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it was always you.

for as long as you remember, you’ve always had the fattest crush on your childhood friend, jeon jungkook. it never blossomed into something more though, because that’s what happens when life naturally takes it course—you grow up, you move on, and you pretend that those feelings never existed in order to maintain the good friendship that remained between the two of you over the years.

so when he visits you after work one day, asking you to marry him, you do everything you can to refuse, because the reason he’s asking you isn’t due to the fact that he finally realized that he loved you after all this time, but because he thinks he’s doing you a big favor.

or at least, that’s what you think.

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 13.2k

rating: 18+

content: fluff, semi-angst, childhood friends to lovers au, pining au | ft. naval aviator!jungkook + brother’s best friend!jungkook; professor!reader + editor!reader | inspired by purple hearts

warning/s: swearing, potentially wrong medical & military information (i’m sorry but i tried to do as much research i can 😭), mentions of having type 1 diabetes, making out, heavy petting, implied sexual content: oral (f. receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (this is only fiction!)

MINI PLAYLIST: ♫ die with a smile — lady gaga, bruno mars ♫ juno — sabrina carpenter ♫ selfish — *nsync ♫ nandito na ako — benj pangilinan, angela ken

opening note. omg this is my first full length fic in two damn years i think??? certainly took a long time before i had the motivation to write again but i hope y'all like this! to my og readers who still keep up with my shenanigans, this one's for you 🥹💗

“Any questions?”

A boy wearing half-rimmed glasses raises his hand and you gesture for him to speak. “Can we get an extension on the Save the Cat project due tomorrow?”

You sigh, just as several of your students begin agreeing with him and muttering reasons of their own why the extension should be approved. It’s the week before finals, and you’re aware that the class must be packed with assignments and projects for several of their classes because of it, hence the rather last minute request. They look tired and pleading, a complete reflection of how you were when you were the one in their position nearly a decade ago, begging for an extension from a professor who you thought was kind enough to be swayed with the proposition.

You scan the crowd. “How many of you are at least 70% with it, hm?”

More than half of the class raises their hands.

“Okay, that’s honestly unexpected,” you say, pleased to know that they aren’t slacking on your subject. “Does Monday sound good? That’s three more days, to be fair. I don’t want to extend it further because I have to read everyone’s work and you guys know I don’t like rushing it before turning in your final grade.”

A chorus of relief and thanks echoed in the room, all of your students either dramatically sinking in their chair or erupting in an animated conversation with their seatmate or making crying faces to portray how grateful they are.

“Thank you so much, Ms. ____!”

“I love you, Ms. ____!”

“Ms. ____, I will offer my first child to you,” one theatrically adds and you smile a bit, rolling your eyes at students like this one who is now opting to flatter you way too much for your act of kindness.

“Alright, alright. Just get it done and I’m expecting quality work, okay? Class dismissed.”

The whole class begins to gather their things at the cue and you don’t stay there a minute longer after your announcement, exiting the lecture hall to head to the faculty room where you’re certain half of the teaching staff have gone home already. It’s already 8:47 p.m., and all you want to do is head home to get the rest you deserve after an eventful day.

There was a time that having a schedule from 6 p.m. to 9 p.m. wasn’t the norm for you. You used to value work life balance so much—it was even a nonnegotiable you used to say in interviews, saying that if you didn’t get enough rest within the week, then the job most likely wasn’t for you. But things have been very different for the past months; you have definitely grown out of that mindset due to the fact that you’re simply in need of another source of income to pay for your monthly rent, utility bills, and now your medication. You’re in a stage of your life wherein you consider working part time as a professor was a blessing rather than a big nuisance.

Making a right turn to where the hallway to the faculty room is, you’re too busy rearranging the papers inside the folder you’re holding to notice a man sitting on the bench placed just beside the entrance. He notices you the second you appear in his line of vision though; he straightens his posture and proceeds on standing up immediately upon seeing you closer, calling your name softly when you failed to look at his direction, too preoccupied with the thought of finally coming home that you’re oblivious that the man trying to catch your attention is Jeon Jungkook.

“____,” he calls again and this time you notice him, your eyes widening instantly.

“Holy shi—” You stop yourself from finishing that sentence. “Jungkook?”

He grins. “Hey, lamb chop.”

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Is that how you greet an old friend?”

“Oh, fuck off.”

He laughs, following suit to you who’s already giggling just by his presence alone, outstretching his arms then. “You gonna hug me or what?”

You beam and step forward to embrace him. He returns it without hesitation, muscular arms circling around you and squeezing tightly that it lifts you up from the ground for a quick second. The faint smell of fabric conditioner on his clothes enters your nostrils and you feel like a teenager again, warmth rushing to your face while your heart hammers loudly in your chest. Regardless of how old the both of you are, you think your hopeless crush on the guy will forever live on and constantly transform you into a middle school girl whenever opportunities like these to have him near arise. You’re just happy you’ve trained yourself to be better at hiding it now compared to when you were younger.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in base or wherever it is that you’re designated?” you ask, the first to let go from the hug.

“Actually, I returned from deployment three days ago. I’m on leave for two weeks.”

“Wow. Two weeks, huh?”

“Yep. It’s the longest break I’ve gotten in a while.”

“That’s good. Everybody needs a break from time to time.”

“Says the girl has a day job and a night job.” He points out with a smirk; your heart does a little leap at how handsome he looks doing that. “When the hell did you get into teaching, by the way? I never pegged you to be the kind who can tolerate it. You hate kids.”

“You’ll find yourself tolerating lots of things in this economy.” You snort. “And my students aren’t kids. They’re in college.”

“Yeah, which you graduated from six years ago. Still technically kids.”

“Are you seriously jabbing at my age when you’re two years older than I am?”

He rolls his eyes at that one, an indication that you won the argument. “Anyway,” he starts again and you grin, “I didn’t come here to compare how old we are—”

“You didn’t?”

He sends you a look. Your grin gets even wider.

“I’m here because I was hoping to treat you to dinner.”

“Dinner?” you repeat, not masking the surprise from your voice.

Let’s get the facts straight before we proceed to this conversation.

It isn’t a lie when you say that you and Jungkook are great friends. You have been since you were 7 and your family just moved into the house next to theirs. He was a natural playmate, a companion when you couldn’t tolerate the antics of your older brother, the boy who looked out for you aside from said older brother, and the person you’ve shared significant history with throughout your youth that you can never seem to forget nor disregard.

It’s just that you never deemed that you were great enough friends for him to go out of his way and visit you at your workplace, offering to treat you for dinner. Gestures like that were reserved for your older brother, Seowon, who’s the same age as he is and who you’re sure is considered as his best friend. Compared to them, yours and Jungkook’s dynamic shifted slightly after graduating from college. What once was a really close friendship turned into a casual one, with mostly just teasing, light talks, and the occasional welfare checks at times you hear certain news from the other that’s worth speaking directly about.

At the mention of that, realization dawns on you on why he must be here.

“Jungkook…” You’re trying not to sound mad but you can’t hide the exasperation from your voice. “That’s not the real reason you’re here.”

“Of course, it is. Why else would I be here?”

“He told you, didn’t he?” you ask, not willing to drag this out. “You’re just going to give me another lecture that I definitely don’t need.”

Jungkook frowns, like he’s dismayed that you caught on pretty swiftly.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” You pressed.

“He meant well, ____.”

You scowl. To remark that Seowon is unnecessarily nosy and coddling would be an understatement. That man hasn’t left you alone the second he was aware of your condition. Usually, whenever he gets into his ‘big brother tendencies’, his girlfriend Winnie steps in and helps you lay him off your back. However, it’s different this time; no matter how much you reinstill your independence and insist that you’re fine, it’s like you’re talking to a wall.

“What exactly did you hear from him?” you query.

He seems hesitant in answering that. “That you got diagnosed with type 1 diabetes.”

You wince.

“Look,” he steps forward towards you, “I wasn’t going to bring it up unless you did, okay? I’m just here because I’m genuinely worried about you and I want to know how you’re doing.”

“I’m fine.” You murmur. “You don’t need to worry.”

“Worry doesn’t vanish magically just because someone says so.”

“Well, it should—because I’m fine.”

“You sure? I heard that you’re struggling to buy insulin among other things you’re having a hard time paying.”

“Fuck. Seowon told you that too? That’s private.”

“My parents know. He just filled me in because he wants you to have as much support as you can get.”

“I don’t need that. I’m an adult. I’ve lived by myself for years. I can fend for myself just fine.”

“It doesn’t look like it from what I’ve been hearing.”

“All you’re hearing is a warped and exaggerated version of the story told by Seowon who won’t listen to a word I say.” You huff. “I’m fine and I’ve been doing everything I can, alright? I’m taking care of myself. I’m going to the doctor whenever I need to. I’m making ends meet, buying treatment for this goddamn disease and regulating my sugar levels all the fucking time. Why do you think I’ve been working two jobs for the past year? It’s because I’m doing everything I can to stay alive.”

Jungkook doesn’t reply, he only remains gazing at you.

“If you’re here to offer me money or whatever because of what he said,” you add, already embarrassed that you can’t even look at him anymore, “then I don’t want it.”

“That’s not what I’m here for,” he says.

“Then are you really just here to treat me to dinner?” you question sarcastically.

He laughs and you dare return your eyes at him, catching him peering at you with a fond expression. “Yes. It’s my way of doing a welfare check.”

“Welfare check.” You echo with squinted eyes. “Well, in that case, here I am—alive and healthy.”

“I can see that, and I’m glad.” He smiles. “But I need more than just seeing you. I need a conversation and an apology.”

“An apology?”

“For being the last person to know about your condition.”

“And we’re still talking about that apparently.” You mutter under your breath. “Sorry. I didn’t think that you wanted to know.”

“Of course, I would have wanted to know. It’s you we’re talking about here.”

Something about how he said you causes your lips to twitch as you fight off a smile. This isn’t a good time to dive into your romantic feelings for your childhood crush, but when he’s letting go of lines like that which are sure to have your heart soaring out of your chest, it’s hard to keep on a cool and unfazed facade. You just convince yourself that he sees you as a little sister and that’s why he’s so worried; you should already be past your ‘delulu’ phase at this age to be affected by such statements.

“I didn’t want to add to your worries,” you reason. “You already have your life to think about. Add to the fact that you’re a naval aviator—so you literally have your own life first to think about.”

“I can make space for you.”

Is he flirting? Is this a normal thing to say between friends?

You blink. “Okay, uh, that’s… that’s completely up to you, I guess.”

“I just like knowing those things first hand. It makes me worry less.”

“Got it. Next time I learn I’m dying, I’ll tell you.”

“____,” he says your name in warning, and you know he’s serious.

“Sorry.” You heat up. “I couldn’t resist.”

“Don’t be a pain in the ass.”

“I promise that’ll be the last time I make a dark joke, Lieutenant.”

Jungkook’s nostrils flare. You prevent yourself from grinning like a fool again in success of getting on his nerves.

“Are you done here? Because I’m hungry and would really like to get going now.” He changes the subject and gestures to the faculty.

“Yeah. I’ll just get my things and then I can get out of here.”

“Great. You’re letting me take you to dinner, right?” 

“Do I have a choice?”

“No.”

“Fine.” You deadpan.

This time, he’s the one who’s beaming at you. “I’ll wait for you here and we can go.”

“Okay.”

****

When Jungkook discovered that you had type 1 diabetes through a phone call with Seowon, he spent the rest of the night staring at the ceiling, ignoring the snores of his squadmates and overthinking what’s supposed to happen to you now that you had an autoimmune disease which he was told didn’t have a cure. He was assured that you were okay despite it, that there was medication to treat it, and that you had access to them and have been very careful with your lifestyle due to the diagnosis ever since.

He still couldn’t be put to ease though. As ridiculous as it may sound, he had this overwhelming realization that life truly was short, that you had to make certain decisions all the time because you need to adjust to what the universe is only willing to give you. It was funny coming from a person who risked his life for a living. He thinks that perhaps he never understood the philosophy of the quote ‘time is gold’ until he had a loved one on the same trajectory, always one step closer to possible death.

And so that same night, he decided to file a leave for two weeks, effective immediately after his deployment. 

He wasn’t sure what his game plan was exactly in filing that two-week leave. Was he supposed to barge in your life and force you to let him take care of you? Was he supposed to demand why you ended up having diabetes? Was he supposed to act as a big brother like your actual big brother because he was that worried about you? But if Jungkook was going to be truthful, he already had an idea on what he wanted to do in the back of his head—he just didn’t want to execute it because it was absolutely insane.

Until he heard Seowon suggest it himself when they met up at a bar to share a drink together.

