#ALSO OBSESSED WITH THE FACT THAT THIS APPARENTLY HAPPENS THE SAME DAY AS THOSE LAST STILLS WITH AUGUST???????

[stormyoceans]

IF THEY REALLY GIVE US THE MARATHON SCENE WITH MORK BEING A GUIDE RUNNER FOR DAY Y'ALL ARE GONNA HAVE TO COME VISIT ME IN THE PSYCH WARD

[f1byjessie]

A PICTURE IS WORTH A THOUSAND WORDS ━━ LN4.

sometimes the right words are hard to come across, and sometimes everything you need to say can be captured in an image.

( lando norris x photographer!reader )

━━ part nine.

INSTAGRAM.

liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, and 714,148 others

tagged: yourusername

mclaren As we get closer and closer to the start of the 2024 season, we thought we’d take the time to introduce new fans to the team that works behind the scenes! Starting us off, we have Y/N L/N, our personal paddock photographer! Y/N has been here with us at McLaren since 2019, and is the genius mind behind many of the photos we’ve posted throughout the years. She’s an important part of our community and helps tremendously in not only capturing our drivers in action, but also in getting the other behind the scenes members of our team the recognition they deserve. We’re glad to have her back here with us in Bahrain, and we can’t wait to see what beautiful concoctions she comes up with this year! 🧡

view all 9,147 comments

user if there is 100 y/n fans, i am one of them. if there is one y/n fan, it is me. if there are no y/n fans, i have died.

user love love LOVE that mclaren takes the time to recognize the hard work of everyone who supports the drivers

↳ user i feel like f1 promotes the racers, team principals, and pit crew so much and forgets about everyone else that makes sure these teams are able to function so seamlessly

user CAN WE GET A MEET THE ADMIN POST TOO??? 👀👀👀

user i bumped into y/n back in silverstone 2021, like literally bumped into her, and she was so sweet!!

user she’s my photography inspo 🤩

user her dedication to the mclaren team is so apparent when you think about the fact that she DOESN’T get the same recognition as the drivers, but she has chosen to work for them for what will be 6 years as of this season. she could have easily move to a different formula 1 team or even another sport entirely, but she still comes back and that’s a dedicated artist

↳ user the fact that she did a little stint over at manchester city fc and STILL chose to come back to mclaren even tho i imagine f1 has a much harsher and stricter schedule with the intercontinental travel than football does

user this is who we have to thank for all those beautiful shots of lando??? cuz if so, bless her omg 🙏🙏🙏

user in this household we appreciate the crew that works tirelessly to keep us entertained

user so tired of seeing ppl disregard her skill as a photographer just bc of who she’s dating

↳ user OMG SAME

yourusername glad to be here, can’t wait to travel the world with these amazing people 🧡

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tagged: mclaren

yourusername locked in and ready 😎

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oscarpiastri so glad you’ve gotten over your temporary obsession with blue 😁

↳ yourusername so glad you haven’t lost your ability to get on my last nerve 😁

↳ oscarpiastri so glad you’re still insufferable even on your best days 😁

↳ yourusername now that’s a comeback i can be proud of 🥹

user MISSED THESE LADS OH MY DAYS

user ONE DAY UNTIL TESTING GUYS

user oscar looking fine asf these days 😩 that winter break treated him well

mclaren The boys are back in town!

↳ yourusername dare i say my milkshake brought them to the yard?

↳ mclaren It certainly called us 😍

↳ yourusername you flatter me mclaren admin 😌

↳ mclaren Only the best for our best 😘

user that’s some pretty intense eye contact from lando in the last image…

↳ user he ain’t even looking at the camera

↳ user nah bruv is def looking at y/n 👀👀

↳ user I NEED THEM TO GET OVER WHATEVER HAPPENED AND GO BACK TO BEING FRIENDS CUZ I MISS THE BANTER IN THE COMMENTS

↳ user i think we should probably respect their privacy and understand that something happened (presumably in the off season) that we weren’t privy to. so long as they can both maintain professionalism around one another, they don’t have to do or “get over” anything. does it suck to see two very close friends no longer get along in the way they used to? absolutely. but we don’t know what happened or if anything even did happen. in the event that something did, we don’t know who’s involved or who, if anyone, is at fault. they’re both justified in choosing to end a friendship due to a falling out, or even if they just grew distant. but even as i say all of this, it’s still speculation.

