Two rival CEOs who absolutely despise each other keep ending up in bed despite the hatred. Their relationship is nothing but angry texts, blackmail, and raw hate sex with zero feelings involved.
ššæš¼š½š²š / š®š (warnings): smau/texting au, ceo!jk x ceo!oc, enemies with benefits/enemies who fuck, sexting, jealousy, intense competition, corporate sabotage, toxic rivalry. // no taglist
Many months have passed since your volunteering; you haven't noticed how fast time has flown by since the moment you became busy after winter break. Of course, it was not just you who volunteered to help! Many students came to lend their aid to Sakurabloom for this spring festival. It has been going on regardless of the challenges that came with it. Honestly, it felt nice to be this busy! You felt proud to do something so productive during your time here. On top of that, your photo taking has gotten better; you've been getting help from a young woman named Charlotte. She aspires to become a journalist.Ā
So now it's almost the end of April, you're locked up in the student council classroom.Ā Your objective was simple: submit these photos so it could enter whatever book someone was making to commemorate the festival, but your poor laptop was crying because of storageā¦ There were so many to choose from, and it made you stressed out. You were resting on your hand while the other clicked through many photos, editing or deleting them on your mouse. You were honestly getting tired and wanted to pick this up another day, but another day means the deadline comes closer. You have until the end of this week to submit them.Ā
It has to be perfect because once this yearbook gets published, everyone's going to read it and probably judge your sloppy photos.Ā
You were probably overthinking; nobody would careā¦right?
āAll I'm doing is finding photosā¦ So why is this difficult?ā Your inner thoughts start to wander, you chew your bottom lip, clicking back and forth to these images on your bright screen that's blinding you by now while your leg bounces frantically. You were so close to just selecting random photos and calling it a day. So, so close, yet so far.Ā
You groaned and slammed your head on the table, making a loud thud. The ache on your forehead bloomed, making you feel a soft throb. The thud alerted someone outside of the classroom; the door swung open, and they entered the classroom with papers in one hand. They scanned around the room until they found your unfortunate state and placed the papers to the side and walked over to you.Ā
Worry faded when they noticed you were okay, but considering your position.. you had to go home. It was getting late and severe weather was approaching.Ā
They stared at you for a good minute until an idea popped over their head. It was wrong to do, but knowing you and you knowing them, they're positive they wouldn't mind.Ā
They took out their phone and opened the camera app, then a loud shutter came from their phone which startled them. They immediately put their phone away so they could wake you up from your slumber, kneeling to meet your sitting (?) posture, they gently shook you to wake you.Ā
"Y/N? Hey, wake up..āĀ
His gentle voice pulls you out of your nap like you were hypnotized, your head slowly despite your strained eyes having a hard time getting a clear view of the person in front of you, but your feelings know it's him. Nobody could compare to that perfect voice of his.Ā
ā āZu..? ā You mumbled, your eyes blinking in an attempt to see him clearly. He carefully held your hands that were lazily resting on your lap.
āYouāve been working ever since we wrapped up todayās meeting; you should call it a day. Look, even the sky's getting dark. It's going to storm.ā Your eyes look over at the window, the clouds forming a smoky gray color as the sun slowly hides in them. Goodness, it was that long. You could've sworn it was sunny just a moment ago.
...Or not.Ā
You're not going to make it back to your dorm room, given that it's a bit of a walk, and your body is so fatigued that you can't even move. Kazuha must've read your mind because he gently squeezes your hands, trying to get your attention. āItās okay if you won't be able to make it back home, youā¦" He pauses, taking a breath. "...You can stay with me for the evening if you want. I can also assist with your assignment.ā His voice lowers.Ā
Hearing that suddenly made your fatigue wash away just a bit; the heavy feeling on your shoulders has been lifted. Thank the Archons.Ā
"Sure.ā You nodded. No hesitation.Ā
. . .Ā
You stood by Kazuha as he fished for his dorm keys; his hallway was different from yours, despite the buildings being the same down here. Maybe it's the unfamiliarity that's wavering on you before you get used to it. Your ears perked at the sound of his door unlocking, and you followed him inside.Ā
āMake yourself at home. I need to tidy my room before we go inside. I hope you don't mind waiting.āĀ
You nod, holding your bag close to you as a sense of comfort. You won't lie, you felt nervous entering someone other than your friend's home.Ā
āNot at all, please take your time..ā Your head follows him and he disappears into the hallway to his bedroom, leaving you alone in the living room. Speaking of which, the first thing that caught your eye was how warm-colored it was. His beige-colored couch was draped with a brown-red-colored decorative blanket. The doormat you were standing on was two cats nuzzling each other.Ā
"Cute.." You smiled to yourself, but you went back to the main focus and took off your shoes and placed them next to Kazuha's, but your eyes spotted another pair of shoes that didn't belong to him.
A roommate, perhaps?
You shrugged, and you made your way over to the dining table, hanging your slightly drenched bag at the back of your chair, and you sat down to open your phone. Might as well let some time pass.Ā
You hear the sound of a door open, pulling you away from your screen. Assuming it was Kazuha, you grabbed your bag and immediately stood up from your seat and turned around to greet him, but instead it was a guy you could've sworn you've seen before.Ā
Your mind goes back to that day at the museum.
It was the same person who was around Kazuha before watching them go their separate ways.Ā
He leaves his bedroom, inside was slightly dark accompanied by a large blue lighting by his desk alongside with papers and books scattered across, then he closes the door behind him. His, what you may have assumed, pajamas was on the comfortable side. A simple white sweatshirt and black sweatpants with slippers that matches the color to his shirt. His hair was neat, with hair clips moving away his navy blue bangs from his fair face. You caught a glimpse of his purple eyes that kind of reminds you of amethysts.Ā
He does a double take when he meets your gaze. Either the room was so quiet that you heard a small laugh from him, or you just had good hearing. You couldn't tell if he was pleased to see you, it's almost as if he was waiting to meet you.Ā
āWell, isn't this a surprise?ā He spoke, walking past you and into the kitchen, āTo think that I would meet the person who made an impact on Kazuhaās life.ā You heard a soft thud of what seemed to be a plastic cup on the counter behind you, you turned around to see him leaning against said counter, eyes burning into yours and his arms crossed against his chest. You stood there clutching your bag, feeling like you were being interrogated. Meeting new people so suddenly was one of the things you don't enjoy.Ā
This is very awkward for you.
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SYNOPSIS Chaos, Love, and Secrets. Ā At Tavyet University, you struggled to make decisions about your future, but it wasn't the only problem. At the same university, your childhood best friend, who vanished, has since been recognized as the president of the student council. He asks you for a big favor after his dishonesty almost cost him his reputation one day.
notes: I AM ALIVE. I DID NOT DIE. i made this chapter like.. weeks ago but withheld it because i did not want to start flooding tags with my chapters and well.. i got into minecraft which made me forget oopsie! i finished what ive been doing over there and (god forbid) NOTHINGG distracts me again āš¾ im so excited to write the next chapter though because ive been DYING to write this one .. whenever i can. its very early in the morning as im typing this and i want to sleep. also guess who kazuhas roommate haha (guess this animal ā ā¬špls get the reference)
This is true of the manga, but I love how the anime accentuates the absolute physical trust the apprentices have with Qifrey. Specifically with Agott, the way she is so ready when Qifrey says āhang on tight, I need my hands freeā to cling to him a mile into the sky, and then in the latest episode, how, as soon as she impacts Qifrey while flying to him, she makes no move to save herself, she just curls into him and trusts that he will keep them from falling.
And I think it works as a signal to the audience, to subtly go āhey, I know we donāt trust Qifrey right now, heās being shady, but we can always trust him to protect the physical wellbeing of his kids. Remember that.ā Idk man maybe Iām getting too attached to a teeny detail but aaaaaaghhhh thatās her dad.
context: while you're working long hours, jungkook spends most of his days glued to his pc, promising he'll āhelp later.ā when later never comes, you end things and send him packing... straight to jimin's apartment.
pairing: stay-at-home boyfriend!jk x breadwinner!reader
genre/au/warnings: smau, established relationship, breakup, lovers to exes to lovers, crack/humor, group chat chaos, bts members included, unserious plot, strong language. [MINI SERIES] // coming soon, no series taglist
a/n: a very, very late update yall. i was too busy crying over valko and getting excited over sp aventurine and the nod krai characters reveal that i forgot that my tumblr exists š
SYNOPSIS: you dont know why you have your cousinās best friendsā number saved on your phone, but all you know is that heās attractiveā exactly your type. not wanting to lose this chance to shoot your shot, you decided to become his chat bestie to get closer to him because why not? itās not everyday youād get to talk to someone as handsome as him! (careful though, your cousin doesnt want his friends to meet you so try your best to keep this secret from him!)
You were the town's good girl. He was the town's mistake. In a place where everyone already knows your name, the hardest thing to escape is the version of yourself theyāve decided to keep.
Jungkook has spent twenty years being told heāll become nothing. Youāve spent twenty years trying to become everything.
And now the chance to finally run away is right in front of you.
But the problem is . . . love doesnāt always make running away easy. Sometimes it only gives you something to lose.
ļ½„ ąą±æ tropes/au :: childhood friends to lovers, small town au, angst, slow burn, coming-of-age, family drama, trauma bonding
ļ½„ ąą±æ notes :: i've had this fic sitting in my notes for months, and honestly... i think i should've written it back when i was deeply attached to it. i don't think i can execute it the way i want to right now. this story touches on a lot of things i'm personally struggling with, and while i originally wanted to write it as a way to cope, i realized i'm really not in the right headspace for it at the moment. so, instead of forcing it, i'm gonna throw this into the void </3 maybe one day, when i'm doing a lot better mentally and life feels a little lighter, i'll come back and write this story the way it deserves to be written.