“She would never say yes,” Jungkook said, beyond doubt that you won’t be persuaded that easily with a plan like that.

Seowon made a face. “I know. That girl is so hyper independent—she’d rather die than accept help.” He scoffed. “She needs it though. It’ll help with her medication and she won’t have to pay rent for that shit apartment she’s living in. Plus, she'll actually get the chance to take care of her body if she’s not juggling two jobs to have sufficient income.”

“You’re right.” Jungkook shrugged.

“You’ll do it then?”

He took a sip of his beer. “Yeah. I’d do anything for ____, you know that.”

“Even as crazy as marrying her?”

“Sure.”

Seowon stared at him, narrowing his eyes and morphing his expression into a teasing one. “Are you sure you’re not just considering this because it’s a perfect excuse to marry my sister? I know you like her.”

“I don’t like her.” 

“You’re in love with her.”

“I don’t—” Jungkook began to deny but Seowon was staring him down. “Fuck you, man. Don’t make me some kind of pervert who’s trying to lock her into marriage because he likes her. You’re the one who brought the idea up.”

Seowon laughed out loud. “I know, I just can’t believe you’d agree. It’ll benefit ____, that’s for sure—you, on the other hand? It’s career suicide.”

He shrugged. “I’m okay with the thought that she’ll be okay.”

“Because you love her, man.” Seowon pushed. “Why on earth would you consider this if you weren’t? It’s a fraudulent marriage. You’ll be thrown in the brig and be dishonorably discharged if you get caught.”

“We don’t even know if she’ll agree to this whole thing. You said it yourself, she would never say yes.”

“Yeah, unless maybe you’re the one who tries to persuade her.”

“Me?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want me to buy her a ring and kneel down before her or something?”

“That can work.”

“What?” Jungkook laughed.

Seowon raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you don’t know how she’s been crushing on you since we were kids.”

He barked out a laugh again. That he knew; it was impossible not to when a lot of friends and cousins kept on teasing you before, especially at instances Jungkook was in the very same vicinity. “We’re not kids anymore and I barely see her though.”

“Still, it ought to count to something. It raises the chances of her agreeing.”

“You’re really cool with me marrying your sister, Won?” Jungkook asked.

Seowon placed down the beer bottle he’s consuming on the counter. “Yeah. You’re a good guy. You’re not perfect, but I know you enough to know that you won’t do anything that will purposely hurt her. Besides, if this sham marriage ends up to be a real relationship and then for some reason, you fuck up and decide to break her heart—I’ll easily know what to do, where to find you, to fuck you up.”

Jungkook pressed his lips together to stifle a chuckle.

“Noted.”

****

It’s always been a big wonder to you how no matter how long it’s been since you saw each other, it still feels like no time has passed between you and Jungkook. You think that’s why you can never get over him; he always had this comforting and familiar aura that you appreciate—something that you sought for in every other person that you liked. Maybe it was impractical, maybe it was the reason you can never hold a relationship for more than two years, but unless you gain the courage to confront your feelings and tell Jungkook about it, then you constantly dispel any doubts you might have whether this was good for you or not.

You don’t want to lose him. Admitting that you harbored romantic feelings for him would just make it awkward for everyone: your brother, your family, and then his family. You don’t think you can ever trade his smile, the sound of his laughter, and all the good things about him for anything in the world. 

“Are you dating anyone?” he asks.

You choke on your drink, having just poured yourself and Jungkook a glass of water after the server arrived with the pitcher. You’re in a Japanese restaurant near the university, aware that the cuisine was a favorite for the both of you hence why it’s what you recommended when he asked where you wanted to dine. The place is packed with people from the workforce and students; you’re thankful that you don’t see any of your students within the mix.

“We’re getting straight to it, huh?” you say.

Jungkook smirks. “I’m just making sure I’m not upsetting a boyfriend by meeting you tonight.”

“Don’t worry, you’re not upsetting anyone.”

He nods in understanding. You don’t want to add more meaning to his actions for the evening but he seems glad about the information.

“How about you?” you ask back. “Are you dating anyone?”

The ends of his mouth lift a bit upwards. “Nope.”

“Why? You don’t have the time for it?”

“Precisely.”

“It must be really hard dating when you’re in the Navy then.”

“Kinda. We’re away a lot and stationed in different places most of the time. It can get really dangerous for us too and people don’t like the stress that comes with that.”

 You bob. “Does it get lonely?”

“Sometimes, but when you’re on duty, you don’t get to think about those things.” He chuckles. “Besides, I don’t know if this sounds fucked up or not—but it can get exciting. Flying a plane can be fun, you know. Not to mention that it helps when you’re surrounded by good men in your squadron.”

“You’ve always been an adrenaline junkie.”

“And you’ve always been a scaredy-cat.”

You scoff at the declaration. “No, I’m not.”

“Remember when Seowon and I forced you to ride that ship in the amusement park that sways left to right and as it goes on it falls from a higher standpoint?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

But you do, and Jungkook knows you do, it’s evident by how your expression is trying to feign innocence. That memory is your villain origin story; the whole pretext of why you refuse to ever visit the amusement park or ride an exhilarating ride again. Yet you can’t help but recall that it’s one of the rare instances wherein you got to hold Jungkook’s hand when you two were younger, as his hand was the one you were clinging for dear life when it happened while the other was too busy slapping Seowon in irritation.

He snickers, appearing like he’s replaying the scene in his head. “We should do that again with Seowon during my break.”

“Hell no.”

“I thought you weren’t a scaredy-cat?” He challenges.

“I’m not.” You give him a kittenish glare. “But I am busy. I have to send the final manuscript of this book I’m editing to the chief editor next week and it’s about to be finals week for my students as well.”

He fakes a shiver. “I don’t know how you can do two jobs like that, ____. Truly.”

“You work as a naval aviator so I’d say we’re pretty even.”

The waiter arrives with your orders not long after, and you and Jungkook carry on with your conversation, jumping from topic to topic without difficulty. You’re not certain when was the last time you saw each other like this to have so much to talk about—was it last Christmas? Or was it more recent or longer than that? Nevertheless, it feels good and you find yourself blushing multiple times throughout the night, whether it’s because of how his words can have two meanings or how his eyes are staring at you so intensely whenever you’re the one who’s talking.

You like the undivided attention, the back and forth that’s occurring as you discourse, the subtle touches one of you does when something funny arises, how your knees are touching underneath the table. You wonder what’s so different with this encounter that the energy feels so bizarre in a good way? As far as you’re concerned, you’re positive that you’re acting like you always have in his presence—lively, smiley, sarcastic—and aside from the little touches of flirting here and there, Jungkook’s acting like he always has too.

When dinner was done, Jungkook offered to drive you home. You obliged, no longer in the mood to annoy him for you were tired to make the effort. Before stepping outside the restaurant however, you excused yourself to the restroom first, checking your blood sugar with the glucose meter you brought along wherever you went. It’s a hassle but it’s necessary, largely because you’re still in the middle of saving up for the insulin pump that would help you regulate your sugar levels easier.

After administering yourself with the insulin injection you have, you spend a few more seconds inside the enclosed room. You should be past the point of feeling sorry for yourself, but it’s times like this wherein you’re with a loved one that the dejection hits and you wish that you’re in a better predicament than you are right now. You’re close to being broke, you’re overworked, you’re somehow fatigued all the fucking time—those factors aren’t soothing your worries at all. It’s a miracle how you manage to keep an optimistic mind amidst everything.

“Ready to go?” Jungkook smiles at you once you’re back at the table and you nod, clutching your bag tighter against your body and following him to his car.

He drives you to your place, turning the radio on, and letting it play while the both of you sit in silence. You’re both tired and you almost even sleep during the ride. It’s only when Jungkook gently shakes you awake that you realize that you’ve arrived in front of your apartment building.

“I’ll walk you up,” he insists as you’re unbuckling the seatbelt. 

“That’s no need, Kook.”

“Of course, it is,” he says. “I’ll walk you up. That’s nonnegotiable.”

So, you allow him.

It takes five minutes tops to reach the door leading to your apartment. As you rummage through your bag to grab your keys, Jungkook patiently stands there, occasionally glancing around the hallway and even smiling when the old lady that resided in the same floor got out of her room to throw out the trash. He receives a smile in return which you notice and grin fondly at.

“Well, this is me.” You turn to him, done unlocking your door. “I’d invite you inside but you should probably get going. It’s quite a long drive back home.”

“Yeah.” He breathes out a chuckle. “Hey, tonight was fun. It made me realize how I missed you.”

Your brain temporarily malfunctions; you force yourself to recover quickly. “Me too. I had fun tonight. Maybe we should do this again whenever you’re on a break.”

“Agreed.”

You flash him a smile. “You can go now. Goodnight.”

Jungkook nods, however doesn’t move a muscle. He’s looking at you, like really looking at you, his eyes moving from one feature to another, as if he’s memorizing your face or having a hard time arranging the words he wants to say. You guess it’s the latter, familiar with a tongue-tied Jungkook that it takes you a few good seconds before you’re demanding why he’s impersonating a mannequin.

“There’s something I want to say,” that’s what he utters and you almost snort due to your assumption being right.

“Okay…” The smile is still on your lips. “What is it?”

“Promise me you won’t get mad first.”

“Well, if you’re making me promise that then it’s probably worth being mad about.”

“It’s not as bad as you think.”

“That’s not convincing at all.”

“It’s just…” He begins and trails, biting his lower lip, “it’s… it’s why I went here. Why I went here to see and meet you, I mean.”

You unconsciously recoil at the revelation. It’s certainly a rookie mistake to believe that there was no ulterior motive in Jungkook meeting you today. You just didn’t reckon you’d actually be truly disappointed at that—at the idea that he just didn’t randomly decide to visit and be with you earlier until now.

You draw a long breath. “Well, I knew you weren’t just feeling generous and wanted to treat me to dinner out of nowhere.”

There’s a pause and then he resumes. “Just—before I say it, you have to hear me out, okay? You have to let me explain before you berate me.”

“I can’t promise that either.”

“You have to.”

“Why do I have to?”

“Because what I’m about to say is for your own sake. You know I always have your best interest at heart, don’t you?”

You wrinkle your forehead in further confusion. “Can you just get on with it? The vagueness is making me more annoyed.”

“I just don’t want you to misunderstand.”

“Misunderstand what?”

“What I—and Seowon—genuinely think is the best option.”

“Oh, and Seowon is in on this too?” You bellow. “Have you and Seowon just been conspiring behind my back the whole time?”

“Calm down.” Jungkook puts his hands on your shoulders, a chuckle inevitably escaping him. “I’m sorry for dragging it out. You should know I’m high key afraid of you, that’s why.”

“You should be.” You grumble.

Another chuckle, but he’s back to appearing anxious. You want to shout that this isn’t healthy, that you’re close to giving him a real reason to be afraid of you—yet once he blurts the confession out, you’re speechless, gawking at him and staggering backwards in complete shock. Perhaps you would have bolted as far away from him as possible if not for his solid grasp.

“What?” You hiss.

He swallows hard.

“I want you to marry me, ____.”

You don’t bolt away running. You shake off his hold on you though, and before he gets another word in, you’re hastily rushing inside your apartment and slamming the door to his face.

****

Jungkook was your first kiss.

It happened in a game of truth and dare. You were at a party of a mutual friend and when the bottle miserably pointed in Jungkook’s direction, the person who was tasked to think of his dare when it was his pick said that he dared him to do 7 minutes in heaven with you. 

He profusely refused at first, especially since Seowon was in the same party, but everybody began booing and next thing you know, Jungkook was agreeing as long as it was fine with you. When you nodded to make your consent apparent, your friends were quick to shove you both in the closet, some of them pulling Seowon back who was complaining how it wasn’t right to bully you into doing 7 minutes in heaven with Jungkook. They calmed him down once they bullied him into agreeing too.

“We don’t have to do anything,” Jungkook told you in the darkness, his breath fawning over your face. “You don’t have to feel pressured. It’s just a stupid game.”

You blushed.

Secretly, you were hoping that he’d kiss you or touch you. Who didn’t want to do anything with their crush at the age of 15? A lot can happen in 7 minutes. You were aware that sometimes people made out, went as far as third base, and although you didn’t want to go that far with Jungkook, you wanted something to happen while you were stuck in this small closet with him. There weren’t a lot of instances that put both of you in this kind of situation; you wished that you were brave enough to ask him to kiss you or do the first move yourself.

5 minutes in, Jungkook turned towards you.

“Is it true that Taehyung kissed you last week?”

You whipped your head so fast that you might have given yourself whiplash. “That’s—that’s not true. Where did you hear that?”