↳ user we don’t actually know if they aren’t friends any longer or if they’ve just moved their friendship off of online platforms. it should be noted that y/n is very publicly dating someone, and idk about you, but i know firsthand how delusional fans can be. her bf’s fans could easily attack her over banter with another man, and lando’s fans could just as easily start reading into that same banter which runs the very real possibility of putting all three of them in an awkward situation where y/n is being shipped with a man that ISN’T her bf.

↳ user what about the banter she has with the mclaren admin? 🤔

↳ user context is super important here. the flirting between y/n and the mclaren admin is very obviously fake. it has been from the beginning, and when ppl “ship” the two of them together it’s for the bit and to play along with their fake bromance. lando and y/n have both been legitimately shipped together since they both started working with mclaren, which changes the undertone of the shipping comments bc ppl often genuinely misconstrue their banter as REAL flirting.

user why do comment sections related to y/n always turn into debate sessions

↳ user REAL like ain’t no way i’m reading all that

user oscar’s hair sticking up in every picture is my roman empire

user I’VE BEEN MISSING THE ORANGE I’M SO GLAD IT’S BACK 🧡🧡🧡

user wait i didn’t even realize until now that this is the first post in like a month that’s actually had public comments turned on

↳ user probably bc her bf’s loser fans have finally stopped harassing her

jackgrealish must be nice having all that sun 😒

↳ yourusername it really is, bet you’re jealous

Testing goes fine, until it doesn’t.

“A drain cover?” Lando’s voice echoes across the garage. “Another fucking drain cover?”

You purse your lips.

Yesterday, he’d been upset on Oscar’s behalf when they’d cancelled the remainder of the morning session after only a couple hours to solve the problem of the track’s dislodged pieces. He’d complained and cussed out the incompetence, and then reassured Oscar that things would be better for the third day.

But the third day is here now, and he’s even more upset now being told to pit after a measly thirty minutes for the same issue.

“This is the second fucking time━” he cuts himself off with an angry huff and runs his hands roughly through the curls of his hair, letting his fingers catch on the tangles and yanking through them in his frustration. Sweat glistens on his furrowed brow. His cheeks are still flushed from the heat of the car.

It’s the most emotion you’ve seen from him since you’ve come back.

The time you’ve already spent in Bahrain has been stilted at best. Lando continues to stick with his attempts at avoiding you, but it’s harder to do so here when your hotel rooms are on the same floor and you’re limited to the confines of the garage for most of the day. Even when he isn’t in the car, there’s not a lot to do wandering around the paddock and even if there was they’ve encouraged him to stay where he can easily be reached.

You’re trying not to be smug about it, but every time you glance over your shoulder and catch him watching you━ catch him quickly looking away when your eyes meet and he realizes he’s been caught━ you feel pleased.

If there’s one thing you’ve learned about Lando, it’s that he’s always got a limit.

If you wait long enough, stand your ground and prove that you really have no intentions whatsoever of giving in and breaking the ice between the two of you, eventually he’ll cave. When he realizes he won’t get what he wants, that he’ll have to actually put in the effort to repair what he’s broken rather than having it magically fix itself, he’ll have no other choice but to do so.

“They might not cancel the session,” Oscar chimes in, attempting to placate his aggravated teammate. “Since they already had to yesterday, I doubt they’ll do it again today.”

Unfortunately, that doesn’t actually calm Lando down at all. If anything, it just reminds him again of the fact that this is the second time this same complication has happened which has him huffing angrily again and running his hands through his tangled curls even rougher.

You wince at that.

Andrea, McLaren’s team principal, steps forward. “Take a breath,” he orders, resting a heavy hand on Lando’s shoulder. “Go walk a lap around the garage or something, whatever, but I need you to calm down.”

You’re prepared for that to be the end of it, but then Andrea looks over and catches your eye. “Y/N,” he says, nodding his head towards Lando. “You go with him. Keep him out of trouble.”

Well.

You like to think you do a much better job at keeping your emotions off of your face than Lando, which isn’t hard when his features scrunch up into a pained scowl at Andrea’s words, but you can feel the pinch of your own eyebrows furrowing and the smile you send towards the team principal probably looks more like a grimace if Oscar pursed lips in your peripherals is anything to go by.