The thought arrives sharp and uninvited as you lie in bed, eyes fixed on the window, watching the way the winter dark settles over the streets like a second skin. Streetlights hum low and yellow, their glow barely reaching the edges of cracked sidewalks and sagging porches. Houses crouch close together, windows shuttered against the night, each one a small fortress guarding secrets everyone already knows.
People here suck the life out of everything.
They watch and they remember. They collect small failures like coins in a jar, rattling them whenever someone tries to walk a different path. No one escapes the version of themselves the town decided on years ago. Not the boy down the street who once stole a pack of gum and is still the thief at thirty. Not the girl whose family lost their farm and now carries the scent of ruin wherever she goes.
And certainly not you.
Just like your mother.
Ever since your father died, your mother has unraveled in small, unseen ways. She moves through rooms like someone searching for a door that no longer exists, her hands restless with objects she picks up and sets down again without purpose. Her laughter comes too sudden and too loud, cutting across quiet evenings like glass breaking. Some mornings she stares at her reflection too long, fingers tracing the lines that grief carved into her face, while other nights she disappears until the early hours, chasing warmth with men ā men who leave before morning, men who pretend they donāt know her name when they pass her on the street.
The town started calling her crazy in that soft, pitying tone they use when they want to sound kind. They don't call her a whore. At least not to her face. But just crazy. As if the word wraps their judgment in softer cloth.
She works the night shift at the townās only grocery store, stacking shelves, running the register, and cleaning up after closing in the harsh fluorescent light. Itās a plain, exhausting job ā the kind that keeps the lights on and food in the fridge but never fills the hollow spaces. She still shows up, still plays the part, smiling tiredly at the late customers who come in for beer and cigarettes. But you notice the small cracks ā the way her hands shake some mornings when she buttons her coat, the way her lipstick sometimes smears at the edges like a secret she canāt quite hide. She pretends the routine keeps her steady. You know it doesnāt.
Most nights she still ends up at Damonās bar or in someone elseās bed, chasing comfort that never lasts.
Before she leaves for the night she always pauses at your door. The hallway light catches the side of her face, softening the lines grief has left behind. She tells you to be safe, to keep the doors locked until she comes back, her voice low and careful, the words worn from too many repetitions.
You listen. You always listen, nodding once in the dim glow, fingers tight around the edge of your sleeve. She leans in then, pressing a kiss to your forehead, her lips cool and brief, the faint trace of her perfume lingering like borrowed warmth in the quiet air.
āBe safe, doll.ā She says.
She calls you that sometimes, the nickname your father gave you, and the word lands like a stone in still water.
You hate it.
For a moment her eyes hold yours, heavy with something she never quite names. Then the door clicks shut behind her, the sound sharp in the empty house, leaving only the faint echo and the weight of her absence pressing close against your chest.
She wants you perfect. Polished. The one good thing to come out of her mess. She arranges your hair and straightens your clothes like youāre something she can fix, something that might redeem the way the town looks at her.
They pity you for it. You hear it in the soft tones at the grocery store, in the way teachers used to smile at you a little too long, in the neighbors who drop off casseroles with sympathetic eyes.
That poor girl. Such a good kid stuck in that miserable house. A flower growing in cracked concrete, they seem to say without saying.
You hate that too.
You donāt feel like a flower. You donāt feel good or pure or worth saving.
Most days you feel worse than your mother.
The loneliness always sits in your bones like damp cold that never leaves. You miss people, you miss the way the house felt before grief hollowed it out, you miss the version of your mother who used to hum while cooking. You miss pieces of yourself you canāt name.
At night the emptiness presses close, whispering that maybe youāre the crazy one. The one who smiles politely at school and keeps her grades high while something inside cracks wider each year. The one who lies awake feeling untethered, floating in a life that doesnāt quite fit, always reaching for something just out of reach.
You sigh, the sound slipping out slow and tired into the dark of your room. The blankets feel too heavy tonight, tangled around your legs like they want to hold you down. You push them aside, feet meeting the cold floorboards with a quiet creak. The house is silent now, your mother long gone, her car lights swallowed by the street hours ago. You move to the window on unsteady legs, drawn there the way you always are when the emptiness grows teeth.
You press your forehead to the glass, letting the chill sink deeper. It travels through skin and skull, a sharp, clean cold that cuts through the fog in your mind. Outside, the winter night sits heavy over everything. The oak tree stands like it always has, thick trunk scarred by years of wind and time, its branches reaching out over the narrow street.
And there he is.
Jungkook.
Hidden behind the tree, right on time like he always is once your motherās taillights disappear. He leans against the rough bark, shoulders curved in that familiar way, jacket hanging loose on his frame.
Youāve known him since you were six.
Two kids in the corner of the schoolyard who saw the same cracks in each other without needing words. He was the boy with bruises no one asked about. You were the girl learning how to smile through the hole your father left behind. From that day on, you felt like the same person split into two bodies ā carrying the same weight, marked by the same town, surviving the same quiet disasters. He understands the parts of you that scare you most. And you understand his.
He looks up. The faint light catches his face, and he smiles. It's a smile that reaches his eyes even in the dark. A smile that says heās been waiting for your signal, for the moment you decide the night is yours.
Your boyfriend. The only person who ever made this place feel less like a cage.
He doesnāt call out, he knows he shouldn't, he's careful. He just waits, patient as winter itself, a cigarette held loosely between his fingers, the ember glowing once before fading.
Your chest tightens. You havenāt told him yet.
Your eyes drift to the university application letter sitting on your desk, slightly buried under a few books. The envelope is plain, the stamp neat and official.
A way out.
A future that doesnāt smell like this townās stale gossip and old regrets. The thought should bring relief. Instead it sits like ice in your stomach. You trace the edge of the paper with one finger, the sharp corner biting into your skin. You imagine sliding it into the mailbox tomorrow, sealing something you canāt take back.
Leaving means leaving him.
The realization hurts every time you let yourself think it. Leaving the boy who has stood beside you since you were both children, the one who knows how your silences mean different things, the one whose hands have always found yours in the dark without asking why. Your beloved boyfriend. The person who makes the long nights bearable. How do you walk away from that? from him? How do you pack your life into a suitcase and step onto a bus or train knowing heāll still be here, stuck under the same weight, carrying the same names the town branded on him?
And your mother.
The thought twists deeper.
Leaving her alone in this house with its echoing rooms and too many memories.
She calls you doll and kisses your forehead before slipping out into nights that break her a little more each time. Who would remind her to eat? Who would lock the doors behind her? Who would sit with her on the bad mornings when the grief sits too heavy on her shoulders? You would be gone, chasing something better, while she stays here unraveling in the same place that broke her.
Fucking hell.
You absolutely hate this fucking town.
The words echo in your head as you stare down at Jungkook. You hate what it does to people. How it decides your story before youāve lived it. What it has done to your mother ā turning her grief into gossip, her loneliness into something they whisper about over coffee. What it has done to Jungkook ā labeling him trouble before he ever had the chance to be anything else, making him carry his fatherās mistakes and his sisterās sacrifices on his back. And what it is doing to you. Slowly carving out pieces until you donāt recognize whatās left.
Jungkook shifts below, tilting his head as if he can hear your thoughts from the ground. His smile softens, patient, waiting. He flicks the cigarette away, the small spark dying in the dark. You lift your hand and press it flat against the glass, a silent signal. He nods once, the movement small but sure.
Jungkook pushes off the tree and starts walking toward the house. You pull back from the window, heart tight, and move to open the door for him.
Summary: You and Jungkook have been friends since diapers, and one day you decide to hook up for the fun of it, but then you end up pregnant with your best friend's baby. Chaos ensues.
Pairing: Jungkook x Reader
Genre: Parents AU, Established Relationship, Angst, Smut, Fluff, Crack
Word Count: N/A
Warnings: none
Author's Note: the anniversary fanfare continues with another audio commentary! I couldnāt yap about my characters without including everyoneās favorite family š„¹ this oneās a little longer than the others since thereās so much to talk about when it comes to these two, but I hope you enjoy all the insights into my process if you decide to give it a listen. love you guys, mwah!
-> Cradle Robbers Masterpost, Cradle Robbers x Two Masterpost
A brief audio commentary about my writing and decision making process for Cradle Robbers.
title: drakskar
pairings: general!jungkook, yandere!jk x duchess/cadet f!readerĀ
genre: fourth wing au, dark romance, arranged marriage au, smut, porn with plot, fanstasy auĀ
word count: 16,5 K
beta read: lovely @chaoticpuff17
summary: To escape an arranged political marriage to the infamous marked-one general, Jeon Jungkook, you enroll in the Riders Quadrant insteadāchoosing dragons and near-certain death over becoming his wife. But fate proves crueler than politics when you bond a dragon mated to his.
disclaimer: this is a Fourth Wing AU and therefore borrows lore, concepts, and certain dynamics from Rebecca Yarrosā original worldbuilding. This oneshot was inspired by chapter 22 and explores the idea of what if xaden never taught violet how to shield from the mating bond? all recognizable elements belong to their rightful owners.
š¦šš¬ššš«š„š¢š¬š
Cadets enrolled in the Riders Quadrant are hereby forbidden from entering into holy matrimony while under active training and service. Any marriage contract, ceremony, or binding recognised outside military authority shall be considered null and void for the duration of enrollment. Violation of this clause is treated as a breach of Quadrant discipline and subject to command review. A riderās allegiance belongs first to their dragon, then their wing. Marriage is not prohibited. It is deferred until survival is no longer uncertain.
āARTICLE SEVEN, SECTION TWO
THE DRAGON RIDERāS CODEX
āAre you out of your fucking mind?!ā
āIn my defence, your proposal was always deeply inconvenient.ā You fold your arms.Ā A dangerous pause, youāre waiting for him to snap at you, whichā¦he does.