“During homeroom. Some girls were talking about it.”

Your cheeks burned. “Oh.”

“So, it’s not true?”

“No.” You shook your head. “I haven’t even had my first kiss yet.” You laughed weakly.

It was his turn to seem stunned. “You haven’t had your first kiss yet?”

You shook your head again, then realized he might not see you doing so. “Not yet.”

“Want me to change that?” he asked, grinning.

He said that with a boyish grin and teasing tone, but you sucked at social cues (plus, you really couldn’t see shit that much) that you started nodding.

“Okay,” you told him.

“Huh?”

“You can kiss me.”

“Oh, oh, shit—I didn’t—” He was blabbering, about to take back what he offered. “I mean, I was just joking but—”

You widen your eyes. “You were? Oh my God, I’m sorry, I thought you were—”

“No, it was my fault. That was a little out of line for me. I’m sorry.” He was laughing and you felt like burying yourself 6 feet under. “It was a stupid thing to say. But if you want me to kiss you, it’s cool.”

“It is?” Hope sparked within you.

“Yeah. It’ll just be a peck anyway.” You can tell he was smiling through his voice. “Just don’t tell Seowon because he might punch me in the face for kissing his sister.”

You cackled. “Deal.”

56 seconds before the 7 minutes were up, Jungkook leaned down to match your level and placed his lips on yours. 

****

You’re seething with rage, the embodiment of Godzilla, channeling the God of War, Ares, in your body; you harshly press Seowon’s number on your phone to call him and he answers after three rings.

“What’s up?”

“I will fucking murder you,” you snarl.

A beat. You hear shuffling. Then he answers, “you already talked with Jungkook?”

The nonchalance and calmness in his voice drives you to be more frustrated than you already are. “Yes, I have! What is wrong with you? Why would you plant that idea on his head?” You yell, not caring that your walls are thin and that your voice can probably be heard by the couple that lived next door. You’re feeling a mixture of anger, embarrassment, and every negative emotion that exists at the moment. You’re comparable to a bull who just saw the color red.

“____, it won’t be a big deal if you don’t make it to be.”

“Are you hearing yourself right now?”

“Did you even let Jungkook explain?”

“I don’t need him to spell everything out. I know why he’s asking me to marry him.”

“Then you know too that it’d be good for you.”

“Marrying him won’t be good for me.”

“Why not?”

“It just won’t!”

“You’ll get health insurance benefits that you don’t get with your current jobs. You can pay less rent once you move in at Jungkook’s place—there’s a huge chance he won’t even let you pay him while you stay there too. He’s away most of the time anyway, so staying there wouldn’t be a problem. Plus, you can start studying for a masters degree like you’ve always wanted.”

You groan. “Not like this. This is crazy.”

“The both of you can divorce once you’ve saved up a little. It really isn’t that complicated.”

“It’s a sham marriage!”

“It’s a sham marriage with Jungkook.”

“That doesn’t make it better.”

“Are you sure? Your grade school diary might disagree.”

“Oh my God, that’s fucking low of you to bring that up. You just gave me another reason to hate you.” You stomp around the living room, acting like a teenager because of your brother’s behavior. This isn’t the first time he revealed that he’s read your diary before; that doesn’t mean it’s less infuriating to be reminded that he has. “I swear, you better fucking sleeping with one eye open tonight. I’m choking you to death.”

Seowon laughs out loud. “Just marry him. He’s surprisingly amicable with the idea.”

“That’s because you’re pressuring him! I bet you and Mom devised this entire thing together.”

“Mom doesn’t know. To be fair, she’d probably have the same reaction as you. It’s all me and Jungkook.”

“Wow. You have two brains and yet none of you thought this was goddamn stupid?”

“It’s not stupid. It’s genius if you come to think of it,” he says. “Jungkook just wants to help you, dude. He wants to make sure you’ll be okay and all that shit. You’re the reason he filed for a two-week leave, did he tell you?”

Your heart does that jumping thing again. “No.”

“Well, he did. He’s on a break for two weeks because he wants to convince you to marry him and actually marry you within that time frame.”

“This is nuts.” You sigh, finally flopping down the sofa and rubbing your face with your free hand. “The both of you are nuts. How are you okay with this?”

“It’s Jungkook. I trust him. Don’t you?”

“Of course, I do, I just—” you cut yourself off and frown, “I just feel like it’s unfair for him. I’m marrying him because of military spouse benefits and what does he get?”

There’s a long pause, and you almost check your phone to see whether Seowon has already hung up on you or not.

“It’s better that Jungkook answers that question,” he tells you finally.

“Why? You can’t answer it on behalf of him?”

“Something like that.” You can imagine him shrugging. “All I know is that he’s genuinely concerned about your health and your financial status right now. So, just think about it, okay?”

“God, fuck it, fine. I’ll think about it.” You grimace.

You hang up and glance at the door.

You don’t think the conversation you just had with Seowon took that much time. The initial rush you had upon having your longtime crush propose to you is wearing off and you’re realizing that it was a dick move to literally slam the door right in Jungkook’s face earlier, leading you to stand up from your seat and look through the peephole to check if he’s still there.

He isn’t, which you sigh in relief at.

As you lean against the door and regulate your breathing, you think how funny it is that Seowon is right about one thing—and that was grade school you would have been delighted at the thought of getting married to Jungkook. He’s your dream guy; your parents loved him, his parents loved you, the both of you got along very well, and his personality and looks are everything that you’re looking for in a partner. It sucks that you live in a world where the only reason he wants to marry you is because he’s afraid you’ll die because of self-neglect. 

Your phone pings and you unlock the screen to look at the message that flashes on it.

Jungkook: hey, seowon just messaged me to say that you two already talked Jungkook: i’m sorry for jumping on you with a topic like that… Jungkook: i’m shit at confrontation lol Jungkook: also it’s the first time i’m proposing so give me some slack

You scoff at his audacity to joke about it this soon.

You: it’s okay You: i’m sorry too for what i did You: the answer is no btw

Jungkook: already??? Jungkook: let’s talk about it first

You: no need You: i don’t want to marry you

Jungkook: oof that’s harsh

You: sorry not sorry?

He doesn’t respond and you think you’re safe. Maybe Jungkook does take no for an answer and you’re confused because you’re a little disappointed that he’s not falling on his knees, begging you to marry him like what your imagination is supplying you.

However, after you took a shower and went to check your phone again, you see that Jungkook messaged you a few minutes ago in response to your last message.

Jungkook: give me 10 days and i’ll change your mind

You have the urge to go take a shower again because of how hot your body is feeling at the statement.

You: hate to break it to you but you’re not matthew mcconaughey

Jungkook: 🤣🤣🤣

****

It’s not part of Jungkook’s branding to chase a woman. Typically, women chase him; they chase him in every city and country that he gets stationed in, flirting with him and hoping that they’ll get the chance to take him home for the night for a mindblowing one-night stand. They never succeed though, for despite their pretty faces and sultry gestures, Jungkook only smiles and declines every offer, saying that he had a girl waiting back home that he loved very much.

He used to think that he only used that as an excuse because he’s not the type to hook up with every attractive girl he meets. There are times when he succumbs, when he gives into the temptation of a little fun, especially after a life threatening or highly stressful mission—but most of the time, he thinks he declines and use that pronouncement of his because his mind reverts him to the idea of you, to what would happen if he just gained the balls to ask you out.

Evidently, although asking you out and asking you to marry him are two completely different things, he’s a bit afraid that your answer will always be a hard no. It’s what you’ve been literally spelling out to him since the day he presented the idea, regardless of how he’s trying his best in swooning you or explaining how this is the perfect plan to help you gain an upper hand with your diagnosis.

“I’ll file a restraining order against you, I’m serious,” you say to him when he appears yet again outside the faculty room, waiting for you to gather your things and head home. You’re wearing a white button up shirt and pinstripe wide leg trousers, an outfit combination that he ogles at before he goes down to business.

“You wouldn’t.” He glares at you. He gestures for you to let him take your backpack, and despite what you said, you let him. “Also, what the fuck is in this thing? You’ll break your back if you keep using this.” He swings your backpack on one shoulder.

You laugh. “My laptop, its charger, a couple of notebooks, books, pens, then the outputs of my students.”

“Aren’t they supposed to submit virtually? What happened to Google Classroom?”

“I still use it, but sometimes I like to have their work printed out so I can write the comments better. How do you know Google Classroom?”

“I have a squadronmate whose kid uses it for class.”

“Ah.” You nod in understanding.

You two continue walking forward.

This has been your program for the past few days. Jungkook goes to the university you work at, he’ll wait outside, you’ll threaten him with something ridiculous, he’ll take your bag, he’ll offer to take you to dinner, you’ll decline, and then he’ll drive you home anyways. Before that routine ends, he’ll lean on your door frame and give you his best puppy eyes, asking you to marry him for the sake of your welfare, and you’ll scowl at him, insisting that you don’t need his help to survive.

“Dinner?” he asks, right on schedule.

You glance at him. “No. I want to go home and sleep for 12 hours.”

“Busy day?”

“Yep.”

“You know, if you marry me, you won’t have to work two jobs and overexert yourself.”

He doesn’t need to turn to you to know that you’re giving him a dirty look. “I won’t marry you, Jungkook.”

“Why not?”

“Because marriage doesn’t work that way.”

“It does. Billionaires do it all the time. The mafia does it too. It’s always been some kind of transaction.”

“Well, if I marry you, what do you get?”

“The assurance you’re taken care of.”

“That’s cheesy.”

You share a laugh and he grins.

“It’s true,” he says. “I’ll be fine as long as you are.”

He waits for you to quip back a reply, flickering his eyes to you when it takes longer than usual. Instead of the sneer he’s expecting, you appear to be flustered, an expression that is very recognizable for him who’s known you since forever—an expression that makes it too obvious for Jungkook that the crush you had on him that he thought has been long gone was still there. He’s been seeing it a lot lately, particularly when he’s uttering lines that sound flirtatious on purpose; he’s positive that you’ll threaten to kill him when you discover that he basks on the fact that he can still make you all flustered and cute, which encourages him to do and say anything that would elicit a reaction from you. Was it unethical to seduce you into marrying him? He might have to rethink that part too.

Reaching the parking lot, he unlocks the doors to his vehicle and places your bag inside the backseat. He watches you walk around the car, about to go to the passenger’s side, but then you wobble a bit and his attempt to get inside is instantly forgotten.

“Hey,” he strides to where you are, gazing at you as you now hold onto the hood, “you alright?”

You raise your chin up. “Kook, can you get my bag?”

Jungkook doesn’t need to be told twice. He’s swinging the door again and getting your bag from the other end of the backseat while you get on the passenger’s seat, keeping the door wide and placing your legs outside, your feet planted on the concrete.

“What do you need?” he asks, crouching in front of you and zipping the bag open.

“Glucometer.”

He halts. “What does that look like?”

“It’s in the yellow bag. There.” You point at it right when he rummages through a certain part.

He brings it out and you take it from his grasp. Your movements are sluggish but he can discern that you’re doing your best not to be too slow; he’d present to help but he knows that he might prolong what you’re doing due to his cluelessness, so he just observes, noting how you’re pricking your finger with a device and then pressing it lightly to the glucometer which shows that your blood sugar is low.

“Blue bag,” you mutter to him and he finds it faster than the last one.

It’s the insulin this time. You grab the unopened syringe, rip it out from its packet, insert it to the vial of insulin—then your hand shakes, preventing you from continuing.

“Let me do it,” he says.

You don’t fight him, you just slump against the seat as Jungkook picks up from where you left, and the moment he administers the insulin through your shoulder, a huge and long exhale escapes you.

“How are you feeling?” he whispers. He didn’t notice that he was holding his breath the entire duration of the scene.

Another sigh. “Better.”

“Does this happen a lot?”

You seem to hesitate. “Not a lot. Just when life gets a bit too hectic.”

“____—”

“Just take me home.” You don’t give him the chance to lecture you. “Please, Jungkook.”

Defeated, he nods. “Alright.”

“Thank you.”

He helps you position yourself properly on the passenger’s seat. “But we’re talking about this at your place.”

Before you can protest, he closes the door.

****

Lee Hyunwoo was the name of the guy that you brought home for Christmas Eve eight years ago. It was the first time that you did, and Jungkook hated how Hyunwoo was considerably handsome, intelligent, and kind—the exact kind of person he always imagined you deserved.

In the short time Hyunwoo spent with theirs and your family that night, everybody loved him and was already inviting him to the next gathering, all the while Jungkook avoided him at every cost, puzzled by this strong dislike he was feeling for your guest. He was annoyed at the manner in which Hyunwoo had an arm around your waist the entire evening, how you grinned up to him, eyes sparkling and all that shit. Hell, you used to look at him like that.

