuse to wash his clothes that was in the laundry basket, you refused to wash the bedsheets, you refused to even make up his side of the bed. and despite how much you missed him, you refuse to sleep on his side of the bed, fearing that sleeping over his scent would lose him completely. it was exhausting to yearn for someone you know is not going back, but you do it anyway.

from the tailoring shop you own, many bride-to-be's are going in and out to pick out wedding dresses with their pretty engagement rings decorating their hand. it feels like a slap to the face, angering even. why do these women have to be so happy picking out the perfect wedding gown while you're out there sulking, stuck with what if's and what could have been.

what could have been your gown? his suit? what could have your wedding venue look like? what could have happen in your honeymoon?

and when you realize that it will always stay that way, it fills you with envy, but more so with sorrow.

it's so unfair to be mad at these people who were lucky enough to find the one but you couldn't help it.

you just also hate the pity smiles they give you when you answer their question, "when's your wedding?" once they caught a glimpse of the engagement ring kento gave you with, "my fiancée passed away," with a forced smile on your face. you're just thankful they don't push you to answer any more questions.

the ring kento gave you is one thing that you will never remove. aside from your necklace, this is a reminder that kento loved you enough to propose, to ask your hand in marriage. that may not be enough considering your situation, but it is something, so you keep it around anyway.

when the shop has finally closed for the day, you come home, sit on his study and sketch more of the wedding dress ideas that you had on your what could have been wedding with kento. you have gone through almost 3 journals sketching everything aside from the dresses. it was venues, suits that he could've worn, your dress, and of course sketches of the both of you walking down the aisle.

whenever you sketch, a tear falls down, then another, and another, until you cry a river all over the page, not caring if the lead from the pencil is barely there due to the wet pages or the ink from your pen is smudging. when you go back to the pages, you see it. you don't mind that it has become messy, it represents the feelings that you have. the yearning, the grieving, the sorrow of a what could've been wife to a what could've been husband.

more months pass by and it's still the same.

it's empty, it's all routine. you wake up, wash your face from the dried tears that you wept from the night before, shower, get dressed, go to kento's study just to admire his face from the picture frame where his urn is placed and say your goodbyes as you kiss his pretty face through the the frame and off you go to work.

it's clockwork, but you don't mind. it's one of the few things that kept you sane, but a deep burning hole in your heart still fire ablaze, waiting to be set off. you doubt it will happen, but some coping might help, so you pretend that you don't mind.

when the night comes, you still prepare meals enough for two, it's muscle memory, you seem to master making portions of two and you plan to keep it that way. it's one of the only ways that keeps you alive. you either save the other half on the fridge or give them to your neighbors.

you had also convinced yourself to wash the bedsheets, but you always remember to spray kento's cologne on his side so it feels like he never left, but his clothes on the laundry basket remains untouched. you have gone through multiple bottles of his favorite perfume from spraying almost every surface of the house, it's expensive but it doesn't matter. as long as it helps to keep his memory, you don't mind.

your friends and family visit you from time to time, to check up on you. they know you're just putting a smile on your face, it's obvious, because your eyes don't shine like they used to, but that's fine enough for them. they also noticed how the house strongly smells like him, but they don't complain anyway.

and as you close your eyes, you take one careful sniff of his pillow that you have grown accustomed to embracing every night (but you know it doesn't feel the same but it would suffice), and drift yourself to sleep as quiet tears fall down.

today is a pretty quiet day. you took a week off from the shop but you're lucky enough that your sister is more than willing to help you. you've been doing nothing but cleaning around the house, watching shows, doing strolls across the neighborhood, visiting parks, and mostly sleeping. it wasn't the most productive way of spending your days off but these are just the things you do with kento when he was still... alive.

it was usually lively when you do it, but now it's quite different. the hums he would usually do to accompany the vinyl he is playing and the quiet rustle whenever he turns a page on his books, all gone. the silence is so loud that you could swear you can hear a hair pin drop. you could only hear the swirls of the fan and your breaths.

it's silent but it's deafening.

you stood up from the couch and decided to spend some time in his study. these months, you had been spending a lot of time there, doing whatever you can to bring some life into it.

kento has always been an organized man, not a speck of dust present or a single item misplaced. but ever since, you always thought that it looked like no one was there to inhabit it anymore. so, with a silent apology, you try rearranging things around, keep his lounge and study chair warm but that's about it.

once you entered his study, you remembered that kento has a lot of books left unread. he has been planning to get around and read it. but now he can't, the thought just broke your heart.

skimming through his shelves that was adorned with many books, one caught your eye. it was slightly misplaced, leaning towards another book with a bookmark sticking out.

kim jiyoung, born 1982, it read.

you remember this book.