āWe were supposed to be married by now!ā
āNo, right. My apologies.ā You gesture vaguely. Something dark flickers behind his eyes. He pushes off the table and begins walking toward you. His boots echo once. Twice. You hate that your body registers each step as he keeps walking.
āYou crossed the parapet,ā he says, like he still hasnāt fully accepted the reality of it. āWithout training.ā
āYes. I made it.ā
āBarely.ā
āStill counts.ā
He stops in front of you now, close enough that you have to tilt your head back slightly to maintain eye contact.
āYou disappeared before dawn,ā he says, voice lower now. āLeft your family in chaos, your escort unconscious and half the capital convinced youād been abducted.ā
You wince. In fairness, the unconscious escort had been a regrettable necessity. Unhinged move that youāll be apologising for laterā¦in life.
āTheyāll recover.ā
āThat is not the issue,ā you swear you can hear his teeth grind against each other.
āNo, I gatheredāā
A humourless breath escapes him. For a second, he just looks at you. Not with anger, exactly. Something more exhausting. Like you have personally shortened his lifespan by several years.
āThis,ā he says quietly, gesturing once toward you, toward Basgiath, toward all of your terrible life choices, āwas a deeply irritating move.ā
āYou thought enrolling here would solve your problem?ā Jungkook continues in hisā¦lecture? Preaching?
āIt actually did,ā you retort.
āNoāā his voice is maddeningly certain. āIt changed the location of your problem.ā
āThe Codex is clear.ā You fold your arms tighter. That earns you the faintest shift in his expression. Almost amusement. Almost.
āYes,ā Jungkook says dryly. āIāve finished this death college. I lived by the codexā¦sort of.ā
āThen you understand the complication.ā
āYou seem to be under the impression that a bureaucratic clause is what was keeping this arrangement intact.ā
Thatā¦ is not the answer you wanted. Your stomach tightens.
āYou cannot possibly meanāā
āIf you wish to be here,ā he cuts in, āthen be here.ā His tone is level. Controlled. Too controlled.
āI will not drag you from the Ridersā Quadrant because you wanted to prove a goddamn point.ā
That surprises you. Enough that your guard slips, just slightly. Jungkook notices. Of course, he notices and continues.
āYou crossed the parapet. You earned your place.ā Thereās something almost respectful in the words. Almost.
Then:
āBut letās be very clear.ā His gaze sharpens, pinning you in place more effectively than any physical restraint could.
āThis changes absolutely nothing.ā The words land like stones. Your jaw tightens and you tighten your fists.Ā
āYou donāt get to decide that alone anymoreāā
āNo,ā he agrees, infuriatingly calm. āBut you do not get to vanish into a death college and pretend I will simplyā¦ what? Move on?ā
Well. When he says it like that, it sounds almost ridiculous. Which is inconvenient.
āI entered the Ridersā Quadrant,ā you say, forcing steadiness into your voice, ābecause Iāā
āBecause you donāt want me? Is that it?ā The interruption lands like a blade thrown with terrifying precision. He steps closer, but you donāt move back. Your lips part, but for one humiliating second, absolutely nothing comes out.Ā
Because of all the responses youād prepared for this conversationāanger, threats, political manipulation, outrageāthat was not one of them. Not even remotely. Jungkook watches you carefully. Not like a general assessing a cadet. Like a man waiting for an answer he actually intends to remember.
āBecause Basgiath is the only place in this kingdom where my name belongs to me.āĀ
For the first time, something in his expression softens. Not much. Just enough to be dangerous.
āYou think I donāt understand that?ā That throws you. Because no, actuallyāyou hadnāt considered that possibility. Not really when he was eager to give you his name.
Jungkook studies your face for a long moment before speaking again.
āIf being a rider is what you want,ā he says, quieter now, āthen Iāll allow this.ā
āHow generous of you.ā You bristle instantly. His mouth twitches. But his next words erase any satisfaction you might have gotten from that.
āHowever,ā he says, āif this becomes too much for youāif you are overwhelmed, too injured, or one reckless decision away from becoming dragon foodāI will remove you myself.ā
āYou canāt do that.ā Your eyes widen at his proclamation.
āWatch me.ā
āThe Codexāā
āFuck the Codex.ā
The sheer bluntness of it knocks the air from your lungs. Jungkook leans in slightly, voice dropping low enough to feel less like conversation and more like a threat wrapped in velvet.
āIf you thrive here, then fine. Stay. Bond a dragon. Graduate. Become the most insufferable rider Basgiath has ever produced but you will be my wife.ā
āThe Codex says no cadet can marry while enrolled,ā you say, clinging perhaps a little too hard to the one technicality currently standing between you and total loss of autonomy.
As if a paragraph in military law is somehow stronger than the man currently looking at you, like bureaucracy is a mild inconvenience. Jungkookās expression doesnāt so much as flicker.
āYesāā he says.
āAnd eventually, you will no longer be a cadet.ā
ššš«š„š² ššššš¬š¬: the full fic is now available on ko-fi for fairy club subscribers - šš®š² š¦š š š¤šØ-šš¢
Don't be a silent reader, let's be friends chummers! Only love please! ā„
šššŗšŗš®šæš: after yet another fight with noah ā the man you're trying so hard to make things work with ā you find yourself at your best friend's door again. because jungkook's always been your safe place, your comfort... even when that comfort crosses lines it shouldn't.
š½š®š¶šæš¶š»š“: best friend!jungkook x fem!reader
šš®šæš»š¶š»š“š: slight toxic relationship mentions, noah is an oc. reader likes noah, but their fight isnāt the main focus. this story is about seeking comfort from jungkook after a rough day. // explicit smut ā lots of kissing, oral sex, masturbation, praising, protected sex, aftercare, heavy guilt, emotional angst.
š¹ššš¶āš š»š¼šš²š: itās so nice to finally finish one of the drafts that's been sitting in my notes app since last year ,,,, this is kinda supposed to be a "what if the roles were reversed?" version of kiss and forget .
The rain fell in steady, slanted sheets, soaking through every layer and blurring the world around you. You walked with your arms wrapped around yourself, shoes slapping against the wet pavement.
By the time you reached Jungkookās street, the sky had gone darker, the downpour thicker. His house sat quiet at the end of the block, porch light glowing soft gold through the curtain of rain. You climbed the three familiar steps and pressed the doorbell once, twice, three times ā the rhythm youād used since you were teenagers, back when his sister would yell at you both for letting cold air inside.
Water streamed down your face, plastered your hair to your neck, dripped from the hem of your jacket onto the welcome mat. You didnāt knock again. You just stood there, letting the rain do what it wanted, because moving felt pointless.
The door opened sooner than you expected.
Jungkook filled the frame, dark hair tousled like heād run a hand through it moments ago, wearing an old black t-shirt and grey sweatpants. His eyes widened the second he saw you ā concern pulling his brows together, mouth parting around a soft breath.
āHey,ā he said, voice low and careful.
You didnāt answer. You couldnāt. The ache in your chest rose too fast, pressing against your ribs until it hurt to breathe. Instead you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him, face turning into the warm space between his shoulder and neck. He smelled like laundry soap and coffee he probably drank before you rang the doorbell. Your wet hair left dark patches on his shirt instantly.
Jungkook didnāt flinch at all. His arms came around you without hesitation, one hand settling between your shoulder blades, the other lower on your back, holding you steady. The rain kept falling behind you, drumming on the porch roof, but inside the circle of his embrace the sound felt muffled, and distant. He was warm ā always so warm ā and the contrast made you shiver harder for a moment before his hold tightened, grounding you.
āShit, youāre freezing,ā he murmured against your temple, breath stirring your wet strands. He didnāt pull away. If anything, he shifted closer, letting you burrow in deeper, one palm rubbing slow circles over your soaked jacket like he could chase the chill out through sheer stubbornness. You felt his heartbeat, steady and quickening just a little.
You stayed like that for a long stretch of seconds, maybe minutes. The rain kept pouring, but Jungkook simply stood there in the open doorway, letting it splatter onto his bare feet and the floorboards behind him. His chin rested lightly on top of your head. Every so often his fingers flexed against your back, a silent check that you were still there, still breathing.
Eventually he spoke again, softer this time. āCome on. Letās get you inside before you catch a cold or something.ā He eased back just enough to look at your face, his gaze searching ā taking in the redness around your eyes, the way your lips pressed thin. His thumb brushed a droplet from your cheek, the touch feather-light. āNoah?ā
He knew. Somehow, he always knew.
You gave a small nod, throat too tight for words. The admission felt pathetic even in silence. Months of this back-and-forth with Noah, chasing moments of real connection only for them to slip through your fingers like water. And here you were, running straight to Jungkook every single time the cracks showed. He never made you explain more than you wanted. He just took the pieces you brought him and held them gently.
Jungkookās jaw tightened for a flicker, something unreadable passing behind his eyes, but it vanished before you could name it. He guided you inside with a hand at your elbow, kicking the door shut behind you. The sudden quiet of the house wrapped around you like a blanket ā the low hum of the heater, the faint scent of whatever heād cooked for dinner earlier.
āStay right here,ā he said, already moving toward the hallway closet. He returned with two thick towels, draping one over your shoulders and using the second to gently squeeze water from your hair. His movements were efficient but careful, the way they always were when he was worried. Droplets fell onto the towel in dark spots. You watched his fingers work, the small silver ring he wore on his right hand catching the light.