“Honey, can you get the mango float we have in our freezer?” Jungkook heard your mother tell you, and without thinking, he stood up from his chair and made a beeline to where you were, telling you he’d accompany you to your house.

“That’s fine,” you told him. “It’s literally next door.”

“Yeah, but it might be heavy.”

“It’s not.”

“Better safe than sorry.”

You rolled your eyes and agreed then, excusing yourself from Hyunwoo who was in an engaged conversation with Seowon. The pair were geeking out because of their mutual love for the MCU and the next film slated to be released the following year.

Upon arriving at your home, you dashed to the kitchen with Jungkook trudging behind you. He wasn’t sure what his next course of action should be now; all he wanted was some alone time with you, away from the presence of that college boyfriend of yours, but now that he had that, he couldn’t think of anything that he wanted to say or do. He wasn’t even sure why he was feeling a bit jealous—was it because of that saying? Wherein people are bound to want what they can’t have? Or was it that you only appreciate what you had when you’ve already lost it?

“How long have you and Hyunwoo been dating?” he asked, leaning against the counter as you pulled your freezer open.

“Four months, I think.”

“Four months? And you already brought him home?”

You snorted at his tone. “His family is in another country so I thought it’d be nice to invite him.”

“You must really like him then.”

“Yeah, but I’m not in love with him or anything.” You placed the mango float on the space beside Jungkook on the counter. “He’s nice, and he likes me too.”

“Does he treat you well?”

You flashed your eyes at him, amusement dancing in them. “What’s with that question?”

“What’s with it?”

“Nothing, it’s just that…” you trailed, a smirk etched on your face. “Wait a minute, are you… you can’t possibly—” Jungkook was widening his eyes, ready to deny your accusation once you questioned whether he was jealous of Hyunwoo or not— “are you pulling an overprotective brother skit on me, Kook?”

Fuck, thank God, he thought.

“I prefer ‘overprotective friend skit’,” he said.

“That doesn’t have a nice ring to it.”

“But I’m not your brother.”

“You don’t have to be, I’m just saying that you and Seowon have been acting similar since Hyunwoo and I arrived.”

“Nonsense. Seowon likes him.”

“Oh, so you don’t?”

He pressed his lips into a tight line.

“Did you just admit that you don’t like Hyunwoo?” you asked, chuckling. He was grateful that you didn’t seem to be offended by it.

“I didn’t say I didn’t like him.”

“Instead you implied it.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“You kinda did.”

He heard you laugh and he couldn’t help but allow himself to laugh as well.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “Maybe I’m just not used to you dating anyone. You are chronically single.”

“Can’t say you’re wrong.” You snorted and picked up from the mango float, marching back to his house and gesturing for him to follow you.

He did, no words spoken between the both of you once more. Though when you were entering their place again, with Jungkook holding the door open for you, he mentioned something he never reckoned he’d have the guts to mention out loud.

“When you open my gift,” he began, “don’t do it in front of Hyunwoo, okay?”

“Why not?” You weren’t paying attention to where you were going, intrigued by his warning.

“He might not like it. You’ll see.”

That night, at the comfort of your bedroom, Hyunwoo nowhere near but instead sleeping at the coach downstairs in your living room, you opened Jungkook’s gift and saw that it was a necklace with your birth flower as its pendant.

You smiled, rolling your eyes to yourself, and slept with that giddy look never leaving your face.

****

“Not so fast,” Jungkook grunts.

Did he think that you were going to be less difficult since he was helpful earlier? Yeah, he did. He likes to think that if it wasn’t for him, you would have taken longer in injecting yourself with insulin, so he at least wanted a thank you in the form of your willingness to have an adult conversation with him tonight. However, that clearly isn’t the case because when he walked you up to your apartment like he always did, you’re attempting to lock him out, shutting the door as fast as you can once you’re inside, thus trying to prevent him from initiating that talk he wanted the two of you to have.

“Seriously?” He successfully pries the door open and you scowl at him.

“Jungkook—”

“No, you don’t get to reason your way out of this. I’m done hearing you out. It’s your turn to listen to me.” He steps inside your apartment.

You groan, striding to the sofa and throwing your bag there. “You can’t force me to marry you.”

“Is marrying me so fucking bad that you can’t get over it for health insurance benefits that can really help you?” He demands, infuriated. 

“That’s not the issue.”

“Then what is?”

“You can get arrested!” you exclaim. “And so can I! Does that not freak you out?”

“We’ll only get arrested if we get caught.”

“I’m not willing to take the risk.”

“I’m not willing to see you die.”

You scoff out a laugh. “Who the fuck said anything about dying? I’m not dying.”

“You almost passed out on me. You almost—”

“It’s an error on my part, I admit.” You sigh. “When I get busy and preoccupied, sometimes I forget to check my sugar levels regularly throughout the day. I’m sorry.”

“And you expect to be convinced that you have everything handled?”

“God, I’m not a child. Stop treating me like I can’t do shit for myself.”

“Please, ___,” he approaches you with the most pleading expression he can muster, and he watches as your hard expression crumbles, “just accept my help. It’s really not a big deal—you won’t even see me often, so keeping up with the whole marriage ploy wouldn’t be difficult. We’ll divorce in two years, we can pretend we never got married after that.”

“You just don’t get it, don’t you?”

“What do I not get? If you think I don’t understand something, then explain it to me—”

“I can’t marry you,” you say. You do so like it’s final, like there’s no point in arguing with you because he can never change your stand on this. As he’s pleading with his eyes to urge you to agree, you’re communicating with your eyes in a similar way that’s wishing he would just drop this. “It’s wrong.”

His eyebrows furrow. “This isn’t the time to go on your high horse and decide what’s wrong and what’s not. It’s a fraudulent marriage—of course, it’ll be wrong to some degree.”

“No, I mean…” You turn away from him, rubbing your face in exhaustion. “It’d be wrong of me to marry you. I’m taking advantage of you if I do, and I don’t like that.”

Jungkook shakes his head, frustration worsening at the childlike excuse. Surely, you weren’t that naive, were you? “You’re not. I’m not doing this against my own will. Besides, we get extra pay just for being married. If it makes you feel better, I won’t split it with you.”

“That won’t make me feel better.”

“Then what will?”

You flop down on the coach and lean back, closing your eyes. He knows he’s being a pain in the ass but he can’t just stand here and do nothing. He thinks he’s already come too far in convincing you, he isn’t going to back out now. Every single day spent together, he can feel you warming up to the idea of marrying him for health insurance. Your connection and entirety of your relationship has been off the charts recently that it’ll be harder for him not to be assured that before he leaves for his job, you’ll be taken care off.

Jungkook goes to the spot beside you, sitting down. Your knees bump together, he keeps on gazing at you, waiting for you to focus on him; a minute passes and his gaze moves to your hand that’s laying on the small space between you.

Without overthinking, he stretches out and clasps it, allowing his fingers to play with yours that finally captures your attention. The moment he glances up, he sees that you’re staring at him and he doesn’t let go, he even smiles, a quiet promise that he’s always willing to listen to whatever you want to tell him.

You hesitantly smile back. “You know,” your eyes train back to your intertwined fingers, Jungkook reveling in the warmth of your skin, gaining more confidence in acting out his feelings, “there was a time wherein I would have said yes immediately if you asked me to marry you.”

He smirks, can’t deny how hearing that inflates his ego a bit although this route in the conversation isn’t where he expected to go. “What changed?”

“For one, I grew up.”

“Ouch.”

You laugh. Then you stay quiet for a while before speaking. “Can I confess something?”

That piques his interest. “Anything.”

“But you have to promise not to make fun of me.”

“That’s impossible.” He teases. “What is it?”

You stall, readjusting your position so that you can directly face him. Jungkook doesn’t let go of your hand, he keeps it in his grasp, his thumb rubbing along the expanse of your knuckles.

“I like you, Jungkook. I really really do,” you finally say and he blinks, startled.

It shouldn’t surprise him, considering that it’s been long established that he knew of your crush already, though he doesn’t seem to have anticipated for you to boldly admit it when all these years, it’s only been some kind of unspoken understanding that neither of you downright acknowledged.

You continue speaking. “In fact, I like you so much that maybe it developed into love at some point—I’m not sure. I’m at this stage of no longer being afraid of what I feel, I think? Most of the time, I just let it occur like it’s something so natural. Like it’s a feeling that I can never get away from? Like whatever I do, there’s no way to shake you.” You chuckle half-heartedly. “Though never in a million years would I have thought that I’d confess all of this. What for anyway? I don’t want you to be burdened with what my teenage heart couldn’t rub out.”

His mind is racing; hundred thoughts, hundred scenarios, hundred experiences he’s spent with you since the day you met. Jungkook never realized how much he needed you to say that you liked him—that maybe you even loved him—until he heard it from your very mouth that you did, causing every inhibition and doubt he had to vanish. Now, he only wants to engulf you in an embrace and shout Yes, I feel the same way! Sorry for being a fucking corward and not doing this first!

He would have done all of that in a flash if it didn’t appear that you still had something to say. Based on your rather constipated posture and the hand he’s holding that’s becoming clammy, he discerns that you’re just in the first part of what you wanted to admit.

“Actually, that’s also why I can’t let myself marry you,” you say. “I know it sounds ridiculous, but I don’t know… it feels really icky somehow. I feel like I’m holding you hostage, or that I’m tricking you because of an ulterior motive, or that I’m defying the laws of the universe by having the chance to marry you. I’m not sure. I just know that I don’t want to marry you if it means I’ll only get to do so because you think you’re doing me a huge favor. I don’t want to be your charity case, Kook—I deserve to be more than that, you know? I’m not traditional or whatever but if it’s not for love, I’m not keen on getting married.” You abruptly pull away from his clutch, embarrassment washing on your features by what you stated. “Plus, two years might not be that long but what happens when you meet someone and you like her? How can you explain that you’re only married to me because I need it for my medication? It’ll just be unnecessarily messy. I don’t want to hold you back from those kinds of things. I don’t want to be a hindrance.”

That’s his cue. That’s when he knows he’s supposed to kiss you and take your breath away, to admit that he’s certain that he has loved you since that one time when he was in the Naval Academy and although the training was hard as fuck, the thought of you gave him strength and he didn’t want to see anyone as much as he wanted to see you after—that when you and Seowon visited him, that familiar urge to have you alone was all he felt the entire time, solidifying the idea that perhaps he didn’t just see you as a friend.

“You’re unbelievably dense, ___,” he murmurs, smirking at the play of events, and you glance at him, expression showing disbelief that he’s somehow treating this matter lightly.

“What?”

“Do you honestly think I go around and offer marriage to every woman out there who can benefit from being a military spouse? Do you think I’m that generous? I’m not. I wouldn’t ask anyone to marry me for the same reason if they weren’t important to me—or if I didn’t like them. I’m not that much of a saint,” he adds. “I mean, I’m taking a two-week break to convince you to marry me. I’m spending time with you every single day. I’m driving for almost an hour and a half, enduring the traffic to get from my apartment to the university you work in to do that—and you think this is because I want to be charitable?”

Silence. Your forehead wrinkles. He thinks you’re still not getting the point.

“I’m in love with you, ____,” Jungkook says.

Your breath hitches in your throat. You’re opening your mouth, then closing it, then opening it again, then pressing it into a thin line. He thinks you look cute, being taken aback like this, and he’s wishing that he’s done this sooner so that the last five days of him chasing you around like a lost puppy was spent with talking more about what’s possibly waiting for yours and his relationship next.

“Are you serious?” you ask after what seems like forever. “Or are you just saying that because you’re that desperate to have me on board with the whole fraudulent marriage thing?”

“God—” He’s inching closer to you now, laughing, watching your lips twitch at his reaction— “I’m convinced that you were born into this earth to drive me fucking crazy.”

And just like that, he no longer restrains himself from kissing you.

It takes you a few good seconds before you will yourself to move. You can’t seem to process the reality of Jungkook admitting that he was in love with you and then taking the liberty to plant his lips on yours. You’re not complaining, of course, but you are a bit overwhelmed that it literally makes you freeze, unaware of what you’re supposed to do now that your fantasies are coming into life.

However, once you feel him angle his head to the side, doing so to deepen the kiss, your reflexes kick in and you’re kissing him back, encircling your arms around his neck and leaning towards him, Jungkook sighing in what appears to be relief. He grips your hips to support you as you try to straddle him, but your movements are so clumsy that you end up sprawling against his chest instead, perched on a leg of his that provides pleasure on the spot you need him the most. He chuckles at your lack of gracefulness, gliding his lips to your cheek and down to your jaw, nipping.