October 24, 2018

"dear," kento had called out as you were scrolling through your phone with your head on his lap.

"you should read this book sometime, i think you'll like it," he said, making the book cover more visible so you can read the title.

"kim jiyoung, born 1982?" you read out loud.

"yeah, it's a very powerful book from what i've read so far, i think you'll feel the same way about it,"

you hummed, with the busy schedule around the shop, you're not so sure, "i'll borrow it from you when i finally have the time, besides, you can finish reading it first and tell me your thoughts about it, how's that sound?" you say with a smile on your face.

"sounds like a plan, but i can read it a lot to you right now?"

you like the idea he proposed, his voice is relaxing so you definitely won't mind.

"okay, but i like it better when you read it to me anyway,"

a small smile escaped from kento's lips as a playfully scoffs, "whatever you say."

you hear him clear his throat before reading, "when jiyoung was in fiftth grade..."

for the next few pages, you felt your eyes grow heavier as you heard his soothing voice grow quiet and let yourself drift asleep.

you regret sleeping on his voice that day. if you would've known it was the last time you would hear him read a book to you, you would've listened more attentively, record his voice, and listen some more. you feel your lips quiver as you feel tears threatening to leave your eyes.

you pick up the book and opened the page where the bookmark sits and you realize he's almost halfway through. you remember him saying that he'll get back to reading it after halloween once his schedule opens up.

guess that will never happen.

you sit on the lounge chair on the drawer where his urn and picture frame is placed. through shaky hands, you remove the bookmark and open the book wider.

"kento, i'm sorry if my voice isn't as soothing as yours but i will try and help you finish this, so just listen and relax, alright?" you voice is shaky and cracking, and you hope he won't mind, you he will listen just like you did, you hope he closes his eyes and rest wherever he is.

after releasing a ragged sigh, you read, "jiyoung's mother received information that the new..."

as you read through the pages, your ready becomes more and more sloppy, sometimes having to repeat sentences or words when you feel like you didn't say them properly. some of its pages soaked with your tears, and take deep breathes when the pain is caught up in your throat. you give kento a silent apology for ruining his books.

and you hope it's enough, because that's all you can do.

hope.

from then on, you finish book after book during your free time, slowly going through the unread books across his shelves. as time passes by, you may have gone through a lot of his books but reading them never goes easier. every time, you would flood the pages with tears, your breaths are never steady, and by the end of every reading, you would hug the book and close your eyes, sometimes creasing some of its parts.

and you hope he doesn't mind.

July 03, 2019

this is his first birthday that you would have to celebrate alone. and the thought breaks your heart.

as you set the cake on the table beside his picture frame and light the numbered candles.

you blankly at the flames on the cake. he would've been 28 today.

you take a very deep breath and started to sing.

"happy birthday to you," tears started forming in your eyes, singing the song out of tune and through your shaky breaths, "happy birthday to you,"

"happy birthday, my dearest kento," you take another deep breath.

"happy birthday to you." you sang for the last time before blowing out his candles.

another deep sigh. you kiss the pendant that sits on your chest, "i love you," and then the engagement ring on your ring finger, "so, so, much."

from then on, every time the 3rd of july comes around the corner, it becomes clockwork. you sing, blow the candles, kiss the pendant and the ring, and eat the cake all alone.

it never gets any better, though.

through the years you watch the numbers from the candles grow older.

but you know deep inside he doesn't. the ticking of his clock has stopped.

and so did yours.