āYou didnāt have to come all the way here in this mess, You could've asked me to come over.ā he added, but there was no scolding in it ā only quiet fondness edged with that same concern. He crouched a little to meet your eyes again, towel still in hand. āBut Iām glad you came to me anyway.ā
You swallowed, the lump in your throat easing just enough. āDidnāt know what to do and.. where else to go.ā The words came out hoarse, barely above a whisper. Rainwater still trickled down your neck, but the towel helped, and so did his closeness. Jungkookās living room stretched behind him ā familiar posters and paintings on the walls, the couch where youād fallen asleep during too many late-night movies, the guitar in the corner he picked up when he needed to think.
He led you further in, peeling your soaked jacket off your shoulders and hanging it on the hook by the door. Water pooled beneath it immediately. āGo sit. Iāll grab you something dry.ā Before you could protest, he disappeared into his bedroom and came back with one of his oversized black hoodies and a pair of sweatpants that would be comically long on you. āBathroomās yours. Change before you actually freeze.ā
In the bathroom you stripped out of your wet clothes, the fabric clinging stubbornly to your skin. The mirror showed a girl with tired eyes and rain-flushed cheeks.
You look away.
Then you pulled on Jungkookās hoodie; it smelled like him, fabric soft and worn from a hundred washes. The sleeves swallowed your hands.
When you stepped back out, he had already wiped up the water trail on the floor and set a mug of something steaming on the coffee table ā probably the herbal tea he kept around because he knew you liked it on bad days.
You padded over on bare feet and sank onto the couch. Jungkook dropped down beside you, close enough that your knees brushed. He didnāt push for the full story right away. Instead he picked up the towel again and resumed drying the ends of your hair with slow, careful strokes, his focus narrowed like nothing else mattered.
āTell me what happened,ā he said eventually, voice low. āOr donāt. Whatever you need, angel.ā
You leaned into his side, letting your head rest against his shoulder. The fight replayed in fragments: Noahās frustrated sigh, the way heād said your name like it annoyed him, your own sharp retort that had only made things worse. The constant push and pull that left you wondering why you kept trying.
Jungkook listened without interrupting, his arm slipping around your shoulders once more. His fingers traced idle patterns on your sleeve ā small, soothing circles that matched the rhythm of the rain still tapping at the windows.
Minutes stretched. The tea cooled untouched. Outside, the storm showed no sign of letting up, but inside, the warmth of the house and Jungkookās steady presence slowly loosened the knot in your chest. You turned your face toward him, studying the line of his jaw, the way his lashes cast faint shadows when he looked down at you.
He met your gaze, his expression softening further. āYouāre gonna be okay,ā he murmured, the promise simple and sure. His hand found yours, fingers lacing together without asking. āI'm here for you.ā
You squeezed back, letting the silence settle around you both. The rain continued its steady song, but it felt less lonely now. Here, in the quiet glow of his living room, wrapped in his hoodie and his concern, the ache from earlier dulled to something more manageable.
You didnāt know how long you stayed like that ā heads close, breathing in sync ā but for the first time that day, the world outside the front door felt a little farther away.
It felt good.
Ten minutes later. You both still stayed silent.
Jungkook stayed close on the couch, his arm draped around your shoulders, thumb tracing slow arcs over the sleeve of his own hoodie. The fabric still carried his warmth, wrapping you in it like an extra layer of safety.
āRemember that time in tenth grade?ā he said, voice low and easy, the way it got when he was trying to pull you out of your head. āWhen you showed up at my door after that fight with your mom. You were soaked then too ā except it was from the sprinkler you accidentally set off trying to climb the fence and fell.ā A small smile tugged at his mouth. āYou had grass in your hair and looked so mad. I made you hot chocolate with extra marshmallows, the ones that were basically just sugar. We stayed up until three watching those terrible horror movies you hated but pretended to like just to prove a point.ā
You let out a quiet laugh, the sound surprising even you. It came out shaky at first, then a little lighter, loosening something tight in your chest. The memory flashed bright ā his old bedroom with the cracked ceiling light, the way heād thrown popcorn at the screen every time the killer appeared, both of you ending up laughing so hard his sister banged on the wall. For a moment the ache from Noah felt smaller, pushed back by the familiar comfort of Jungkookās stories.
He chuckled softly too, the vibration rumbling through his chest. āSee? There it is. There's the smile.ā His fingers brushed a stray strand of damp hair from your forehead, lingering just a second longer than necessary. The gesture was gentle, almost careful, like he was handling something fragile. You leaned into him more, letting the quiet stretch between you. No pressure to fill it. Just the two of you, the low glow of the lamp, and the rain keeping the rest of the world at bay.
You stayed wrapped in that moment, letting his presence chase away the sharper edges of the day. The hoodie sleeves bunched around your wrists as you curled closer, inhaling the faint scent of his detergent mixed with the warmth of his skin. Jungkook didnāt rush. He never did. Instead he rested his cheek against the top of your head, breath even and calm, like simply holding you was enough to fix whatever had cracked open inside you. The couch cushions dipped under your combined weight, and the heater hummed low in the background, pushing back the chill that still clung to your bones.
You could feel the tension in your shoulders easing, muscle by muscle, as his fingers worked their way through the damp strands at the nape of your neck. It was the kind of comfort that didnāt need grand gestures ā it was just this, just him, steady as always.
Then your phone rang.
The sound cut through the calm, muffled but insistent from the pocket of your soaked jacket hanging by the door. You stiffened against him. Jungkook glanced toward it, then back at you, his brows drawing together slightly.
āIāll get it,ā he said, already rising. He crossed the room in a few steps, fishing the phone out. Water dripped from the jacket as he pulled the device free, leaving small puddles on the floorboards. His expression shifted when he looked at the screen ā something guarded sliding into place, jaw tightening just a fraction.
āItās Noah.ā
Your stomach twisted sharply.
āNo.ā
The word left you fast and flat. You shook your head, pulling the hoodie sleeves over your hands like a shield. āI donāt want to talk to him. Not right now.ā
Jungkook didnāt hesitate. He silenced the call with a swipe of his thumb, then set the phone face-down on the coffee table with a quiet thud. The screen lit up once more with another incoming ring before fading to black for good. He wiped his damp fingers on his sweatpants and came back to the couch, settling beside you again, closer this time, his knee pressing firmly against yours.
āYou donāt have to,ā he murmured, picking up right where the comfort had left off. His hand found yours, warm fingers wrapping around your cooler ones, squeezing gently. āWhateverās going on with himā¦ you donāt owe him your night. Not when it leaves you like this.ā He paused, searching your face with those dark eyes that always saw too much. The concern lingered there, deep and genuine, but something else flickered underneath ā deeper, quieter, a shadow of protectiveness he tried to keep tucked away. āYou want to keep talking about it? Orā¦ do you need a distraction?ā
The word hung between you, loaded with everything it meant. Your mind spun immediately, pulling up memories you tried not to examine too closely.
Distraction.
It wasnāt new or sudden. It had started almost a year ago on another night much like this ā one where words had failed you completely and touches had said everything else instead. What began as a single moment of desperate closeness had quietly become a habit between you two.
Youād lose yourself in him when everything else felt too sharp, too overwhelming, and he never turned you away. Not even once.
Youād talked about it once, late at night with limbs still tangled and breathing uneven in the dark, your voice hesitant as you admitted it felt wrong sometimes, like you were using him to patch up the holes other people left behind. Heād just pulled you closer, voice rough against your skin, fingers tracing lazy patterns along your spine. āItās okay. Use me all you want, angel.ā
It sounded bad when he laid it out like that. Selfish. Messy. You hated that it had become your pattern, especially when you knew how easily it could blur lines you werenāt ready to cross. Especially when you caught the way he sometimes looked at you afterward ā like he was waiting for something more, even if he never pushed for it out loud. You hated that you kept coming back anyway, because with him it felt safe and electric all at once. Because he understood the cracks in you without needing explanations, and in those moments, nothing else mattered. Noahās fights left you raw and unsteady, but Jungkook always made the ground feel solid again, even if only temporarily.
It sounds wrong, but it was just how you two were. Complicated in ways neither of you named out loud.
You met Jungkookās gaze, fingers tightening around his until your knuckles brushed. The choice sat heavy in your chest, guilt and need twisting together. āDistraction,ā you whispered, the word barely audible.
Something flickered across his face ā relief mixed with that same quiet intensity he tried to hide behind his usual calm. He didnāt question it. He never did. Instead he leaned in slowly, forehead resting against yours for a long breath, giving you one final moment to change your mind. His hand came up to cup your jaw, thumb brushing your cheek with a tenderness that always undid you, tracing the faint dampness still lingering there from the rain.
āOkay,ā he said softly, the word warm against your lips before he closed the distance.
His kiss started slow, almost careful, lips moving against yours with a patience that made your pulse quicken. You shifted closer, knees pressing into the couch as you leaned into him, fingers curling into the front of his t-shirt, the fabric bunched under your grip.
Jungkookās other hand found your waist, drawing you in until you were half in his lap, the oversized hoodie riding up your thighs. He broke the kiss just long enough to murmur your name against your mouth, low and rough, before diving back in deeper.
The comforting moment from earlier melted seamlessly into this. His touches shifting from soothing to something hungrier. One hand slid beneath the hem of the hoodie, palm flat against the bare skin of your back, fingers spreading wide as if to claim every inch. You shivered ā not from cold this time, but from the contrast of his heat against your still-damp body. He noticed, of course, pulling back slightly to search your eyes, breath mingling with yours.
āYou sure?ā he asked, voice a quiet rumble, even as his thumb traced small circles just above the waistband of the borrowed sweatpants. Always checking, always giving you the out.
You nodded, leaning forward to kiss him again instead of answering with words. This time you took the lead a little more, nipping at his bottom lip until he exhaled sharply, grip tightening on your hips. The rain continued its steady patter outside, a constant backdrop that made the inside of his house feel even more intimate.