“This okay?” he whispers with a palm drifting to your bottom.

You nod and Jungkook’s mouth is back on yours in an instant. He squeezes your ass, takes his time in fondling with it, cheekily slapping whenever you get brave yourself and push your tongue past his lips, before he skims his hand lower to your thigh and signals for you to mount him. Upon being properly sat on his lap, you get an immediate feel of his hard length through his jeans, prompting your imagination to run wild and induce the filthiest things he can do to you if neither of you stops.

“Holy shit,” he curses, your kisses roaming to the base of his throat where you lap and suck.

It becomes a dirty pattern for a while. The both of you will take a brief pause from making out to remove a piece of clothing or kiss every other exposed skin there is: the cheek, the jaw, the neck, the collarbones, the shoulders. Then one of you hauls the other back for another passionate kiss, hands skating everywhere on your bodies, sounds of arousal echoing inside the room; you’re starting to get lightheaded but you’re positive it’s not because of your sugar levels running low.

“I hate that it took us so long to get to this point,” he mutters.

You grin. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I’m the man—I should have confessed long ago.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I don’t know. ‘Was afraid to lose you, I guess.” He draws his head back and admires your blissed out expression. “But then when Seowon told me you had diabetes, I panicked and thought that I might lose you either way.”

You go back to making out, Jungkook guiding your hips in grinding on his clothed length. It’s addictive—the intimate feel of him, how he’s not shy in making sure you know how much he’s craving to be as close to you as you are to him. You think you can spend the whole night just doing this and be okay with it.

“Fuck, Kook,” you groan against his mouth, a hand descending to his stomach and to his manhood, “you’re so… so fuckin’ hard.”

You’re palming him now, tracing the erection evident under his boxers.

He lets out a grunt. “Yeah, baby, I know.”

“Do you… do you want me—” You’re breathless, not able to continue whatever it is that you want to say.

He understands you just fine though. “No.” He shakes his head. “Don’t do anything.”

You’re not sure what Jungkook means by that. How are you supposed to do nothing when you want to do everything to him? You soon comprehend what he means when he guides you to lay down on the sofa, when his lips skim lower and lower, passing your breasts, giving them the attention they deserve, until he goes lower than that and discards your underwear, kissing you in between your legs.

It’s like he’s releasing all the pent up emotions he’s been keeping all these years. His tongue and fingers are relentless, his voice is telling you that he’s eager to coax an orgasm out of you, and as he lifts himself up to return to his previous position, face hovering yours, you’re positive that he’ll get everything he wants because without a doubt you’ll give him everything he wants from you too. Hell, if he uses this opportunity to ask you to marry him again, you might answer yes straight away, no longer bearing in mind the worries you expressed to him earlier.

Although did that even matter anymore? Jungkook said he loved you. He said you drove him crazy. You never thought you’d come to see the day he’d utter those words but here you are. The man of your dreams is kissing you, pleasing you, and looking damn enthusiastic as he does all of that.

“Last chance to stop me,” Jungkook teases. His eyes are glassy and you can feel his cock nudging on your thigh.

You giggle, bringing his head closer to press another long kiss on those pink and plump lips of his. “Please never stop.”

“Never?”

“Never.”

“I’m going to take you up on that.”

“Please do.”

After this night, you’re certain that you’ll never allow yourself to be with another man aside from Jungkook. At the back of your head, you always thought that you were his, regardless if that wasn’t true or that there was no real relationship to prove that—however, at this moment, as he thrusts in and out languidly, you unquestionably know that you’re his. You belong to him now and he belongs to you; he lets you know through his love-filled gaze, his passionate kisses, and the manner wherein he moans your name.

“I love you,” he says, like he’s still in deep longing for your touch and affection.

You hum, tangling your fingers through the strands of his hair. “I love you, Kook.” You stare at his eyes. “I can’t remember a time I didn’t.”

A boyish grin erupts on his features.

Time passes by quickly. In a few more of his kisses, of the intoxicating slam of his hips, of his seductive whimpers, you’re coming beneath him, Jungkook pulling out and jerking his length until he too comes, his seed landing on the base of your tummy. You have the nerve to giggle at that, grinning at him with low-lidded eyes, and Jungkook hastily wipes his cum off your skin, attacking you with another passionate kiss that leaves you breathless.

“There’s no way you’re not marrying me after this,” he murmurs.

You teasingly graze your teeth on his bottom lip. “I’ll think about it.”

He groans. “Don’t think about it. Just say yes.”

“At least let me sleep on it, Kook.”

“Fuck—fine.” He grabs your sides and pulls you flush against his body. “Guess I’ll have to keep on convincing you until you agree.”

****

“God, why is this so difficult?” Jungkook whines, keeping you in his embrace, head tucked between your cheek and shoulder.

The air is very humid and Jungkook’s in his naval aviator uniform, which doesn’t look cool in a sense that air is properly flowing through the material. He doesn’t care though, doesn’t care that it’s sticking to his skin as he refuses to let you go, not even when you complain playfully.

“Kook, I’m fucking sweaty.”

“I don’t care.”

You laugh. 

He’s leaving to return to his duty and you’re here with him outside the base before he enters, being with him until the last possible minute because that’s how much of a good wife you are.

Yes, you and Jungkook did get married. Three days ago in fact, at the city hall’s courtroom. Neither of you invited your parents; they didn’t know about the occasion and you refused to tell them, afraid that they may be critical about yours and his choices when they discover the true reason why you’re rushing to be wed. The only people that remained to be aware of it was Seowon and his girlfriend, Winnie, who served as the witnesses, which was fine by you. In your understanding, this was just for the papers and your health, and not the real deal yet to be celebrated lavishly.

“I’ll propose to you again after a couple of years,” Jungkook promised after the ceremony. “Let’s renew our vows and I’ll give you an amazing wedding.”

You would have told him that there was no need, but who were you kidding? You did want a proper wedding with Jungkook. The previous week didn’t even feel like you were newlyweds. Yes, the both of you compacted all of the dates you could have if one of you weren’t such a chicken in five days, and yes, though the honeymoon stage was experienced and practiced—it was only because you were a new couple who after years of hiding their feelings for one another, was now finally free to express it as much as they desired.

“Call me everyday?” you ask when he finally pulls back, Jungkook pecking your lips one more time.

“Definitely.” He smiles. “Visit me whenever possible?”

“Of course.” You kiss him too.

His smile transforms into a grin. “Take care of yourself, alright? Keep me updated all the time. No sugarcoating allowed.”

“Yes, Lieutenant.”

Rolling his eyes, he gives you another kiss and engulfs you in a tight hug, lifting you off the ground that causes you to giggle.

“Okay, pack it up, love birds!” Seowon shouts.

The two of you turn to your brother who’s leaning on his car, the vehicle that was used to transport the three of you today. You’re still in the middle of moving your belongings at Jungkook’s place and Seowon was kind enough to volunteer helping, always dubious that you could do stuff on your own. Despite your reluctance, you let him assist you, mostly because you’re trying to make a conscious effort in not upsetting him again.

Let’s just say that when the judge hailed you husband and wife at the civil wedding, Seowon wasn’t thrilled to see that the kiss shared between you and Jungkook wasn’t as fake as the supposed sham marriage, leading him to the conclusion that in the middle of Jungkook’s ruse of convincing you to be his wife, something must have happened that led to your approval and that rather 18+ rated kiss. Mostly though, he’s just offended that neither of you thought of telling him that you were an official couple before the wedding.

Jungkook unwillingly places you down.

“I think I need to go,” you say.

He nods with a sigh. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too.”

“Call you tomorrow?”

“Yes.” You affectionately caress his cheek, bringing his face down for the very very very last kiss. 

He leans into it. “Fuck, I don’t want to leave.”

“Seriously—hurry up!” Seowon shouts and you pull back.

“I will kill him,” you tell Jungkook.

“He’s your brother,” he says. “And now, my brother-in-law, so I can’t let you do that.”

“That might be your very first red flag, Jungkook, insinuating that you’re choosing my brother over me.” You cross your arms. “Tell me, if the both of us were drowning, would you save me or Seowon?”

“You,” he answers without missing a beat.

You narrow your eyes. “Is that the truth?”

“Of course. Seowon would probably undrown himself anyway and you’re shit at swimming. It’s an easy choice.”

You punch him hard on the shoulder and he feigns hurt, snickering. “For the record, I don’t think anyone can ‘undrown’ themselves—but fine, you pass the test.”

Jungkook faces Seowon’s direction and does a final salute, your brother returning it swiftly, and just like that, you and him share your last farewells. You watch as he goes through the entrance of the base and sends you a wave of goodbye; you weakly copy the gesture and stand there for a few seconds, just watching him fade from your view the further he trudges inside. You don’t think saying goodbye to him ever felt this heavy, and you blame it on the fact that after all this is the first time you’re saying goodbye to him with the assurance that he loves you too—and that alone weighs millions.

You spin on your heel and go to Seowon who’s already in the driver’s seat. As soon as you get in and wear your seat belt, he’s giving you a dirty look.

“What?” you ask.

“Please never do that in front of me again.”

His statement makes you smirk. “Why? Didn’t you want this?”

“Want what?”

“Me and Jungkook to be together.”

“When on earth did I say that?”

“You previously admitted that you were lowkey playing cupid by suggesting that Jungkook marry me for health insurance.”

A short pause. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I have to watch you two reenact a porno every fucking time.”

“We’re not—”

“You are. Don’t deny it.” He grumbles. “God, every time I see you two, it’s like I’m Ross from that one Friends episode where he accidentally sees Monica and Chandler doing it from the window of his apartment.”

“Yeah, I remember that.” You laugh. “In my defense, you haven’t seen me and Jungkook actually do the deed so—”

“Wait, so the two of you have?”

Your expression drops. His tone is approaching older brother protectiveness territory and you’re quick to attempt diffusing the situation. “I will not dive into that. All I’m going to say is that I’m a grown adult and so is Jungkook.”

He grimaces before starting the engine. “Yeah, never dive into that. I don’t need to hear the details.”

You share a laugh and then silence fills the car.

You press your lips together, looking at him while he backs out from the parking spot. “Hey, thanks, by the way. For driving today, and for offering to help me later, and maybe for also never minding your own business.”

You recall how Seowon was the one who couldn’t stop worrying about you and finding a solution when you told your family that you had type 1 diabetes. Your parents were concerned, they pestered you for months to force you to accept financial assistance from them, but they gave up soon after. Seowon though? He never did. He persisted through every outburst you had; he tolerated your bitchiness and your dirty looks all the time. Out of everyone in your life, you always felt like regardless of how stubborn and prideful you could be, Seowon was worse—in the best way possible.

A crooked smile illuminates his face. “You’re my kid sister. It’s my job to never let you experience peace in your whole life.”

You scoff. “Well, you’re damn great at what you do.”

When you reach Jungkook’s apartment, unloading the boxes and arranging your stuff to its designated places, your heart swells in happiness as the reality sinks in that your life is heading in the right direction after months of feeling hopeless. It drives you to be more thankful to the little things, to the people who were always by your side, to your previous circumstance that although wasn’t ideal was still manageable. A lot don’t get to have that kind of privilege and you promise yourself that you’ll make an effort to find more things to be grateful about from this day forward.

“Oh, I forgot to mention,” Seowon approaches in the middle of you arranging your books on Jungkook’s near to empty shelf, “Winnie wanted to give you this. She would have handed it over herself but she’s going to be busy for the next few days.”

You take the frame from his hand and see that it’s the picture Winnie took of you and Jungkook after the ceremony. It’s in the restaurant that you ate at to celebrate the civil wedding. Jungkook was grinning at you with an arm around on the backrest of your chair, you were leaning towards him, smiling at the camera—and the absolute selling point of why this was the best picture ever taken was because of how cake icing was scattered on your faces, places on spots in an artistic manner like it was planted there on purpose for the picture and not because the both of you were being silly that instance.

You think it showcases your relationship with Jungkook marvelously. It’s playful, it’s sweet, and most of all, it demonstrates how you two are clearly great friends.

“This is so beautiful, Seowon,” you say.

You immediately send Winnie a heartfelt thank you message for the gift and continue to take a photo of the frame, sending it to Jungkook as well.

Once you hit send, you type out a message to accompany it.

You: look how cute we look 🥹

You’re certain it’ll take hours before he replies so you keep your phone again, going back to staring at the picture which is now placed on one of the shelves. It’s the sole picture frame you have with Jungkook. In fact, it’s the only picture that Jungkook has in his apartment, and you like to think that this might be the mark of the new beginning you’ll have with him. Even though your relationship wouldn’t be traditionally explored given his occupation and how he’s most likely going to be away a lot, you don’t mind.