Lando storms out and you follow reluctantly after him.

He can’t really go very far, not if he wants to be within a reasonable distance when━ if━ they call him back to continue the morning testing session. So he paces back and forth and back and forth just outside the garage’s exit out into the paddock.

Your phone tells you that ten minutes pass like this. It’s the longest you’ve been alone with him in a while and his distraction lets you focus on the finer details that you’ve missed when he’s going out of his way to avoid you.

There are deep, dark, bruise-like circles that hang heavily beneath his eyes. His skin is sun-kissed and tanned from his time out catching rays during his travels, but there’s a pale pallor beneath the added color that makes him look sick. Despite his current anger and the tension coiled in his muscles just waiting to lash out and strike, his shoulders seem to droop beneath the invisible weight of whatever he’s carrying with him.

He looks small.

Lando’s always been on the shorter side, but he’s never before looked small. Not like this. Never like this.

The longer you watch, the more the back and forth pacing starts to transform into the anxious stride of a cornered animal.

You aren’t arrogant enough to assume he’s like this because of you entirely, but it does occur to you that maybe he’s having just as rough of a time as you are with the newfound distance between yourselves.

You watch him silently, for a little while longer, observing the way his stride hitches every few steps and he just barely manages to stop himself from stumbling over his own feet. He’s still running his hands through his hair. By the seventh time he practically claws his fingers through his curls you heave a sigh.

“Quit that,” you snap.

“Quit what?” He fires back with just as much bite.

You roll your eyes. “You’re gonna rip your hair out if you keep pulling on it like that.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” he stops in his tracks and turns on his heel to face you with a sneer. His words drip with sarcasm. “I forgot you must be used to Grealish now, right? And I bet he’s got at least a ten-step hair care routine. I wonder, does he use unicorn sweat and essence of rainbow to keep it that smooth and bright? There’s no other possible way!”

“You’re being an asshole, Lando.”

“My sincerest apologies,” he says. “How could I ever think Grealish would use unicorn sweat of all things? He uses pixies tears, my mistake.”

You’re not sure how a few words managed to turn into this━ you’d just wanted him to stop pulling at his hair. It looked painful and he’s always been a bit tender headed. Now, instead, you can feel the anger bubbling up inside you and it seems like Lando’s frustrations about the testing delay, and your friendship with Jack apparently, have made things worse.

Like throwing gasoline onto a flame.

You scowl, “Seriously. You’re being a fucking prick.”

He throws his arms up into the air, “Why not just run off to Grealish then? Since he seems to be your new best friend and you tell him everything.”

If your life were a movie, this is the moment in time when the stars would align and fate would force everything to position itself perfect in place. Like the pieces of a puzzle, it would all work out and you’d calmly explain to Lando what happened back in January with Garrett and Manchester City, and he’d understand immediately and apologize, and you’d hug it out and then both return to the garage just in time for them to announce the testing session would re-commence.

But your life isn’t a movie, and reality feels significantly different to the scripted perfection of fiction.

The precarious security of the perch you’ve settled yourself upon comes crashing down, and the tentative balance you’ve managed to maintain since the start of February when you were back in papaya again shatters with it. Something inside you snaps. The dam has burst and everything held back comes rushing to the front like a torrential wave.

“At least he was there for me when some prick blackmailed me into a relationship at the threat of my livelihood,” you snarl.

Lando pauses for a moment. He makes a couple different faces before settling on a mix between pissed off and confused, and his arms cross over his chest. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I didn’t want to be in a relationship with Garrett Ward, Lando!” You exclaim. “He threatened that if I didn’t pretend to be his girlfriend, he’d fake some misconduct rumor and ruin my career and I was too afraid to say no because this is all I have!”

This isn’t how you’d wanted it all to go down. You’d always imagined you’d get the satisfaction of an apology, and that Lando would get drunk on cheap wine with you like old times, and you’d explain what all happened with the confidence of being a little tipsy and you wouldn’t feel ashamed because Lando’s your best friend and he’d reassure you that you did what you had to, and then you’d listen to him shit talk Garrett for the rest of the night. In the morning, he’d have some idea of how to fix it all without ruining your career, and then you’d be able to put it all behind you and go back to how things were before the winter off-season ever started.