Jungkookās hands explored with familiar ease, one slipping higher under the hoodie to trace the curve of your ribs, the other anchoring you against him. You could feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat through his chest, faster now, matching the growing heat between you. Memories of the past year flickered through your mind in fragments ā the first time this had happened after a particularly brutal argument with your family, the way heād held you through the aftermath without expectation; the nights where youād shown up unannounced and heād simply opened the door, knowing what you needed without asking. It had felt right then, natural, like two puzzle pieces that fit even when the bigger picture remained unclear.
But now, with Noahās name still lingering on your silenced phone, the guilt twisted sharper. You knew this might be leading him on, feeding something deeper in him that you couldnāt quite return. Yet you couldnāt stop. Not when his mouth moved to your neck, pressing open kisses along the sensitive skin there, teeth grazing lightly in a way that pulled a soft sound from your throat.
He smiled against your collarbone, the curve of his lips warm and knowing. āStill with me?ā he murmured, hands sliding down to grip your thighs, encouraging you to settle more fully in his lap. The position brought you flush against him, and the evidence of his own want pressed insistently between you.
āStill with you.ā you managed, voice breathy as you rocked against him experimentally. His fingers dug in slightly, a low groan escaping him that vibrated through your shared space. The comforting memory from earlier felt distant now, replaced by this building urgency, yet the tenderness never fully left his touches. Even as things heated up, he remained attentive ā pausing to kiss your temple when you shivered, whispering quiet reassurances between kisses, making sure every move felt wanted.
You tugged at his t-shirt, impatient suddenly, and he helped you pull it over his head, revealing the familiar tattoos on his chest that youād traced countless times before. Your hands roamed over his skin, feeling the way his muscles shifted under your palms, the quick intake of breath when your nails grazed lower. Jungkook captured your mouth again, deeper this time, tongue sliding against yours in a rhythm that mirrored the growing need. One of his hands slipped fully beneath the sweatpants, cupping you intimately, fingers teasing with practiced knowledge of exactly what made your hips jerk forward.
The guilt flickered again ā this habit of turning to him, using these moments as an escape ā but it dissolved under the heat of his attention. He flipped you gently onto your back on the couch, hovering above you with dark eyes locked on yours. The hoodie had ridden up completely now, bunching around your chest, and he took his time peeling the rest of the clothes away, lips following the path of his hands. Every kiss, every touch carried that same mix of comfort and desire, reminding you why this felt so dangerously easy.
āTell me if itās too much,ā he whispered against your stomach, breath hot as he worked his way lower. But it wasnāt too much. It was exactly what you needed ā the distraction pulling you under, washing away the echoes of Noahās voice and the rain outside. Jungkook knew your body like his own, responding to every sigh and shift with perfect timing, drawing out the pleasure until your fingers tangled in his hair and your back arched off the cushions.
His mouth brushed feather-light at first, a kiss to the sensitive skin of your inner thigh that made your breath catch. Then lower, softer, his lips pressing warm against your center. The first slow drag of his tongue pulled a quiet sound from you. He hummed in response, the vibration traveling through you in a gentle wave.
Jungkook took his time, every movement unhurried and attentive. His tongue traced slow, careful paths, exploring with a softness that matched the comfort from earlier. No rush, no intensity that overwhelmed you ā it was just steady, warm pressure that built in quiet layers. He lingered where you responded most, learning the small shifts in your breathing, the way your hips twitched when he found the right angle. One hand stayed on your thigh, holding you open with gentle strength, thumb stroking soothing patterns against your skin while the other rested on your stomach, feeling the flutter of your breaths.
āAngel, you taste divine.ā he murmured against you, voice low and rough with want, the words vibrating softly. āFucking divine.ā The praise settled warm in your chest, easing the last remnants of tension from the day. He returned to his task with renewed focus, tongue moving in languid strokes that drew out every sensation. The rain outside seemed to fade further, replaced by the quiet sounds of his mouth and your uneven breathing filling the living room.
Your back arched slightly as the pleasure deepened, not in sharp bursts but in a slow, rolling warmth that spread through your limbs.
Your fingers reached down and tightened in his hair. Jungkook responded with a soft sound of his own, pressing closer, shoulders flexing under your touch. He kept the rhythm steady, long, slow licks along your pussy. Then he followed by pulling his hand lower, fingers gently circling your clit with slow, feather-light touches. Every few moments he paused just enough to kiss your inner thigh or hip, lips warm and damp, whispering quiet praises against your skin.
āRelax for me,ā he breathed, tongue flicking softly over your clit again. āLet me take care of you.ā The words sank into you, warm and reassuring. His mouth returned, hotter now, tongue moving with patient dedication over your pussy, lapping and circling your swollen clit in unhurried strokes. Pleasure grew in slow, rolling waves, pulling soft gasps from your throat. Your free hand gripped the couch cushion as the feeling built without ever becoming too much.
He stayed completely focused on you, reading every small reaction ā the subtle roll of your hips, the way your thighs trembled against his shoulders.
The heat and softness of his mouth working your pussy, tongue stroking and teasing your clit with careful persistence. The distraction worked its magic, Noahās voice dissolving completely under the steady attention, leaving only Jungkook and the safety of his mouth on you.
āYouāre doing so well,ā he praised, voice muffled and low between slow licks. āJust like thatā¦ feel how wet you are for me.ā He sucked gently on your clit, then soothed it with the flat of his tongue. āTouch yourself, ___. Rub your clit for me while I eat you.ā
Your hand moved almost on its own, sliding down to join him. Fingers rubbed slow circles over your clit as his tongue dipped lower, licking along your entrance and back up again, tasting you thoroughly. The combined sensation made your breath shake. Jungkook groaned softly in approval, the sound vibrating against your pussy.
āThatās it,ā he murmured, eyes flicking up to watch you. āKeep rubbing just like that. You look so pretty like this.ā His tongue kept working in steady, devoted strokes, licking and circling in time with your fingers. āYouāre getting so close, arenāt you?ā
Your moans grew quieter and breathier. The build was gradual, almost dreamlike, heat coiling tighter and tighter in your belly until it finally crested in a slow, shuddering release.
Your back arched, fingers still gripping his hair and your other hand against your own clit as the waves washed through you, pussy pulsing under his tongue. Jungkook stayed with you through every tremor, licking you, drawing it out until the last aftershocks faded and your thighs stopped trembling.
Only then did he ease back, pressing one final soft kiss to your clit before lifting his head. His lips were flushed and glossy, eyes dark and tender as they met yours. Jungkook didnāt wipe his mouth. Instead he ran his tongue slowly over his lower lip, savoring the taste of you with a quiet hum that sent another faint shiver through your body. The sight of him like that ā lips shining with evidence of what heād just done, no shame, no rush to clean it away ā made something twist low in your stomach. He looked like he loved it. Like he could stay between your thighs for hours if you let him.
He crawled up your body slowly, the couch dipping under his weight as he settled over you. One hand braced beside your head, the other brushing damp strands of hair from your face. His eyes held yours for a long second before he leaned down and kissed you. Soft. So soft it almost made you moan. The taste of yourself lingered on his tongue, faint and intimate, mixing with the familiar warmth of him. You sighed into the kiss, fingers threading back into his hair, pulling him closer.
There was nothing hurried in it. Just slow presses of lips, gentle tilts of heads, breaths shared in the small spaces between. Jungkook kissed you like he had all the time in the world. His tongue brushed yours lazily, it was not demanding, but just tasting and wanting to explore you more. Every so often he would pull back just enough to nip at your bottom lip or press a softer kiss to the corner of your mouth, then return like he couldnāt stay away long. Skin brushed skin in small, warm touches ā his bare chest pressed against your breasts, your nipples brushing against his chest with every slow shift of his body, his hips settling comfortably between your spread thighs.
You melted under the gentle rhythm of it, letting the aftershocks of your orgasm fade into this new kind of warmth. His hand cupped your jaw, thumb stroking your cheek in time with the slow glide of his mouth. A quiet sound slipped from him, almost a sigh, and you felt it vibrate a little against your lips. The kiss deepened just a fraction, still soft, still careful. Minutes passed just like that ā lazy, lingering kisses that made your head feel light and your body heavy with contentment. The quiet house settled around you, a constant backdrop to the wet sounds of mouths moving together and the soft, occasional moans slipping from your lips.
Eventually Jungkook pulled back, forehead resting against yours, breathing a little heavier. His lips were even glossier now, slightly swollen. He licked them again, eyes half-lidded as he looked at you. A small, almost shy smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
āLet me get a condom.ā he murmured.
He pressed one last soft kiss to your lips before pushing himself up. The sudden absence of his warmth made the air feel cooler against your skin. You watched him walk toward his bedroom, bare feet quiet on the floor, the muscles in his back shifting with each step. The sight of him ā still hard, moving with that easy confidence ā stirred something complicated in your chest.
As soon as he disappeared into the room, your thoughts rushed in.
This wasnāt right. Not at all.
You like Noah. Or at least you think you do.
The fights, the misunderstandings, the way he could make you laugh on the good daysā¦ that was supposed to mean something. Yet here you were, legs still trembling from Jungkookās mouth, lips tingling from his kisses, waiting for him to come back so you could fuck him like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Fuck.
Guilt twisted sharp and sudden. You were using him again. Using your best friend as a distraction because facing your own mess with Noah felt too heavy. Jungkook deserved better than this ā better than being the safe place you ran to when someone else hurt you. Better than being wanted only when you were falling apart.
But God, it felt good with him.
It felt so safe in a way Noah had never managed. Jungkook never made you explain yourself. He never got frustrated when your moods shifted or when words failed you. He justā¦ took you as you were. And that made the guilt worse. Because you knew, deep down, that the way he looked at you sometimes wasnāt just friendly.