If there’s one thing you really believe in, it’s that waiting for Jungkook—whether consciously or unconsciously—always brings out the best outcomes.

thank you for reading! as i live for positive reinforcement, feedback is always appreciated ♡

This is Money Snake. She only appears every 312 years. 

If you reblog her picture within the next twenty-five seconds you will have good luck and fortune for the rest of your life. 

SOULMATE SPELL

the-witchyforest

What do you need:

A piece of paper

Pen (you can choose any color but red is better)

Red candle (you can use a white candle if you don't have a red one)

Empty bottle

Red thread or ribbon

What to do:

Don't think of a particular person, think about calling for someone in your life that you don't know.

Take the piece of paper and write a love letter to this person, write what do you want to say to this person and describe the type of person that you want in your life.

Roll up the piece of paper and knot it with the string, use your intentions and visualize them.

seal the scroll with the red wax.

Take the scroll and put it in the bottle, then seal it with other wax.

Take the bottle in a fast flowing current of water (like a tub or a sink) and let the intention flow with the water to your soulmate.

BACK TO DRAWING CUS AVATAR IS LIfe 😻

Mansk!

Hey everybody, so the votes are in and I'll be posting the pool fucking fic for bill today or tomorrow!!

Anyways pookies, look at my man while you wait 😍

Beautiful lady fr

Have you ever imagined Zhang with his hair down?

Made it safely 🤍🐰

Me when

So the 4k version of the movie came out. I made almost 13 GB of screenshots with Quaritch and Recoms. Watching the movie at a speed of 0.02 was fascinating, I spent a whole week… You can see all the screenshots at the link below link -https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1QgjjEFaoggAMKwsxTzVSh09VHBKh2OVj?usp=share_link

How cute are they

How I think the recoms act / how I’d portray them

Yeah so, I don’t know if I’m ever going to finish this but I may as well put some content out for y’all! Unedited, and I’m too tired to edit it at the moment.

Prager

Prager is commonly always tired, there is never a day this guy gets more than 5+ hours of sleep each night. Hell, sometimes he doesn’t even sleep depending on how busy the squad is during certain days. While struggling with the lack of sleep and one of the side effects being higher levels of anxiety, he’d be quite timid and on high alert whenever walking through the jungles of Pandora with his team. He tends to get on the team’s nerves with his frequent “what was that?” to the slightest noise then gets told to shut up, leaving him in silence making him one of the few team members that are quiet. Even though he looks like an ashamed puppy with his head hanging low because of every time he’s told to be quiet his eyes are always darting around everywhere, watching his surroundings and listening carefully with his new hearing ability in his new body. Whenever the Deja Blu team returns back to Bridgehead he’s the first to be found asleep and resting.

Zhang

Zhang isn’t afraid to speak his mind but he isn’t aggressive either, he’s quite collected but he’s easily annoyed when things are supposed to be quiet or in general. I feel like he really enjoys to read and spends half of his time reading over things on the holographic tablet for Quaritch, knowing he isn’t the best at operating it. He doesn’t let his emotions get ahold of him, he keeps a stern look all the time and even when he’s at bridgehead he’s still doing something to keep his mind busy. Sometimes Fike questions why he still decides to not nap or sleep but Zhang just ignores him.

Fike

Oh Fike, I love you but damn you get annoying like Wainfleet sometimes. Fike is like the little brother to the recoms, he’s always chatting or whispering, asking questions but he’s also loud if not being yelled at to shut up like Prager. Though unlike Prager he shows attitude and yells back, saying that they’re being loud too only to be scolded by Z-Dog or Zhang. (Quaritch is always ahead of his recom team to not listen to their bickeirng). Though while being the loudest and most chaotic he’s one of the recoms to hide most of the time during a battle, clutching his gun close to his chest as he unsteadily breathes in and out. Fike would never admit to it but he’s easily scared, he’s scared of dying again and losing his chance at living while also trying to get used to this new body he didn’t really want to be put into. The avatar program and RDA sort of were like “well, we already made your avatar so you have to use it.” and he’s been with it ever since.

Lopez

Lopez is quite calm and laid back, he’s very chill. Honestly he gives off chill uncle vibes where he’ll let a kid do whatever he wants but will still monitor what they’re doing, just to make sure they don’t get hurt. He’s an excellent cook (Mansk refers to Lopez as his personal taste tester)! When it comes to him growing concerned about someone he’ll usually check up on them, or sometimes he’ll pull the person away from others to have a private chat with them so that the person feels more comfortable in sharing. Personally, when he’s comforting I feel like he puts his hands on the person’s shoulders to let them know that he’s always there for them.

some sketches with recoms🔥

Lyle

Would be lying to say I am not a bit proud on this one, black and white is just TOO MUCH fun, feeling some improvement lately !

Mansk(recom) Characterisation

I have Mansk brainrot <3 here's my interpretation of him and some random things I want to point out. Some of it is canon :)

I will totally be adding more things to this as time goes by.

(This is a clusterfuck of thoughts, no order sorry. It's a mess. This has absolutely no structure)

HE IS NOT NEARLY APPRECIATED ENOUGH AS HE SHOULD BE

Masterlist

MANSK HAS AN AMERICAN EAGLE TATTOO ACROSS HIS CHEST (I think that's what it is, I'll make a separate post about it with sketches)

Just like the eagle Quaritch has except its wings are spread above his (massive, sexy) pecs.

Here is a random picture I found of the back of Mansk's head. <3

love him sm

The look of DISGUST he has when handling Tsireya (gorgeous queen).

(ew it's wet, quickly tie it down)

She's wet from the ocean and his hands must have gotten wet and he's all grossed out from the 'fish-lipped alien' and has to touch it.

Deffo thoroughly wanted to wash and disinfect his hands after.

The man HATES nature. I mean he despises it, on Earth too (whatever was left of it). That's why he is wearing the opposite of Walker's outfits. He's covered, head to toe. Expect for, well head. But everything else can't come in direct contact with nature on Pandora because to him it's scary and gross.

He hates native Na'vi too but once he becomes a recom, it dies down a little. Now, his hate for them is divided between blue forest Na'vi and the water Na'vi.

He still thinks of himself as human rather than Na'vi. I'm saying, when the man woke up from recom, he needed to be alone for the rest of the day while the others were discussing the mission. He just left the room and locked himself in his room, sitting in silence. He didn't want to look at himself in the mirror because it was too much. He just died and now he was back in the form of his enemy. The enemy terrified him because that's how he died in the first place.

While Lyle's first thought would be to pull down his pants and check out (yk) , Mansk would refuse to remove his clothes because he was worried he would lose it if he genuinely saw himself properly for the first time. I'm saying if the man saw all of himself in the first few days he would be so lost in himself and overwhelmed he would break down and cry. He seems like this intimidating tall man who has it all figured out but I'm telling you HE IS A SENSITIVE SOFTIE AND TAKES EVERYTHING TO HEART. He would avoid reflections, keep his head down and prefer not to directly look at his teammates because they were blue too. (Blue Na'vi racist kinda, but with PTSD)

He is quiet. Not shy quiet, just observing quiet. When he does speak he uses the least amount of words to express himself. Mansk is clever and when he says things they have been thought through by him. He never speaks before thinking. He's confident but doesn't express it. Basically the opposite of Lyle.

He likes wearing his shades because 1. they look dope 2. he isn't happy about being in a Na'vi body so he wants to seem as human as possible. Adding to that, his tail freaks him out. He wishes it weren't there. Sometimes he forgets it's a part of him now and it scares the shit out of him. His new body has him feeling really down because he knows that he can never return to Earth like this.

Grillmaster 100% without a doubt. I love that this fandom just decided that. It fits so well. Can't cook things like pasta or make soup. He can grill and fry shit. That's his thing. For properly baking something he will need luck on his side but it might work.

Another random thing. This man NEVER gets sick. I'm saying he's immune to it all. You're sick? Have the flu? Covid? It never gets him. He's safe with the immune system of a god.

He gets a sore jaw from constantly biting down and clenching it due to stress (just like me fr fr)

Adding to that, he almost always looks like he is in deep thought. He looks almost scary because he seems so intimidating. It's rare when he smiles.

THAT'S WHY THIS PICTURE IS SO PRECIOUS.

(Quoting Taylor Swift: Yeah, you got a smile that can light up this whole town) :0

YOU PRECIOUS MF COME HERE AND GET SOME LOVE! ISTG SO FUCKN CUTE I WANNA EHUEIJDNJKE AHHHHHH

He is the type of person that lays in bed for hours before falling asleep. Maybe because of some fucked up shit he has seen that stays in his head. He also refused to sleep on his back in his new body because of his tail and braid.

If there would be a skiing holiday, THIS MAN SNOWBOARDS. Quaritch would be the dad with skis and a large backpack.

He is super precious and soft. Will never want any of his teammate to know but if he finds someone he likes, he will be silently obsessed. Not in a creepy way, but he can't stop thinking about them. He doesn't fall for people easily but when he does HE FALLS HARD.

Mansk is self conscious so if he likes someone he will never act on it and never tell anyone. At night when he is alone, he would be going over all the reasons of why it wouldn't work out and why his crush doesn't like him or can't like him.

All he wants is to be cuddled, taken care of and kissed to sleep. Honestly, that's it. He wants to give everything he can to the person he cares about but will need constant reminders that they actually like him back and that he isn't just imagining it. If the person is gone for a few days, his bad thoughts will return and when they come back he will be distant and ask things like 'Sorry, I'm bothering you aren't I? You probably have lots to do.'

TO WHICH YOU HAVE TO TACKLE HIM INTO BED, WRAP HIM IN A BLANKET LIKE A BURRITO AND CUDDLE AND KISS HIM ISTG HE NEEDS LOVE BECAUSE HE HAS BEEN DEPRIVED OF IT HIS ENTIRE LIFE.

Leading to his fam, he joined the military because his dad did and so did his gradpa etc. It's a bloodline thing and because of that, he's never been loved properly and always treated as a soldier in making. He needs to be drowned in love.

SUPER NERVOUS around his crush. Sweating palms, stuttering, all that shit. He's down bad.

Here is him freaking out that they are under attack and yelling "NA'VI" in his super masculine deep ass husky voice✨️

More...

gorgeous fuckin precious bean

random: (lyle listens to taylor swift (shake it off while working out))

have a nice day :)

Tag list:

@drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed

Zdinarsk: Lyle—

Wainfleet, sighing: (Name) used to call me Lyle...

Zdinarsk: Of course they did, it's your first fucking name.

WOOOOOOWWWW THIS WAS SO AHHWKDXULW DCYWN got be like this: (dead)

Sweet Surrender

Pairing: Recombinant Miles Quaritch x Female Na'vi Reader

WARNINGS: dry humping, outdoor sex, loss of virginity, extremely dubious consent, manhandling, predator/prey, size difference, breeding kink, daddy kink, implied mating season, technically forced bonding?

A/N: pspspsps who's hungry for some filthy smut

××××××

The jungles of Pandora were an everlasting symphony of sound. Day and night, it persevered and thrived, humming beautifully with life, strumming a chord that all its native inhabitants were keenly in tune with. It was a song they had all grown up hearing, familiar like one's own shadow. It was unforgettable. Comforting. Any lack of it was almost unheard of, which marked today as strange. 

At some point during the day, the jungle had gone quiet—

Too quiet. 

Sensing a shift in the air, Y/N glanced up sharply from the stream she crouched beside, pausing in the middle of splashing cold water on her flushed face. The midday heat had felt particularly cloying that day, eventually compelling the young Na'vi woman to stop after spending the majority of the day scouring the jungle alone, foraging for fruits and herbs. Y/N didn’t mind the solitude that came with the task though; if anything, it was easier to concentrate without being distracted. 

Most of the other women in her clan preferred working in groups together, oftentimes for the company but also to help ease the workload. But the gossip. Great Mother, the uncensored, filthy GOSSIP. Y/N's innocent ears could only take so much! The additional heat that seemed to follow her like a persistent itch as of late had only licked at the flames of her aggravation, only made the others all the more unbearable to listen to, fawning over their mates like they were juicy pieces of meat. Ugh! The cheek, speaking like that so openly. They were lovely but they really had no shame sometimes.

Unlike the majority in her age group, Y/N didn’t have a mate. Not yet, at least. The other women had laughed at her flustered innocence, not unkindly, some even looking on in relatable sympathy. They told her she wouldn’t understand until she did. She hadn't stuck around long after that to listen to what else they had to say though, intent on saving her burning ears. Let them roll around in their nests with their mates if they wanted to. Y/N definitely didn't care. She was content having her own bed all to herself every night, completely alone. More room for her, thank you very much!