October 31, 2019

you dreaded this day to come. on the same year, you managed to come across both of kento's firsts.

his first birthday without him celebrating with you and his first death anniversary.

ever since his funeral, you never had the will in you to actually visit his grave, where his family decided to bury his ashes. you were a coward, you admit.

but losing someone you loved the most is never that easy to get over with.

having to come face to face with your lover's grave is no easy task. you touch the tombstone where his name is engraved.

Nanami Kento

July 03, 1990-October 31, 2018

your soul will always be in our hearts

you sit onto the green grass, put your arms on his tombstone and rested your head over it.

for a while it was silent.

until a rain of tears eventually dropped.

"you're so unfair, kento," you said. your voice hoarse but considerably unnoticed as the pain took over. "you said you'd come home to me, but you didn't," you don't care if there were other people around you, you need to let go of the bottled-up feelings you had for the past year. and so you wail, and wail, and wail, and yell about how much of an asshole he is for leaving you alone. cursing every entity that exists for not protecting your beloved enough. the anger through your voice seeps in but you know deep inside that he's not an asshole. you're just mad and you don't have any way to cope but this.

but your cries have been met with silence, a daily reminder that he's really not here with you. and it breaks you.

"i love you so much, i miss you so much, i'm sorry for being mean. rest well, my beloved, you have done so much." you say and seal it with a kiss before going back home, if you could still call it that.

every year when this dreaded day arrives, you pick yourself up and go to his gravesite. but this time, you spend your time telling him new hobbies you picked up on, adventures you've gone through, and stories that you have already told him before.

when he was still around, he would ask some questions and reply with either a comment or a laugh.

but this time you were only met with silence.

conversations with him never sounded the same.

20XX

years had gone by without him. you didn't know how you did it either. every day is a new pain that you have to face but you suck it up anyway.

tonight is just a typical night, you were tired from managing the shop and just finished reading kento a book. nonetheless, you prepare yourself a meal as you feel your stomach growling.

as you sit down at the dinner table, you notice something incredibly wrong.

this is the first time you have prepared a portion enough for one.

that thought alone terrified you to the core.

every night you miss his voice still. you wish the voice messages that he left you on the phone would suffice but they didn't. through the phone, his voice doesn't sound as soft and as caring compared to what you usually hear when he's around. but it's not like you can do anything about it, can you?

you have gone through every voice message that he sent you, hundreds and hundreds of them, but you never get tired of it. it has been your lullaby for the past years. you convince yourself that this is the same as when you hear his words fresh from his lips, but you know it's not. it will never be the same. you miss the sound of his actual voice. every laughter, every chuckle, every syllable that escapes his mouth, you miss it.

the sound from your device isn't as comforting as it was, and it scares you to think that at some point, you will forget what his actual voice sounds like. you didn't like that thought one bit.

he had flooded your senses. his touch, his smell, his voice, his love, it had invade all of you and has become a part of you and you're afraid that one of those will be forgotten so you desperately try to keep everything alive.

even when he's not.

you're old now. wrinkles have adorned your whole body and you're not as strong as you used to.

but your love towards kento remained the same. it has become stronger, in fact. being old sometimes makes your memories a bit blurry but everything about your lover is something that you could never forget.

you browse through your photos in the album that has been left. you stroke through his pictures like you can still feel the heat through his skin. you miss the feel of his sharp features and the soft gaze of his eyes. you miss the way he would kiss every part of you and show you how much he loves you in every way possible.

everything still feels like it's yesterday. while everybody moved on, you stayed. deep inside you're still living in a time where kento was existing. you know he would've loved your nephews, nieces, and your grandchildren.

after him, you never loved anyone. you could never love anyone other than him. how could you, when he's all that plagued your mind, you keep on trying to keep his legacy alive, not a part of him forgotten, that he will always be remembered.

you've been diagnosed a chronic heart disease, but whenever a pain pangs in your heart, you're sure it's not your illness, but the pain of being left alone by a lover who swore to stay by your side.

you know you don't have much time left, and you have come to terms with it, happy, even. you want to meet your lover once again. you want to see kento right before your very eyes and reach him just like you did in your youth.

so by the summer, you have decided to visit kuantan, malaysia with your family.

it's the place you wanted to avoid the most but you know now for sure you're brave enough to visit it. he would've wanted you to go here, he wanted to go here. even if you're a little late, you're glad to make it just in time.

your eldest granddaughter have been guiding you along the shore. you bask in the fresh air and the sound of the waves from the ocean. every thing is so peaceful, but you wish kento was here to witness it with you.

you inhale the air with a weak smile in your face.

one of your nephews then had helped you tuck in for the night.

it was so peaceful. and for the first time in years, you have finally let out a big and genuine smile.

you feel your eyes getting heavy and you know it's going to be the last. and you've never felt any happier.