The way he held you, the way he licked his lips like he could never get enough of your taste ā it all pointed to something more. Something you werenāt ready to name or return. Not when your head was still tangled up with Noah and the stupid hope that maybe one day the fights would stop and things would finally make sense with him.
You heard Jungkook rummaging in the bedroom drawer. The sound pulled you back for a moment, but the thoughts kept spinning. What if you were ruining him? What if every time you chose this distraction, you were making it harder for him to move on, to find someone who could actually love him the way he deserved? You hated that part of yourself ā the part that kept coming back because it was easy, because he made you feel wanted without conditions.
You like someone else. You are supposed to be figuring that out. Instead you're spread out on Jungkookās couch, naked, pussy still wet from his tongue, waiting for him to fuck you so you could forget for a little while longer.
The self-disgust sat heavy in your throat. Yet you didnāt move. You didnāt call out to stop him. Because underneath all the guilt was the truth you didnāt want to face.
The way he knew exactly how to touch you, how to kiss you, how to make the world shrink down until only the two of you existed. It was addictive. Dangerous.
Then you hear footsteps approaching.
Jungkook came back, condom packet in hand, tearing it open as he walked. His eyes found yours immediately, softening when he saw you still lying there, waiting. He rolled it on with practiced movements, then climbed back onto the couch, settling between your legs again.
He leaned down, kissing you once more, like he could sense the storm in your head and wanted to quiet it. āYou okay?ā he whispered against your mouth.
You nodded, fingers tracing the line of his jaw. The thoughts were still there, loud and messy, but the warmth of his body against yours started to push them back. He positioned himself at your entrance, the blunt head of his cock nudging against your slick folds.
āFuck.ā you both groan.
Then he pushed in ā slowly, carefully, inch by inch.
The stretch pulled you sharply out of your head. Your eyes fluttered, lips parting on a quiet gasp as he filled you completely. The feeling was overwhelming in the best way possible, grounding you instantly in the present. There were no more spiraling thoughts. Just the thick, solid heat of him inside you, the way your walls clenched around him, the soft groan he let out against your neck.
Jungkook stilled once he was fully seated, forehead pressed to yours, breathing shaky. āfuck me,ā he murmured, voice strained with the effort of holding still. One hand stroked your side soothingly, waiting for you to adjust, so careful even now.
You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer, and for a moment everything else ā the guilt, Noah, the complicated mess of your feelings ā faded into the background.
There was only this. Only him. Only Jungkook.
He started moving then, deep thrusts that dragged against every sensitive spot inside you. Each roll of his hips was deliberate, controlled, like he wanted to feel all of you. His chest brushed your breasts with every motion, nipples grazing in a way that sent little jolts straight to your core. One of his hands slid under your ass, tilting your hips up slightly to change the angle, and the new depth pulled a broken moan from your throat.
āThatās it, angel.ā he praised softly, lips brushing your ear. āLet me hear you. You sound so pretty when Iām inside you.ā
The praise made heat flood your face and your pussy clench around him. He groaned at the feeling, pace picking up just a fraction while still staying deep and steady. The couch creaked quietly beneath you with every thrust, the sound mixing with the wet slide of his cock moving in and out of your soaked pussy. You met his movements, rolling your hips up to take him deeper, fingers digging into his shoulders.
Jungkook kissed you again, messy and breathless this time, tongues sliding together as he fucked you. His free hand roamed your body ā cupping your breast, pinching your nipple gently, then sliding down to where you were joined, thumb finding your clit and rubbing firm circles. The added stimulation made your back arch, pushing your chest harder against his.
āJungkookā¦ā you gasped against his mouth.
āI know,ā he whispered. āIāve got you. I'm here. Just feel me.ā
He kept the rhythm consistent, hips snapping forward with controlled power. Every thrust hit that perfect spot inside you, sending waves of pleasure radiating outward. His thumb never stopped its steady circling on your clit, slick with your arousal. Sweat started to bead on his skin, making your bodies slide together even more easily. The room filled with the sounds of skin meeting skin, your shared breathing, and the occasional soft curse or moan.
Right now, all that mattered was the way he filled you, the way he looked at you like you were the only thing in his world, the way his body moved against yours like it was made for this.
He shifted slightly, hooking one of your legs higher over his arm, opening you up more. The new angle made him hit even deeper, and your moan came out louder, unrestrained. Jungkookās eyes darkened further at the sound.
āYeah? Right there?ā he asked, voice husky. He angled his hips to hit the same spot again and again, thumb pressing firmer on your clit. āCome on, angel. I want to feel you come around my cock.ā
The words sent a fresh rush of heat through you. Your pussy clenched tightly around him, drawing a low groan from deep in his chest. He kept fucking you steadily, deep and relentless, never losing the rhythm. Sweat slicked both your bodies now, the couch cushions damp beneath you. Your fingers reached and dug into his back, nails leaving faint marks as the pleasure coiled tighter and tighter in your belly.
Jungkook leaned down, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking gently while his hips kept moving. The dual sensation ā his mouth on your breasts and his cock stretching you open ā pushed you closer to the edge. You could feel your orgasm building.
āDonāt hold back,ā he murmured against your skin, switching to the other nipple, tongue flicking over the sensitive peak. āCome for me. Let go, angel.ā
His thumb sped up on your clit, small tight circles that matched the deep thrusts of his cock. Your thighs started trembling around him, breath coming in short gasps. The coil inside you wound impossibly tight, then finally snapped.
Pleasure tore through you in a slow, powerful rush, dragging long shudders from your core. Your pussy clenched rhythmically around his cock, pulsing hard as pleasure flooded every nerve. You cried out his name, back arching sharply off the couch, fingers gripping his shoulders like he was the only solid thing in the world. Jungkook groaned loudly, hips stuttering for a moment as he felt you come apart around him, but he kept moving, fucking you through it with deep, steady strokes, drawing out every last tremor.
āSo goodā¦ fuck, youāre squeezing me so tight,ā he praised breathlessly, voice breaking. āThatās my girl.ā
He rode out your orgasm, never stopping, until your body started to relax beneath him. Only then did his pace change ā faster, a little rougher, chasing his own release. His forehead pressed against yours again, eyes locked on yours, breathing ragged.
A few more deep thrusts and Jungkook buried himself to the hilt, hips pressing flush against yours as he came hard. His cock pulsed inside you, filling the condom with hot spurts while he groaned your name against your neck, body trembling with the force of it. You held him through it, stroking his back, feeling every twitch and shudder as he emptied himself.
For a long moment afterward, Jungkook stayed buried deep inside you, breathing hard against your shoulder, arms wrapped tightly around your body. You could feel his heartbeat racing against your chest, slowly starting to calm. The afterglow settled over both of you, wrapping you both in quiet intimacy.
He eventually lifted his head, pressing soft kisses to your jaw, your cheek, your lips. His eyes were soft, full of something deeper than just satisfaction. You kissed him back, slow and gentle, letting the moment stretch.
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Everything settled around you quietly in the aftermath, the air thick with the scent of sweat and sex.
He finally lifted his head, eyes soft and searching as they met yours. His thumb brushed gently over your cheek, wiping away a stray bead of sweat.
āYou okay?ā he asked, voice low and a little hoarse. āDid I go too hard at the end?ā
You shook your head, offering a small, tired smile. āIt was good, I am okay.ā
Jungkookās expression softened further. He pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead, then your lips, slow and sweet. āGood,ā he murmured. āStay right here. Iāll be back in a second.ā
After disposing of the condom in the bathroom, he returned with a warm, damp cloth and gently cleaned between your thighs with careful strokes. The tenderness of it made your chest tighten. He was always like this afterward ā attentive, quiet, careful, never rushing you out of the moment.
Once he was done, he tossed the cloth aside and pulled you into his arms again, skin still warm and slightly sticky against yours.
āWant to take a shower together?ā he asked softly, fingers tracing lazy patterns along your spine. āOr I can make you something to eat first. You hungry?ā
You hesitated for a second, then nodded. āShower sounds nice.ā
He helped you up from the couch, your legs still a little shaky, and led you to the bathroom. The water was warm when he turned it on, steam quickly filling the small space. You both stepped under the spray, and Jungkook immediately pulled you close again, back to his chest, arms looped around your waist. The water cascaded over both of you, washing away the evidence of what youād just done.
He reached for the soap, lathering it between his hands before running them slowly over your body ā shoulders, arms, breasts, stomach. His touch stayed gentle. You leaned back into him, letting the hot water soothe your muscles.
āYouāve been quiet,ā he said after a while, voice barely louder than the running water. āMore than usual. Talk to me. Whatās going on in that head of yours?ā
You swallowed hard, the guilt that had been pushed aside during sex now rushing back in full force. Jungkookās hands paused on your hips, patient as always, waiting for you to find the words.
āI donāt know,ā you started, voice small. āToday with Noahā¦ it just messed me up again. The same stupid cycle. And then I come here andā¦ this happens.ā You gestured vaguely between the two of you. āIt feels good, yes. You always make it feel good. But I keep thinking maybe we shouldnāt keep doing this.ā
Jungkookās arms tightened slightly around you, but his voice stayed calm. āBecause of Noah?ā
You nodded, eyes stinging a little. āYeah. I stillā¦ I still like him. Or I want to make it work with him. We have these moments where it feels like we could be something real, you know? And then I ruin it by running to you every time things get hard. And I know itās not fair to you.ā
He was quiet for a long moment, just holding you under the spray, hands resuming their slow, soapy path over your skin. āI told you before,ā he said eventually, pressing a kiss to your wet shoulder. āIām okay with it. If this is what you need, Iām here. I donāt regret any of it.ā
āBut I do,ā you whispered. The words slipped out before you could stop them. āWell.. not because it doesnāt feel right with you. It does. And thatās the problem. It feels too right sometimes. And that scares me because Iām supposed to be figuring things out with someone else. I canāt keep using you like this, Jungkook. You deserve someone who chooses you first. Not someone who only shows up when they need a distraction.ā
The shower water continued to fall, steam swirling around you both. Jungkook turned you gently in his arms so you were facing him. His hair was wet and pushed back, water droplets clinging to his lashes. He looked at you with that same steady gaze that always made your resolve waver.