Although it wasn’t a habit she partook in excessively enough to be considered worrisome, Y/N was older and experienced enough now to know how to traverse the jungle alone without a parent hovering somewhere nearby to shadow her. Those years of being coddled and watched only lingered as fond memories now, shared between family and friends as cherished stories of the past.

Water dripped from her chin as her golden eyes scanned the quiet vicinity around her carefully, ears swiveling back and forth, absorbing the unsettling hush, the loud silence that seemed almost deafening. For a long moment, Y/N simply kept very quiet and very still, heart racing, every instinct ingrained in her screaming at her to get up and run. 

Yet one question still remained—

Run from what?

Other than the stifling heat and burgeoning silence, Y/N couldn’t detect anything else out of place in that moment. She wanted to brush it off as nothing after several minutes of careful observation produced nothing, but something still felt distinctly off. Y/N's instincts had rarely proved her wrong before. She just couldn’t shake off the feeling, the growing sense of unease, that something was about to take place. The jungle’s silence suddenly felt a lot more like a warning, like Eywa herself was holding her breath. Waiting.

It made Y/N feel like prey. 

A heartbeat later, and a decision was quickly made. Just as the muscles in Y/N’s striped legs tensed as she made to stand, something in the thick vegetation behind her rustled, shattering the piercing silence. Heavy footsteps soon registered in her ears, approaching her location, moving steadily through the underbrush, slowly closing in. The sudden noise startled the young Na’vi woman enough that she violently flinched back before recovering and swiftly turning, long dark hair swinging with the momentum. In her urgency to face whoever was approaching, she had to extend an arm on the ground to steady herself, lifting her tail up to keep herself balanced for good measure. 

Seconds that felt like an eternity passed as she waited, frozen in place — like something was holding her down with invisible hands, preventing her from moving — watching as the lush foliage eventually parted, giving way to a tall blue figure who's attention immediately zeroed in on her.

It was a stranger.

A man.

The moment Y/N's alarmed gaze fell on her uninvited visitor, she pressed her ears back and stiffened, flashing her fangs at him in warning as she warily studied him. He was big — handsome, a quiet part of her couldn't help but reluctantly note — dressed in alien clothing with black hair cropped strikingly short, towering over even the tallest Na'vi she knew in her clan. If she stood up straight herself, the top of her head would barely reach his shoulders. 

His golden eyes raked over her crouched figure, slowly drinking her in before he smirked, swaying his tail. Something dark lurked behind his heavy gaze, something very rapt and fixated. Hungry. It immediately set Y/N's teeth on edge. He reminded her of a palulukan in that moment, the way he was looking at her. The heat in her body only seemed to burn hotter the longer she remained pinned beneath his stare. He didn't look away from her once. She had his complete and undivided attention.

“Found you. You're a difficult one to track down, sweetheart.”

He didn't speak to her in Na'vi, which was immediately alarming. Y/N’s grasp of the English language was passable, but she had never truly cared about nurturing it enough to speak it fluently. Until now, she'd rarely had any reason to even speak it. The extra digit on both his hands only confirmed her suspicions though, warning her of the danger she was facing. The answers were all in plain sight right in front of her.

“Demon!” Y/N hissed in her tongue, glaring hatefully, moving her free hand to reach for the dagger at her hip before she internally berated herself when she realized that in her frustration to be on her own earlier, she’d absently shoved her weapon inside her satchel. Her satchel, which she could see lying traitorously on the ground, right next to him.

'Skxuwng!' she mentally cursed herself, lashing her tail in frustration, pinning her ears back. That wasn't good. Looking at the size of him, Y/N didn't trust her odds in that moment at all. If she risked grabbing for it, she knew there was a very high chance that he could just as easily reach out and grab her.

No — she would listen to her instincts this time and run like she should have. She just had to wait for the right window of opportunity to present itself first. Her hand on the ground clenched.

Y/N tensed when one of his arms lifted, but he only moved it to grip at a strap on his vest with a large hand, still smirking down at her, licking a sharp canine. “I could smell you, you know. Hours away and I could fucking smell you.” He lifted his head and inhaled deeply, nostrils flaring, scenting the air. He groaned audibly, his voice suddenly taking on a rougher edge. “What are you doing out here all alone, smelling so ripe, honey?” 

Confused and ignoring the odd clench behind her abdomen, Y/N pinned her ears back, unable to stop the purple blush that flamed her cheeks. What a rude man! Was he saying she smelled bad? She whipped her tail back and forth and hissed.

“Not welcome, demon! Go away! Go or I kill!" she spat at him in English, the accent heavy on her tongue. With her smaller stature and no weapon to protect her though, Y/N knew the threat ultimately meant nothing to him, especially when he had the audacity to chuckle at her — "You're a feisty one," he even went so far as to drawl — before his smirk suddenly vanished and he took a step towards her, moving closer, then closer, golden eyes dangerously intent.

"Don't be mean, honey. I've had to walk around this jungle with my dick hard for hours. Fucking hours. My blue balls have fucking blue balls, and I know that sweet scent of yours has something to do with it."

She watched in horror as he reached down and grabbed his crotch, lewdly squeezing the swollen bulge straining his pants, and Great Mother how had she not noticed that before?!

"You're done teasing me, sweetheart. You and me? We're gonna sort this problem out, right here and now. C'mere."

'NOW!' Y/N's instincts screamed at her, just as he bared his teeth and lunged.

She lifted her arm, the one she'd been using to steady herself against the ground. Swinging it back, she swiftly pitched it forward as she opened her hand, revealing a stone that she'd spotted on the ground earlier, kept carefully concealed, propelling it towards his head. He barely ducked his head in time to avoid it, the sharp edge just glancing at his temple, shallowly cutting it. He flinched and hissed reflexively, but Y/N didn’t stick around to see how he planned to retaliate, already on the move the moment she'd used those few precious seconds he was distracted by his small injury to run.

Turning around and leaping across the stream behind her, Y/N landed soundly, ignoring the terrifying cacophony of water splashing seconds behind her as she fled as fast as she could through the jungle, intent on squeezing underneath a narrow gap she could see in the distance ahead of her, sheltered below the body of a large, uprooted tree. If she could make it to the other side before he reached her, she was certain she would be able to shake him off her tail. The collapsed trunk was too high to scale over, and the gap would prove too thin for him to squeeze beneath without getting stuck, his broad frame putting him at a disadvantage. Y/N was luckily just small enough.

In the end though, it didn't really matter what she thought she would have been able to achieve, because it turned out that he was a lot faster than he looked. The sight of her fleeing form had only made his already swollen cock stiffen in his tight pants even more, igniting an inferno in him, inciting an animalistic urge to accept her unconscious challenge and chase.

She was seconds away from making it before it happened.

A thick arm wrapped around her waist from behind, hauling Y/N right off her feet. Air expelled from her lungs as she yelped loudly in shock and dismay, immediately beginning to struggle in his tight hold. It was like trying to displace a boulder though. He kept her in arm and stood in place, firm and immovable, barely budging as he pinned her squirming back against his chest, his other arm shortly following to join its partner when she began clawing and scratching at him, wrapping deftly around until he had her arms restrained as well, denying little movement.

And yet—

The demon barely hurt her in the ensuing scuffle. If anything, he seemed to deliberately go out of his way to avoid any possibility of that, even when her tail whipped against his side with a loud, stinging slap. His grip only stayed firm. Y/N wished that it was the opposite though, that he would snarl at her rather than tease, squeezing until his hands left behind dark imprints and bruises. His gentle handling only made it all the more humiliating when he finally subdued her. His large hand briefly stroked the thick braid protecting her kuru, considering it thoughtfully for a heart-stopping moment, before he unexpectedly chose to bypass holding it in favor of scruffing her by the back of her neck. Y/N nearly fell limp at the pressure.

“Easy, honey. Easy. There we go. Good girl. That's it. Just relax.”

He manhandled her to the ground gently, pressing her down into a soft bed of grass while she hissed and writhed, caged beneath him on her back, completely eclipsed by his massive size. Tangled together, he wrangled her hands in one of his thick paws, pinning them high above her head, the other still keeping her scruffed. Intimidated, a deep snarl ripped from her throat before it quickly dissolved into a high-pitched whine, the feeling of his fingers suddenly tangling in her hair, the gentle tugging at her roots, catching her pleasantly off-guard. Pulling her head back until her throat was exposed, he breathed hotly into the crook of her neck and groaned, completely intoxicated by the ambrosia of her mouthwatering scent, longing for a taste and unable to resist now that he finally had her. The last threads of his restraint snapped a heartbeat later, and he began raining a wet assault of open mouthed kisses up and down along her bare neck, marking the soft blue skin every time his mouth paused to grab sweet mouthfuls, harshly sucking.

Great Mother, Y/N was learning that she could make all sorts of strange new sounds, especially when he did that with his mouth. Her entire body felt like it was on fire. Every breath caught in her throat, torn between a whimper and a moan. Her core throbbed and ached. He was all over her, heavy and ravenous and sweltering. She felt like she could barely breathe.

So overwhelmed by these new sensations being thrown at her, Y/N barely gave it any thought when she unconsciously parted her legs as he lowered, settling his hips snugly between the apex of her thighs, the massive bulge tenting his pants pressing flatly against her veiled cunt, still guarded from sight by her loincloth. When he rubbed his clothed cock against her, she turned her head to the side and shut her eyes, burning beneath his penetrating gaze, biting her lip hard to stop a soft mewl from escaping her mouth at the unfamiliar stimulation, the first whispers of fiery pleasure beginning to lick at her, foreshadowing the rise of her downfall.

He moved his hips again and again, testing the power of his thrusts in that position as he slowly dry humped her, grunting audibly, studying her lovely star-glittered face and the micro-expressions that fluttered across it. She looked pained, like she hated what he was doing to her, but he knew better. Her eyes were clenched tightly shut, gasping loudly with each dry thrust, squirming weakly beneath his heavy weight, fiercely squeezing his sides with her thighs as her hands pulled weakly against the larger one still pinning hers. He chuckled lowly.

Oooh yeah, he knew better.

This pretty little blue forest nymph was meant for him. He knew that with a possessive, unshakable certainty the moment he'd first caught wind of her intoxicating scent. He'd slipped away from his own squad, scouring a dangerous jungle all alone for hours just to find her. Now that he had her in his clutches, he couldn't deny his body's urges any longer, the instinct that demanded he claim what was rightfully his. She'd fled from him and he'd caught her. He would have her complete submission now. There would be no more fighting either of their desires any longer. No more denying or delaying the inevitable. In a few moments, he would take her in that soft bed of grass because he knew she craved his seed just as much as he craved to pump her full of every single drop. His heavy balls ached readily at the thought of breeding her.

He couldn't wait.

Y/N couldn't stop the hiss of frustration that escaped through her teeth when his motions on top of her suddenly stopped. The constant friction against her clothed cunt had felt increasingly more pleasurable the longer he thrusted, especially when he rubbed against her clit, nearly tipping her over a dangerous precipice that promised a blissful end. Distantly registering the sounds of a belt unbuckling and clothes rustling, she opened her eyes and peeked up at him through her lashes, watching dazedly as he shifted over her, using the free hand that wasn't restraining both of hers to quickly shove his pants down his firm ass and thighs, stopping when they reached his knees, too impatient to remove them completely, unwilling to be parted from her warmth for long. Y/N was too shy to take in the appearance of his erect penis, but it wouldn't have mattered. He was sinking down against her again before she knew it, too close to allow her to see past their pressed torsos and chance a peek, almost as if he didn't want the sight of his cock to frighten her. All she could feel was the shocking firmness of it, its thick size and weight, the veiny ridges, every long inch throbbing hotly against her. Y/N shivered.

Apparently nothing was small when it came to this man — pardoning his slim waist.

He thrusted his bare cock against her guarded cunt, growling in delight at the raw friction, the foreskin at the head tugging each time he rolled his hips forward, dampening the material of her loincloth with leaking precum, his throbbing balls threatening to ruin the material completely if he didn't try to reign in some semblance of control soon. Y/N mewled as the burning flames of pleasure returned, climbing higher with each grinding thrust, better somehow now that his cock was freed. Her body shifted underneath his heavy weight, rocking with the forceful back and forth motions of his hips until he clenched his teeth and groaned loudly, forcing himself to stop.

"Fuck, I can't wait anymore. Need to fill you up, baby. You're gonna be so stuffed."