This is far from that, but there’s a sense of relief that comes nonetheless from getting it all off your chest to Lando━ to the person you’ve wanted to talk to from the very beginning

You feel tears burning your eyes, blurring your vision. “I can barely pay my rent as is, and I’m only actually living there for a few dumb months out of the year anyway. Do you know how much worse it would be if I got kicked from McLaren too? Nobody else in the country would hire me if he followed through with what he was threatening.”

“Well,” Lando shrugs his shoulders, looking properly chastised. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I fucking tried, you muppet!” You throw your arms up in exasperation and then wipe at your eyes in frustration when the tears start to roll down your cheeks. “I called you every day for a week and you ignored me! I sent you text after text after fucking text━” your voice breaks, “━and you didn’t even read them! Did you know I locked myself in the bathroom and cried every single day I had to work there?”

You glare at him.

“The only thing that made it better was Jack fucking Grealish coming into my office and telling me I could at least go to him if I ever needed anything,” you snap. “So fuck off with this whole holier than thou bullshit. You left me, and Jack took your place because I was drowning!”

“Y/N…”

Crying hadn’t been a part of your plan, but the tears won’t stop now that they’re going. It’s embarrassing. You’re already worried about just how many people heard you shouting, and now you’re even more worried about someone coming back to look for you both and finding you sobbing your eyes out.

“I’m sorry━”

Lando’s arms wrap around you, warm and strong and sure.

━━ tags: @maih23 @urfavnoirette @leclercsluv @f1luvur @formulaal @a-disturbing-self-reflection @starlightpierre @chezmardybum @marshmummy @405rry @sideboobrry11 @d3kstar @mcmuppet @happylittlereader @casperlikej @5starl1ght @bellezaycafe @whentheautumnleavesfall @mess-is-my-aesthetic @ssprayberrythings @landosgirlxoxo @lifelessfan @81ja @wcnorris @a-disturbing-self-reflection (CLOSED).

━━ a/n: and there we have it folks. lando is finally back in the picture! this part was a lot of fun to write, because i've been waiting for this moment since the initial fallout in the beginning. on that note, i finished getting it all whipped up this morning while watching the qualis, so if there are any mistakes that i haven't caught that's why. i was a bit distracted, so please pretend they aren't there haha!

[alicerosejensen]

Warning: unhealthy relationship; Dark; not a yandere Leon but almost; the reader has no family and friends; Rescuer syndrome (if you look really closely at the very beginning); mentions of alcohol; Dom!Leon; fem/reader; Older!Leon; Mentions of pregnancy;

Summary: He will love you until his death. You are his and no one else's.

A/N: English is not my native language, so I apologize for any mistakes. Also I don't approve of this crap in real life and if it triggers you, please look at the warning again and skip it. Just because I write doesn't mean it's cool in real life. Build only healthy relationships based on mutual love, trust, compromises without violence.

If you look closely, neither of you two were healthy enough to build a relationship.

Of course you're not a pet. Even if you is devoted to him like a dog whose owner is drowning on the Titanic, and Leon has long been sinking. Of course, he does not consider you an animal and he is sincerely sorry that because of your injuries you cling to him, and he, in turn, succumbs to the selfish desire to keep his girl close to him.

You were so young and alone that, apparently due to your childhood traumas, you sought love from someone who tried to cope with his traumas with the help of alcohol. Leon didn't think he should have touched you at all. In his opinion, everything he touches turns to shit, and he didn't mean to hurt you at all. Besides, he believed that seducing such a young girl, even if you are of age, is almost a crime, however, he could not stop being drawn to you. My God, he’s already turning 40 and you’re a little over 20. Do girls your age hang out with such old men? You should find a young guy with whom you can do all sorts of stupid things while being on the same wavelength, and not cling to his back like a lost child. But in general, it’s not really a fact, but just an observation, but lonely people often have pets to while away their unbearable loneliness. Leon does not have the opportunity to get a dog or a cat, his job means that he spends little time at home, but...

At night, you sleep soundly, throwing your leg over him and reaching out with your arms to hug him. Leon catches himself thinking that he likes to listen to measured breathing and feel the soft skin on his body. His sweet girl... in your sleep you feel how other people's fingers are drawing patterns on your back and you fucking like it. Don’t care about studying, which can open the door to the world of a good career with a decent salary, love into which you dive headfirst is the most beautiful thing that has happened in your life.