āI know you still want to try with Noah,ā he said quietly. āIām not asking you to stop. I justā¦ I care about you. A lot. And if this helps you even a little, then itās worth it to me.ā He cupped your face, thumbs brushing water from your cheeks. āBut if you want us to stop, we can. Just say the word.ā
You leaned into his touch, eyes closing for a moment. Part of you wanted to take it back immediately, to tell him you didnāt mean it and pull him close again. But the other part ā the louder one right now ā knew you couldnāt keep doing this forever. It was getting messier. It was getting real.
āI think we should stop,ā you said finally, the words heavy on your tongue. āAt least for a while... I need to actually try to fix things with Noah instead of running away every time it gets difficult. And youā¦ you need to stop letting me do this to you.ā
Jungkookās jaw tightened, but he nodded slowly. āIf thatās what you want.ā His voice was soft, but you caught the flicker of something painful in his eyes before he hid it. He pulled you into a tight hug under the water, chin resting on top of your head. āIāll always be here for you, angel. As your best friend. That part doesnāt change.ā
You hugged him back, your throat suddenly feels tight. The water kept falling, washing over your joined bodies, but it couldnāt rinse away the complicated knot of emotions in your chest. Being close to him like this felt so safe. Stopping would hurt. But continuing would hurt him more in the long run.
You were sure of it.
After the shower, he gave you one of his clean t-shirts to wear. You both moved to the kitchen in the comfortable silence. Jungkook made you a simple sandwich while you sat on the counter, legs swinging, watching him. The domesticity felt.. good. But it also made you feel more guilty.
āYou donāt have to explain yourself to me,ā he said as he slid the plate toward you. āI get it. Noahās the one you want to make it work with. Iāve always known that.ā
You took a bite, chewing slowly. āIt doesnāt mean I donāt care about you,ā you said quietly. āBecause I do. More than I probably should.ā
Jungkook leaned against the counter across from you, arms crossed over his bare chest. A small, sad smile touched his lips. āI know. Thatās why this is kind of complicated.ā
The conversation drifted after that ā lighter topics, old memories, anything to fill the space between you. But the decision hung there. You would try to make things right with Noah. You would stop using Jungkook as your emotional and physical escape. And he would let you, because that was the kind of person he was.
Later, when you were curled up on the couch again in his t-shirt, head on his chest, you wondered how long you could actually stick to that promise.
Because even now, safe in his arms with the steady beat of his heart under your ear, part of you already missed what you were trying to end.
Ā· Ā· ā¢ ā¢ ā¢ ā¤ ā¢ ā¢ ā¢ Ā· Ā·
You had drifted off on his chest, body soft and trusting against his, breathing slow and even. Jungkook hadnāt moved. He couldnāt bring himself to. One arm stayed wrapped around your back, hand resting lightly between your shoulder blades, feeling every rise and fall of your breath through the thin fabric of his t-shirt you wore. The other hand rested on your thigh where it had draped over his lap, thumb tracing absent, soothing circles that had long since lost their purpose except to keep himself grounded.
He stared at the ceiling for a long time, the faint glow from the living room lamp casting soft shadows across the room. The weight of you on top of him was both comfort and torture. You fit against him so perfectly it made his chest ache in a way he had grown used to hiding.
Jungkook had been in love with you for years.
It wasnāt the kind of love that announced itself loudly or demanded anything in return. It had grown slowly, quietly, in the spaces between late-night talks and shared silences, in the way you always came to him first when the world felt too overwhelming.
He remembered the exact moment it had shifted for him ā years ago, when you showed up at his door after a bad fight with your family, eyes red and voice cracking. He had held you then, just like now, and something inside him had cracked open and never quite closed again. You werenāt just his best friend. You were the person he measured everyone else against. The one who made ordinary days feel brighter simply by existing in them.
And yet here you were. Asleep on his chest after he had been inside you, after he had tasted you and held you and tried to give you everything you needed to feel better. Only for you to wake up tomorrow and choose someone else again.
His jaw tightened. Noah. That idiot who couldnāt see how lucky he was to even have your attention. Jungkook had watched the cycle for months ā the fights, the make-ups, the way you tried to excuse his actions, only to come running back here when it all fell apart. He hated it. Not because he thought he was better than Noah, (though some ugly part of him whispered that he was). He hated it because it hurt you. And every time it hurt you, it hurt him twice as much.
He tilted his head slightly, looking down at your face. Your lashes cast faint shadows on your cheeks, lips slightly parted in sleep. You looked so peaceful like this, all the tension from earlier smoothed away. Jungkookās heart clenched painfully. He loved the way you looked when you were asleep on him. Like nothing in the world could touch you while he was holding you. Like you were his. Like you felt safe with him and him only.
He wanted to be that for you every single night. Not just on the nights when someone else let you down.
His mind drifted through memories unbidden. The time you both stayed up until sunrise talking about nothing and everything, your head in his lap while he played with your hair. The way you had laughed at his terrible attempts at cooking and then helped him salvage dinner anyway. The quiet nights where you would fall asleep during movies and he would carry you to his bed, tucking you in without ever crossing the line until you started crossing it first. He had tried so hard to keep his feelings locked away. When you had first kissed him almost a year ago, desperate and hurting, he had told himself it was just comfort. That he could handle being whatever you needed. But every time you came back, every time you chose him in those moments, it carved the love deeper into his bones until it became impossible to ignore.
He was tired of pretending it didnāt destroy him a little more each time.
Jungkook exhaled slowly, careful not to wake you. His hand continued its gentle stroking along your back. You shifted slightly in your sleep, pressing closer to him with a tiny sigh, and the simple movement made his throat tighten. How could you not see it? How could you not feel how completely he belonged to you? He would give up anything if it meant you looked at him the way he looked at you. Not as a distraction. Not as a safe place to fall when things got hard. But as the person you chose first. The person you fought for.
Instead you kept choosing Noah. The guy who argued with you over small things. The guy who made you doubt yourself. Jungkook had seen the way your face fell after every fight, the way you carried the pain of it until you ended up here. He wanted to tell you that you deserved someone who made the good days outnumber the bad ones. Someone who saw how incredible you were and fought to keep you happy.
Someone like him.
But he never said it. Because you had made your choice clear tonight. You wanted to try with Noah. You wanted to stop this thing between you two. And as much as it killed him, he would respect it. He would swallow the words he had wanted to say for years ā I love you. Iāve always loved you. Let me be the one. ā and go back to being the best friend who was always there when you needed him.
Even if it meant watching you walk toward someone who didnāt deserve you.
Jungkook closed his eyes for a moment, letting the steady rhythm of your breathing comfort him. He loved the way you smelled after showers, like his soap and something uniquely you. He loved how your body fit perfectly against his, how your hand would unconsciously fist his shirt in your sleep. He loved your laugh, your stubbornness, the way your eyes lit up when you talked about things you were passionate about. He loved you in all the quiet ways that never got spoken out loud.
And because he loved you, he would let you go try to make it work with Noah. He would smile and support you and be there to pick up the pieces if it fell apart again. Even if every time it did, it broke something else inside him.
Minutes turned into what felt like hours.
Jungkook memorized every detail ā the way your hair fell across your face, the faint flutter of your lashes in dreams, the warmth of your breath against his collarbone. He wanted to remember this. Just in case things really did change after tonight. Just in case this was one of the last times he got to hold you like this.
Eventually, when he was sure you were deeply asleep, he spoke. The words came out barely above a whisper, rough with everything he had been holding back.
āSilly girl,ā he murmured, lips brushing the top of your head. āYouāre choosing that idiot when I would burn the whole world down just to keep you smiling. He doesnāt see you. Not the way I do. Not the way you deserve to be seen.ā
He swallowed hard, voice cracking just slightly.
āI love you, ___. Iāve loved you for so fucking long. And Iāll keep loving you even if you never choose me.ā
The confession hung in the quiet air, heard by no one but him. You didnāt stir. Jungkook pressed another soft kiss to your hair, tightening his hold around you just a fraction. He would carry this moment with him. The sound of your breathing. Your warmth. The love that filled every corner of his chest even as he prepared himself to let you walk away.
But for now, he just held you. And tried to pretend tomorrow wouldnāt hurt as much as he knew it would.
ā± āāāā {.ā āÆ ā .} āāāā ā°
š¹ššš¶āš š»š¼šš²š :: fun fact; this oneshot was originally titled distraction. but because i took approximately a million years to actually write it, and by the time i was ready to finish it, hate that i made you love me had already come out and i was just like... oh. yeah. perfect. thank you ms. ariana šāāļø
i also wrote an alternate ending for this oneshot! in the alt version, jungkook is a lot more.. angrier, and refuses to let go of their whole fwb situation, so... yeah, angry sex basically.
i've uploaded it on my patreon under the ARCHIVE tier! if you'd like to read it, you can find it here: alternate ending ā 5.6k words
oh and.. if you're subscribing through ios, i'd recommend using patreon's website instead of the app because apple charges extra through in-app purchases.
wait for me - qifrey x brimhat!reader (manga spoilers warning)
There is very little in this life that Qifrey can really find himself grateful for despite it all. He isn't afforded that luxury, cursed with the ink of death and seed threatening to lignify him at any feeling of hope, Qifrey isn't afforded the luxury of getting to love like a normal person when there's something threatening to feed off of any hope he'll ever feel. Love isn't something he's allowed.