He panted in her ear loudly, kissing the cartilage wetly, the rumbling vibrations of his pleasure making her virgin walls clench and quiver for him with anticipation. Using his tail in a clever move to pull her loincloth out of the way, he stretched out completely on top of her, powerful thighs opening her wide for him, their voices harmonizing as they both gasped in unison, reveling in the pleasure of their naked groins finally touching for the first time. His free hand stroked reverently up the side of her torso, pausing at her thinly covered chest. Tracing the intricate vine-like patterns of her top, he cupped one of her breasts, rubbing his thumb over the hardened pebble of her barely concealed nipple, lingering there teasingly when she mewled before he eventually moved on, reaching above her, joining his other hand in pinning both of hers beside her head. 

His drooling cockhead nudged her slick folds curiously, testing her readiness. Driven by an all-consuming urge to breed her, he hadn't bothered using his fingers to prepare or tease her, but something assured Y/N — perhaps the very instinct she'd always trusted to lead her — that she would be fine, that it might hurt a little but she was more than ready, her body made for this. Nonetheless, she still couldn't help the nervous whine from escaping at the intimidating feeling of his thick cock's hungry prodding, understanding that the inevitable was only moments away from happening.

There was nowhere for her to run now.

With no free hands to guide his cock, he dipped his hips and rolled them forward, the glistening tip blindly hunting for her entrance. Her body shifted underneath his careful ministrations, moaning at the feeling of his stiffened length gliding between her slick folds, stimulating the swollen bud at the top with each glancing pass. 

Oh Great Mother. This was madness. Y/N knew that she should try to stop him before it was too late, but how could she when she didn't want him to stop?

The uncircumcised head of his penis dipped lower, continuing to poke and press around, searching and searching, until at last he jutted his hips forward at just the right angle, the pre-cum soaked tip finally notching as he felt something in the puffy folds of her cunt slightly give. With a deep, guttural snarl, he tightened his grip on her hands, pinning her fully down as he flexed his hips hard and pushed. 

Y/N jerked immediately, whining loudly at the ensuing burn that followed his first penetrating thrust, the walls of her untouched cunt reflexively squeezing around the uncomfortable stretch made by his forceful intrusion, struggling to accept his massive girth as she experienced the feeling of a cock breaking her in for the first time. The burning pinch only seemed to grow the more he burrowed his way in, but he didn't pause to allow her to adjust, not even for a second, no matter how much she pushed her hands against his grip and whimpered, too incapacitated by the silky walls of her tight cunt, perhaps, if the dazed look of pleasure on his face was any indication. 

“Shh, shhh. It’s alright, baby. Fuck. So tight. You're really strangling me, honey. You gotta relax a little. I know it's a lot, but you can take me. You'll see."

He talked a lot, although she couldn't deny that the sound of his deep voice was somehow comforting, helping her ride through the pain despite being the very one who caused it. He was also completely shameless and loud. It felt like ages before he finally stopped, his cock only halfway buried in, but to Y/N it felt like he'd already reached the end of her. She mewled uncomfortably at the full stretch, unable to help the quivering sigh that escaped her lips as he licked away a trailing tear, swaying his tail, cooing at the picture perfect image of her spread out beneath him.

"That's it. Let me in. Good girl. You're doing so well. We're almost there. Just lie still and feel me."

His golden eyes burned.

"All of me."

His mouth descended over hers, swallowing her piercing cry as he punched the last remaining half of his cock home, wriggling his hips against hers for good measure, not even sparing an inch, sighing into her mouth at the full completion of his claim. In no hurry to displace himself from her tight heat, the muscles of his firm backside clenched hard as he pressed himself impossibly close, squishing his plump ballsack against her upturned ass, the heavy load of cum inside brewing readily, as if sensing her womb's close proximity.

It felt like he was splitting her apart, carving a home inside just for him, stretching her cunt beyond its limit, pinning her down with no choice but to lie still and take everything he gave her.

She hated that she loved it.

He was insatiable, unable to get enough as he deepened their kiss, slipping his tongue inside. He explored the wet cavern of her mouth thoroughly, stroking her teeth and seducing her tongue, only withdrawing when they both finally needed to part for air, a string of saliva connecting their swollen lips. It must have really pleased him to see the dark blush on her face though, because it wasn't long before he was diving back down to lick into her mouth again, ravishing her with kiss after kiss until his stiff cock finally made its displeasure known, throbbing almost painfully at the lack of attention, begging him to move.

He pulled back to watch her face as he shifted his hips, barely pulling out of her tight heat before carefully rolling back in again, pressing his cock in deep, doing it again and again when he saw she could take it, gradually increasing his pace until a steady rhythm was established. Y/N cried out loudly — "ah, ah, ah!" — with each spearing thrust he gave as he contentedly fucked her like that for awhile, massaging her flexing walls with his stiff length, his firm buttocks constantly clenching and relaxing, fighting the urge to cum each time her silky walls strangled around his dick like a vice, trying to milk him for all his seed. Y/N wished he would let her hands go though, longing to touch him, needing more than just his heavy weight to keep her grounded in that moment, desperate as she felt the fire in her loins grow.

As if he sensed her thoughts, he suddenly released her hands, growling pleasantly when they immediately took advantage of their newfound freedom. Wrapping her arms around his clothed torso, Y/N clutched at his muscled back and vest tightly, crying out when he punched into her pulsating heat hard, planting his forearms beside her head.

“Fuck, I'm close. Never had pussy this good before. You ready for daddy's cum, sweetheart?" Y/N squealed loudly as the heavy tempo of his thrusts increased, the sound of their union squelching wetly in her burning ears. "Yeah, you are. You've been ready for it for days, haven't you? I know, baby. I know. I feel it too." He grunted loudly, punching another hard thrust into her, pressing her body deeper into the grass. "Don't you worry, honey. I'll fill you up real good. If we're lucky — ngh — it might even take.” 

He crashed into her like the sea, his breathing in her ear loud and ragged as his rhythm suddenly faltered, becoming rough and uneven. Surrendering completely to his pleasure, he vocalized on every thrust, ready for the finish, plunging wildly into her squelching heat, the stinging plap, plap, plap of his heavy balls slapping loudly against her upturned ass as he desperately chased his release. He wedged his arms beneath her shoulders, hugging her close while simultaneously caging her in, squeezing her tightly, pushing his straining cock in deeper, deeper, until he pushed firmly to the hilt one last time and—

“Oh f-fuck..! Fuuuck...!” 

He stilled above her and tensed, ears pinned back, clenching his teeth, looking incredibly pained for a moment before a tortured smile of pure relief suddenly spread across his flushed face. His stiff cock turned to steel inside her, throbbing menacingly, heavy balls drawing up tightly, visibly pulsing, the boiling cum inside rocketing out of the darkest depth of his loins as his pleasure finally boiled over and he erupted. The moan that ripped from his throat was loud, drawn out, and completely primal, lewd in such a way that it made her cheeks and ears absolutely burn. Y/N had never heard a man sound like that before, and certainly not because of her. His deep masculine grunts carried his satisfaction loudly into the air as he curled his body over hers, surrounding her completely, still thrusting, making her flexing walls quiver around him madly until she crested moments later, tumbling over the edge into her own mindless abyss. Y/N shattered in his arms, screaming silently, dragged under a searing current of ecstasy so strong it tore her vocal chords from her, rendering her completely voiceless as she surrendered, a willing hostage to her own release.

His burning seed coated her contracting walls in thick ropes, filling her abundantly with each heavy pump. Y/N gasped at the warm and full sensation, curling her tail around one of his muscled thighs as she tightly squeezed her arms around him, more than a little sensitive to his lazy rocking now. It felt like he was trying to reach the very end of her, tail jerking spasmodically behind him with each creamy expulsion of cum. Y/N whined at the sheer volume of his load, almost jealous that his orgasm seemed to drag on forever. She could still feel each heavy pulse filling her to the point of overflowing, acting almost like a balm as it soothed the burning heat inside her, dwindling her high into fading sparks.

Finally, with a soft moan which tapered off into a deep, rumbling sigh of pure contentment, he rolled to a stop on top of her, falling completely boneless as his heaving body finally came at rest, hips twitching helplessly with the lingering aftershocks. It was too much, Y/N’s overfilled and overstimulated core finally decided, desperate for a reprieve, especially now that she had to bear the entirety of his sated weight. He stuffed her completely that way — she swore she could even feel her stomach slightly bulge. She winced under him and mewled, hiding her face in his vest covered chest. He was sweating heavily beneath it.

“No more. Tired now. Pl-please…” 

Raising his head, he looked down and examined the dazed, fucked out look on her face, chuckling proudly, basking in the lazy satisfaction that came with the warm afterglow. Nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck, marred from his previous attentions, he inhaled her sweet scent reverently before he sighed, purring.

“Good girl. Good fucking girl. I knew you had it in you. Took daddy's cock so well. And what was all the fuss about?” 

She looked like she was just on the verge of scowling at him again when he unexpectedly nipped the side of her neck in reprimand — not to mention for also clipping his temple with a rock earlier — soothing the nicked skin with the flat of his tongue after when she jerked her head to get away from the sting, swatting her tail at him, though it lack any real heat behind it this time. He gently pressed his lips against hers a moment later, kissing her softly, appeasing her regardless.

She bore his weight for as long as she could while they both recovered from their individual highs, tangled closely together, the long minutes slowly passing, filled with quiet kisses and soothing touches while his cock almost reluctantly softened inside her. When he was certain he'd injected her with every last drop, he slowly peeled himself off of her, capturing her hips in his hands while he sat back on his knees, keeping her nice and still while he slowly eased his shining, flaccid cock out, patting her hip soothingly when she scrunched her blushing face up at the audible, wet pop. A thick stream of cum trickled out of her raw, beaten entrance following his departure, pooling heavily beneath her ass. He whistled appreciatively at the sight of her ruined cunt, thoroughly pleased with his work, tail curling in delight like a cat that got the cream.

And oh boy, did he ever get it.

“Fuck. I filled you up good, baby. Don’t you waste any more of that now. I saved all that cream just for you.”

As the wave of heat abated and some sense of clarity finally returned to her, Y/N's first instinct was to look away from him, stubbornly avoiding his heavy lidded gaze, hellbent on ignoring him and pouting now that he'd got what he'd wanted, because it didn't matter how amazing she'd discovered mating was, or how much she wouldn't mind doing this again with him later; her poor core burned in an entirely new way because of him, freshly ruined and raw, and she deserved a good sulk at least. Great Mother, she didn’t even know his name! He didn't even know HERS. She'd hissed and whined and made all other variations of unmentionable sounds at him more than she'd exchanged any full sentences with him. She had just let a complete stranger — a demon — mate with her.

Her parents were going to be furious. She unconsciously dug her nails into him at the thought.

A large hand suddenly grabbed her by her jaw, dragging Y/N from her anxious thoughts. He gently coaxed her eyes to look up and meet his, studying her closely, shifting his grip until his palm was tenderly cupping the entire side of her face. A thumb stroked the high arch of her blue cheekbone, rubbing back and forth. He looked like he was thinking very deeply about something. It probably wasn't a good thing; nevertheless, Y/N couldn't help but lean into the affectionate touch. For a long time he was silent, just watching her while she watched him. Then, he smiled.

“You know, there's something I've been wanting to try for a while now. Heard it's all the rage with you Na'vi. Never had an opportunity until now though. Heh. I guess meeting you must have been fate.” 

Words, words, words. So many strange English words! All Y/N could gather was that he wanted to do something else with her now. Something that sounded serious. Her ears pressed back unsurely, but she couldn't deny her curiosity. There were a lot of things she couldn't deny now, no matter how hard she tried to bury it. Her lack of action against him now spoke volumes, and she knew it. He knew it.

His hand on her face drifted past it to touch her hair, stroking the dark locks softly, carefully, slowly inching lower until her braid was suddenly snaking over her shoulder, locked in his grasp, his true intentions unveiling when he used his other hand to collect his own braid, holding their kurus between them. In an instant Y/N froze, watching him carefully, an emotional maelstrom waging a war within her as she fought herself for a moment. He stared back at her all the while, waiting patiently, smiling almost knowingly when she ultimately did nothing to stop him. In the end, she just decided to lie still and wait quietly. A sweet surrender.

"Call me Miles, sweetheart. Or daddy. Either works just fine."

He slowly brought their kurus closer together, the pinkish tendrils at the ends yearningly reaching for each other.

“Aren’t you lucky that you’re mine.” 

Together, the two of them watched with bated breaths as the tendrils slowly intertwined, coiling around each other, becoming one—

Binding them forever.

××××××

The End...?