And you are ready to hold on to him until the last... Well, actually, just like he does to you.

It’s deep night outside, the bedroom is in wireless darkness, which Leon is so afraid of because of painful memories, but why is he calm now when you’re sleeping so quietly next to him.

"Bunny?" Leon rarely calls you that, but those cute pajamas of yours with the bunny ears on the tank top make him smile, kissing your forehead because your sleep, unlike him, is quite sound.

In fact, he feels like a son of a bitch who sleeps with a girl half his age and, to Leon’s own horror, it’s not even lust. He himself doesn’t fully understand what kind of crap is happening to him, but the point is that he really feels for you... high feelings. At least every day it becomes more and more difficult to let you out of his arms.

But you're sleeping. An absolute angel and Leon wonders if he can mistake your compassion for love? Or do you just have daddy issues? Thinking about this, Leon grins, burying his nose in your hair. He has his faithful “Matilda” in his bedside table, and, in theory, he has nothing to fear, but he is unlikely to be able to live with such crap as before 1998. You planted an obsession for him, gradually nurturing and strengthening it, like a caring gardener painstakingly working on his favorite flower. You yourself cling to him, adjoining him, you are even ready to give up all prospects for your future life for the sake of him alone.

Leon kisses you and strokes your cheek with his thumb, pressing you to his chest, finally closing his eyes and falling into sleep.

Actually, Leon thinks that it’s all your fault. Who if not you?! It’s like you’re deliberately making him worry by putting the phone on silent or calling him back too late, which is why he gradually seems to lose his mind if he can’t be sure that everything is okay. He screams and you cry and apologize to him because you are afraid that he will leave you alone. This is your biggest fear, even if Leon had nothing like that in his thoughts. For heaven's sake, he really hates your tears and he hates feeling guilty about it even more.

"Just don't make me worry anymore" He asks in a soothing tone, pressing your trembling body to him.

And you nod your head, feeling how painful your stomach is from the stress you have experienced and your conflict with him.

"I'll never again...I swear"

You are a stone on his neck, which he in theory can throw off but does not want to. What's going on with you two is clearly not normal. This is immediately noticed by Claire watching how you loyally sit next to him and seem to be interested in nothing but Leon. Seriously, of course, few people from her inner circle like a secular reception, but Claire really thinks it's very strange.

"She's…" Redfield notices your discomfort when Leon walks away to talk to her. However, he himself constantly turns around to look after you while you are nervously sitting at a table with a half-empty glass looking at him with deer eyes. "How old is she? In my opinion, you don't really look like a guy who…indulging in young girls"

Leon squints into Claire's eyes. In truth, part of him realizes that she is saying a clever thought and the other begins to howl unbearably, because you are really the nicest thing that has happened in the last years of his life. So why the hell should he constantly give up his human happiness just because it allegedly does not fit into the worldview of other people?!

"I'm not keeping her forcibly next to me," he replied rudely, and Claire shuddered at the unusual cold tone, "She can leave if she wants to, but she doesn't want to."

Well, who will look after you if even all your loved ones have abandoned you?

The Redfields look disapproving, and when Leon returns to the table in a bad mood, they both see you clinging to his hand, anxiously flapping your eyes, calming down only when he quickly kisses you on the cheek and runs his palm over your back. However, Leon has never really hurt you. After a while, Claire even gets used to this abnormal connection between her friend and his young girlfriend, only rolls her eyes when she sees that Leon constantly sends you messages, checking how well you took care of yourself while he was away.

"She has problems with dad" is a fair conclusion, which Leon deliberately ignored, without commenting on it in any way.

And it wasn't even untrue. With Leon's help, you unconsciously compensated for what you were not given as a child, in turn, Leon himself treated himself with your presence. Because he knows for sure that when he wakes up, you will be next to him in bed, and you will not run away while he sleeps, leaving a paper airplane with traces of scarlet lipstick on his lips and a short signature "See you later", along with the fading scent of perfume in the room. He doesn't need to worry about where you are in the evening, because you are either in the living room watching TV, or in the bedroom, or in the kitchen. No matter what you are doing, the main thing is in his field of vision. If he need to call out to you, then you will respond, and this is the most important thing for him - to know that you are always in close proximity to him.