October 31, 20XX

you have finally died twice.

you were finally buried next to the love of your life.

in your funeral, your family used the picture you took a long time ago, back when you were 27, mourning and incredibly heartbroken for the lost of your lover.

the kind elderly photographer from the studio you took your photo from was confused as to why you could have been taking one while you're young and looking healthy.

"i don't want to pry sweetheart, but if you're still young and healthy, why are you taking a picture now?" she asked, but you don't mind it one bit.

"when i die i want to look like me and my husband were the same age," you answered with a big smile on your face.

since i too, died that day, you would add but decided against it.

the lady seems taken aback but appreciates the sentiment behind it anyway.

you let out a wide smile so that when both of your pictures are put beside each other, it would look like the one you wore when he was still around.

when you opened your eyes, you were greeted by the blue sky and a fresh breeze of air. you felt the grass tickle against your skin and it was pleasant. when you get up, you feel your body get lighter, it's as if you weren't old, that you were back from your youth. you looked on your arms and every wrinkle that you remember being present there was all gone.

you look around you and you see a very pleasant scenery. there were trees around and from far away, the splashes of the ocean can be heard. for some reason, everything feels light, including your heart. some butterflies swarm around you like you were a flower, you reach your hand out, letting some of them sit on the tip of your finger.

you were enjoying the company of the butterflies and taking in the beautiful scene before you.

"darling,"

you hear a very familiar voice, and your eyes immediately widen

this isn't a dream right? this is really happening, right?

you whip your head towards the direction of the voice and there you see it.

your lover, your soul, the love of your life, nanami kento.

he looks so ethereal, so peaceful, especially with the soft smile spread across his face.

you're dumbfounded but you take a step, and then another, and another, until you ran your way across the grassy field and leap into his arms. and it was—

oh.

it was so warm. just like how you remembered. you feel your tears fall from your face and weep as you bury your face on the crook of his neck. you decide to take it all in. you inhale his scent, one you have been longing for years, your hug tightens around him. oh he feels so warm. so, so, warm. it's like time has never gone by.

"i'm so sorry," kento said, apology obvious from his voice, "i'm so sorry i was weak—"

"no!" you say as you immediately face him.

"do not say that darling, don't, i know you have fought long and hard enough," you carefully lift your hand to touch his pretty face. you were shaking but you were careful, like he was something fragile, something you're afraid to break. when you finally place it on his face, he immediately leans towards your touch. "t-this is real, right?" he nods, his smile growing much wider, "we don't have to be apart any longer," kento declared with full confidence.

that sentence alone urged you to chase his lips onto yours, the kiss was full of yearning, it was passionate but never aggressive. all of those years, you share silent longings and the hurt between your lips. kento pulled you deeper into the kiss but he was careful enough to handle you gently. every apology was spilled onto both of your lips as you felt tears stream across his face, and that's how you knew he longed for you as you did for him.

without words, you knew how much kento appreciated you for keeping his memories alive. it was enough for you to know that he listened to every word you let out as you read the books in his study, every word that you sang during his birthdays, and every word that you let out whenever you visited his grave. he knew all of it. he watched you weep in sorrow which broke his heart because he doesn't know how to comfort you, but he greatly loved and cherished every gesture. and so, it is his turn to return all of it back to you.

and he now has forever to give you.

without words, you know what his lips spelled against yours.

i love you.

for once, the love that was once lost, the love that you had to let go free—

finally came back to you.

both of you have finally turned 28.

then, you feel the clock started ticking again until eternal ends.

another note: this is officially the first fic i wrote and i hope everyone enjoyed reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it. i feel like this piece will always be so dear in my heart. rest in peace, my beloved nanami kento, you have fought long and hard.

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