Even if that person is now a brimhat that finds him again and again.
"Qifrey, dearest, you really ought to rest sometime. Just... shut your eye and let me stab at it once, yeah?" You throw a spell to counter his, and he hisses.
He dodges a spell cast by you, sending a full wave of water at you, turning sharply when he notices you've gone missing.
"Learn something new next time, ugh."
Something is jammed into his right eye, and his mouth is muffled before he can scream out in pain to alert everyone else. It burns, and before he can counter anything, he passes out from how agonizing the pain is to him. You've never hurt him, despite it all, but it's a pain he hates. It feels like he's turning into a tree again. It's tearing him apart. The girls. He hopes the girls are safe. You'd caught him all alone.
They should be safe.
After all, you've only ever targeted him.
And, if he wakes up to a recovered eye and the allowance to feel hope once again, he won't remember that you were the one to cure him anyway.
Only the hollowness in his soul will mourn your absence.
and that hollowness will find you again even if he doesn't remember.
Sneak peak beginning of that witch hat fic Iāve been cooking.
Youāve loved animals since you were young, from unicorns to pegasusā, griffins to the odd phoenix, even a dragon or two. Youāve rescued more creatures than people, not for a lack of trying of course. Itās just sometimes the inability to understand another being is all thatās needed to form a stronger bond. Maybe to be understood is to not understand at all.
āAs a witch it will be your civil duty to help the unknowing, four legged or not.ā Your master once told you.
āThe four legged ones donāt hold impossibly high exceptions against me.ā You retorted, caressing your newly rescued friend, a quadryphon. You presume it mustāve fallen from its nest, its mother too distracted by its other little ones to notice a missing family member. At least you hope, the other possibility being it was abandoned. You hope thatās not the case.
It seemed to chirp in agreement, nuzzling its beak into the finger that gently smoothed its feathers down. You still havenāt decided a name for him, you donāt want to burden it with something, stupid or too on the nose, those are the most annoying pet names you think. Maybe something regal, or cutesy? But not too cutesy it takes away the mystic and beauty of such a majestic creature.
āAnd when all your animal friends leave you? What then child?ā They smiled as bent down to fix where the hem of your cap laid on your head. It wasnāt condescending, your master was not the type to make a mockery of their students, no it was concern. They simply didnāt wish to see their sweet apprentice lonely in their future, talking to furballs instead of fellow humans.
āI still have Olly and Qi. I know that.ā You hummed with certainty in its tunes.
Do you remember when was the last time you had hands? For sure not, it's been years since the last time you saw anything other then fluffy paws to groom and sharp claws. You still remember tho, that one cursed spiral eye, the one who started your new journey.
You do remember the little kid with green hair, jumping in glowing tiles and following a tiny shimmering butterfly inside a dark alley. Everything after that was blurry.
"Miss paws, where are you!" The childish and playful voice woke you from your own little head, soon the same green hair from your memories arrived with a smile, quick in her steps to scoop the black cat in her arms. "There is a witch here! A true witch! With true magic! You NEED to see him!"
She talked while the you got comfortable in her embrace.
'Oh dear, is it who I think it is?' you thought for yourself.
Eventually Coco left the tiny atelier, arriving where the witch had hidden.
"Look, he is inside there. He's fixing the costumer's chariot that one of the boys broke.. but isn't it so cool? There is an actual witch here!" The girl was so happy that she squished the poor cat in her arms, hugging her harder while giggling to herself.
"meoow!" You protested for your poor bones being crushed by Coco, she quickly released you on the ground. "I'm sorry, Miss paws, I got carried away, hehe!" She apologized while petting her.
'Is is finally time? Oh my poor girl, you have no idea what is coming for you.. if only I could protect you..' The feline lamented, you were scared for this day, scared to change how things would come, what if you change things for the worst?! What if the brimmed hats get their hands on Coco because you were close? You were scared.
"Oh, Coco, it's you." The door opened just to reveal clean white hair and blue intoxicating eyes behind a calm and composed face. "And who is this?"
"This is Miss paws! My cat! I brought her to see a true witch for the first time, too!" Coco said with proud while holding your front paws, making you stand in only your back ones. You watched carefully the man with careful and gloomy eyes, before meowing at him and lashing your tail back and forth, your own way of greeting Coco's future caretaker.
'He sure is as beautiful as the arts showed.. do witch's have special face products? There isn't a single spot in his face.' You analyzed him with care, not holding yourself and your hobby for beauty while judging him.
Maybe you liked self care in your past life? Who knows..
"It's nice to meet you, Miss paws." He greeted holding one of your paws and pretending to shake it. Coco smiled happily. "I'm qifrey, a true witch that is here to help fix some things." He played.
He straightened himself, changing his attention to the girl instead. "Coco, could I ask you something?"
Besides the task given to Coco, you were granted the privilege to go as you pleased inside the hut with qifrey, and so you did. While Coco was outside sitting in front of the door, you were inside. After all, what problems could a cat do? It's not like you can talk and reveal the truth about magic anyways. So you watched carefully while qifrey sorted his materials to start working on the drawing.
You watched with attention, from the moment he picked up his pen and started working on the circle first.
You just failed to notice the way qifrey stopped momentarily to watch you with careful eyes.
He felt something strange coming from you, you looked too sentient for a normal cat, he knew something was wrong the moment his eyes landed on you a while back, he could feel the weird energy around you, like you didn't fit who you were.
Deep in his mind, he wondered if you were really just a cat, he remembered how Coco talked about the first witch she saw long ago. Maybe there is something he doesn't know? Or just didn't understand yet.
Some time passed, you were able to hear the exact moment Coco saw the truth behind magic, you had heard her careful footsteps with your cat ears, shifting in your position and drawing qifteys attention to yourself, preventing Coco from getting caught, even if you knew she was not going to.
Qifrey worked on the last line before releasing a sigh.
"Finally, it's done, good as new to fly again." He talked carefully, like he was talking to you, which dragged your attention to him.
You meowed to him, watching him back.
He kept his eyes on you, his face more serious for a moment, he took his time to analyze you and your reactions. You, in return, just looked back at him with big green eyes, with a stare as deep as his.
He swore he could see hope in your eyes as you watched him back.
"Are you truly... A cat?" He whispered more to himself, but loud enough that you could hear clearly, you just blinked in return.
He sighed again, breaking the eye contact and starting to pack his things.
'Did he noticed?' you questioned yourself while still watching him take away his pen and ink. Soon after qifrey opened the hut door, being faced by Coco, who stared at the door with a face of someone deep in thoughts. You left before they finished talking, deciding to pass the most time you could with Coco's mom before she... Well.
You arrived quickly at her side, rubbing against her legs to draw her attention to you.
"Oh, hello there, paws." She recognized you, picking you up on her arms and brushing that spot in the back of your ears that makes you melt every time.
'Not that I'm a true cat, but after years, how could one not enjoy this kind of attention?' you reasoned with your human morals that way, enjoying the pets.
Coco and qiftey soon arrived, Coco skipping to her mother's side, holding qifrey's belongings while he tested the chariot.
"Are you alright? I thought you wanted to see the winged chariot." The woman asked, stoping to pet you for a moment. "It's so rare for you not to get all excited when it comes to magic."
Coco looked away with a sad and confused face. Only changing it when qifrey arrived asking if she was alright, she answered shoving his things on him and hiding behind her mother.
You sighed internally, watching the hole scene unfold. 'I wish I could help in some way..' you have thought about trying to save the woman, but despite how much is hurts, you are still scared to do something that would change Coco's destiny for the worst in the future. So the only thing you did was watch her mother with found and sad eyes, purring in her hold and enjoying her presence while you could. You have always felt like she was your own mother, after she and Coco adopted you.
"Goodbye, may our paths cross again." Qifrey said as he left, his silluet fading in the distance slowly, making you leave your own mind to reality again. You felt the woman holding you leave a sigh, relieved. But you didn't paid attention to her. Focusing on the witch that would soon return. Only after he was only a dot in the distance and when Coco's mom turned to leave your eyes left his back.
She dropped you on the ground again, but you followed after her closely, meowing to draw her attention again.
"And what about you? What got you so clingy today, kitty?" She questioned the black cat following her steps, entering her shop again with an idea.
You watched as she got a piece of fabric and started folding it weirdly, passing it around her body like a second shirt. After finishing, she scooped you up again and started tucking you inside the fabric like in a kangaroo pouch, except it holds you right on her chest, where you could hear her heart beating slowly.
'She is holding me like a baby, maybe she used to do this with Coco?' you started the machine inside you again, purring loudly against her chest happily, enjoying every last second you would have with her by your side.
After finishing, she returns to her duty on the store, attending to costumers while you slept the hole evening being hold by her, in a way that made you feel like you belonged there more than anything.
This would be your last memory with her, and you would cherish it forever, until the day she is set free from the crystal comes.
Until the day you finally regain your memories.
Until the day you recognize who you truly are.
English not my first language, I'm also not sure about the translation of some terms so correct me if I get something wrong. Until next time!
And that's the part that's making me lose my fucking mind.
We lost an entire section of the MAIN STORY.
The livestream literally told us Valko's release was going to reveal more about the Aethercoreāone of the biggest mysteries in Love and Deepspace and something that's been central to the plot from the very beginning.
So now what?
You think they can just delete him and nothing changes?
Do people genuinely think you can rip out an entire story arc without consequences?
Everything that was supposed to be revealed through Valko now has to be rewritten, redistributed, or outright cut. The main story is going to have to be retconned. Future updates are going to have to be reworked. Characters may have to be rewritten just to fill the gap he leaves.
If you're celebrating this because you "won," I sincerely hope you understand what you've actually cheered for.