With each passing year, his control grows, building strict rules.

There is no point in listing them, and Leon knows that you would not violate anything even if you knew nothing about them. Mostly it was just for peace of mind. You walk only with him, don’t lift weights, communicate with strangers to a minimum and... yes, you don’t go to college anymore, because he doesn’t always have time to pick you up from there after classes, well, you can’t say that you were completely against it . There were already enough missed classes for this to become a problem. Anyone's problem but not yours, because...

“I will support you perfectly. My credit card is at your disposal, buy whatever you want or wait for me, sweetheart"

You weren’t a shopaholic, but sometimes you indulged in expensive purchases. Leon never objected.

They took care of you, you didn’t have to study or work, you could sleep until lunchtime, the only important thing was to remain an obedient girl for your Leon, who was too fixated on you. No normal person would consider what was happening to be normal, when you literally cannot leave the house without someone else’s permission. Should you walk to the store for groceries or just a short jog in the morning? Strictly prohibited! Of course you can with Leon, because in his opinion he is a guarantee that everything will be fine with you as long as he is around. You won’t be attacked by some crazy person or a rabid dog, he will carefully check the expiration date on the packages so that his bunny doesn’t get poisoned and other little things that were completely absurd.

It’s remarkable that you were an obedient girl, because your subconscious said that if you make even the slightest mistake, the retribution would be terrible, only the fear was not because of physical violence (no, he doesn’t beat you at all) but because you were afraid that Leon would find yourself another girlfriend, leaving you to choke on your own love or even kill yourself.

Although Leon didn’t threaten to break up with you at all. All lovers quarrel, but you were literally shaking with fear that everything would end, as if the sky would fall to the ground or the sun would stop shining, destroying all living things. No, of course Leon wouldn’t leave you, because his love is no less sick than yours. So his fear is that you'll probably realize he's too old for you, as Claire tells him, and leave for a younger guy. Leon simply cannot tolerate this shit, so he locks you in his house. And still you don't mind.

Leon knows everything his angel likes, from food to your favorite color, which can change depending on your mood. Unlike you, he himself was quite secretive, but you knew well some of his preferences and how to behave when his self-esteem fell through the roof after yet another death at work. Sometimes it was necessary to sit quietly in the next room, but more often just sit on his lap, stroke his head and kiss him. Kiss a lot.

And yet Leon was afraid that you would find a replacement for him.

Therefore, it was necessary to tie you to him so that no one could ever take you away from him. And the only option that Leon saw was to become a father.

“Are you serious?! Damn it, what’s happening to you?! Did she really so calmly agree to conceive a child with you?!”

For God's sake, the way Claire screams makes Leon's ears pop. In fact, only he planned, with only one goal to make you stay with him and fulfill his old dream of a family. But he will say that this was discussed with you and, in fact, you and he even managed to argue about names and what color you would decorate the nursery, which of course was not true, but Claire and others don’t need to know about it.

Leon didn’t even bring up this topic of conversation with you, he just pierced a few with a condoms and, fortunately for him, the result did not take long to arrive. With the first signs, Leon immediately knew that the pregnancy tests would show a positive result and yet he takes care of you when vomit turns your stomach. Like a caring daddy who collects your hair at the back of your head while you spew out everything you’ve eaten and strokes your back, supporting you. A warm blanket, a dim light, a pat on your stomach? It's all for you, baby, and for this little pea inside of you. Leon suppresses a grin, believing that his plan has worked... which is really the case.

"Oh, sweetheart, I hope it's tears of joy, because you don't have a single reason to cry anymore," Leon says when he looks at you crying sitting on the toilet lid, hugging his shoulder, and a positive test is lying on the floor next to you.

Complete shit, but you were crying literally because you were afraid that he would definitely leave now. Fortunately, luck, as you naively believed, has not left you.

Leon did everything to ensure that his little American dream and family were safe under his complete control. Firstly, he immediately said that his child needed more space, although the apartment was spacious enough and the three of them could live here in peace, especially since there was a park nearby, but Leon needed a house. The one that no one will stick their nose into, although in fact, despite the quarrel with Claire and the others, he is thinking of inviting them to the birth of a child. And he's not going to completely isolate you from others. Courses for young mothers, the same walks with a stroller near the house, it was necessary, especially since the baby and mom need fresh air.

You are required to obey and strictly follow all the doctor's recommendations as before. Of course, Leon takes you to all prenatal appointments to make sure that everything is fine, it gives him an unprecedented delight to be next to you at the first ultrasound. Damn, baby, you have to give him a girl! Although he wasn't against the boy.

It is noteworthy that you have never said a word against. After all, everything was fine with you: huge care, a new big house with a small extension for a playground in the backyard, which hinted at the obvious fact that this is your first child with Leon, but not the last. However, how much love he gives you while you are pregnant compensates for all the ailments!

And when you finally give birth, Leon, of course, next to you meets his sweet girl, whose fate, as he thinks, can only be envied. At least now you won’t leave him anywhere, but will forever remain with you and next to you, cherishing your little girl whom he is going to spoil just like her mommy. Leon will put the crib next to the bed, make a new schedule and take a million photos of his happy family.

He adores you and that's all you need. In the end, Leon even admits to himself that he didn’t need the child as much as you, and only Claire and Chris seem to see how abnormal this relationship is.

Only Leon doesn't care anymore.

And you too.

[estrella-etoile]

Two Views of the Cave of Ten Thousand Gods

Unpopular opinion, probably, but... Mu Qing and Feng Xin had a point when they went to extremes to try to get Xie Lian away from Hua Cheng

even if they were wrong.

Let's look at this from FengQing's POV. The last time they saw the crown prince, he was fighting with an overpowered ghost king completely obsessed with breaking (and ultimately owning) him. White No-face genuinely believed that he was doing XL a favor with his torture. That the downfall of Xianle was all for the greater good, and that he had plans for Xie Lian related to it all. Maybe they didn't realize it was so that XL could become the perfect protege, but the unhealthy obsession was apparent.

Fast forward to now.

Xie Lian is back. He's suffered from 800 years of destitution and humiliation. He speaks casually of unspeakable pain and torture, and suddenly there's this other overpowered ghost king that brought a reign of terror to the Heavens.

And that ghost king also seems to be around (and extremely affectionate with) the prince. Hua Cheng brought the same terror to Heavenly Officials that White No-Face brought to Xianle (by design as a punishment for Heaven looking the other way...) So here XL is, back, speaking about sleeping in the same bed as Hua Cheng with a shrug. Holding his hand and snuggling up to him. Looking desperate and pained any time they are separated.

And then? As they're trekking up Tong'lu attempting to thwart a new ghost king's birth, they come across a cave full of beautifully carved statues of Xie Lian. From the God Pleasing Crown Prince to the fallen god to the drunken crying exile and finally... to the god suffering the effects of the Land of the Tender. To any but Hua Cheng and Xie Lian (and especially to Feng Xin and Mu Qing), this obsession looks dangerous. After all, was White No-face's obsession different? Maybe it wasn't, and suddenly both of them are asking the (valid) question, is this all happening again? Did Xie Lian truly get broken this time? Is he walking into the life of a kept man and sex slave of a depraved and evil ghost king who was about to achieve the pinnacle of his obsession?

So they acted the way that they thought they needed to, to get Xie Lian away from the threat. Because even after 800 years of ignoring their shame, their loyalty had never completely eroded away.

The difference between White No-face and Hua Cheng is night and day to pretty much anyone paying attention. But the thing is, FengQing didn't have the view that the readers had, didn't even have the view that Pei Ming and Shi Qingxuan had honestly. They didn't see the quiet moments where Xie Lian and Hua Cheng just basked in their little world. Didn't watch Xie Lian giggle at some joke that Hua Cheng told.

They didn't pay attention to Xie Lian, or to the fact that San Lang never tried to force Xie Lian into a mask (which WNF literally did). True, Xie Lian spent a ton of time trying to understand why Hua Cheng had chosen him, but he never so much as had his hackles raised when Hua Cheng was around.

Ironic that it made them strip Xie Lian of agency to "rescue" him.

By Tong'lu, Xie Lian was as obsessed and in love with Hua Cheng as vice versa. It meant the Cave of Ten Thousand Gods was a beautiful revelation. Ah, so this is why my perfect and beautiful and sexy and clever and best friend Ghost King chose me. And I feel so lucky that he did.

It's not something that Feng Xin or Mu Qing are equipped to understand yet. Because Xie Lian is no longer the naive ascended-too-early god pleasing prince. The hardships that he suffered in those intervening centuries made him stronger, instead of weaker.

By the time they finally defeated White No-face, and certainly in the year where Xie Lian waited, I think both of them finally had a good idea of the person he had become. I don't think either will ever be truly comfortable with Hua Cheng (which? fair. also, kinda deserved.), but they definitely can tell that Xie Lian is happy, and are happy for him in turn.

[gotasenseivebeenbetrayed]

I know some of us, me included, have some-what struggled heavily with all the Matty talk/speculation.

While I love just listening to Taylor and appreciating the songs for what they are and how I can relate to them. I also love the idea of trying to guess who each song is about and as I'm open-minded I've done my fair share of digging into Gaylor/Kaylor/Swiftgron as well as now, Maylor. And honestly up until Maylor, I thought it was always pretty easy to see how many holes were in the Gaylor theories and while there are holes still in Maylor, there are also - unfortunately, a lot of things that do add up to Matty being the "big muse" over Harry.

And yet, while I do see those things and sometimes have a hard time being 100% that Harry is still the big muse - I'm still here trying to convince myself. Lol

So if you also need it - buckle up & follow along, this will be long

Just to get it out of the way, it is impossible for anything from Red or 1989 to be about Matty. I know I've seen a lot of people trying to connect him into it and it's just not possible as both came out before the two ever met.

The first public interaction of either of this was on Nov 8th 2014 when Taylor liked this tumblr post of Matty wearing a 1989 shirt.

For reference 1989 originally came out Oct 27 2018 and Red Oct 22 2012. Both of those are before Nov 2018. And while Matty did say they met some time in October of 2018 (British Matt, 25, who wore a Taylor Swift 1989 shirt on stage earlier this month, told how he and the Grammy award winner had met in October - This was in this article by DailyMail posted on Nov 2018), she did not meet him and write songs about him for 1989 the same month it was being released. So according to Matty's own word, they met Oct 2018 and exchanged numbers.

Then their first official meeting in public was Nov 19 2018 when Taylor, Selena and co went to a 1975 concert. This is the concert where Harry was rumored to also be at according to US Weekly & earlier that day US Weekly posted another article claiming Taylor & Harry were talking again/friends. And I'd also like to note that I'd wager a guess that Harry introduced Taylor to The 1975 because back in 2013, Harry tweeted quite a few times about The 1975. Then back in March 2014 Harry was prank called by Matty so Matty had Harry's number.

Taylor was apparently super excited about her & Harry talking again, they apparently went to the concert together. So it'd be super unlikely after just having exchanged numbers with Matty & meeting him two or three times she'd already be obsessed with him to write songs about.

On Dec 2nd 2014 Taylor & Harry were both in London during the VS Fashion Show. So they were still friendly at that point & DailyMail posted an article saying they had drinks at a bar after.

Our third official meeting between the two was another The 1975 concert Dec. 4th 2014 in NY - yes this the same concert Kissgate happened. From there articles were being posted about them rumored to be dating. But during that same time on Dec 8th 2014, there was a blind item that Ali Lohan and Matty were hooking up. Then officially started circulating Dec 24th 2014. And both of them were supposedly at that Dec 4th show in the VIP Section.

Now if we're going to add into the fact because of Taylor stupidly mouthing the whole "This song is for you, you know who you are. I love you." last year before Cardigan and Matty having done that same thing a few days earlier at one of his concerts. People believe Cardigan and therefor August and Betty are all about Matty & Taylor and I'm assuming Ali but, I don't know for sure. If we're going based on the lyrics and idea of it being Matty & Taylor, this was the only time they would've been "dating" back then and Ali was the only one he was accused of cheating with so August would have to be Ali. And based on the lyrics, if they're to be believed. August did NOT know about Betty, Ali would've known about Taylor because not only was there rumors circulating then about T&M dating, Ali was supposedly at the same show as T, in the same section as her. August also implies the affair happened in summer but, once again T&M didn't even meet until late fall and A&M rumors and T&M rumors didn't start til Dec which is winter. Also want to add there was a blind item that said Ali & Matty sent Taylor a photo of them in bed together which is wild, obviously doesn't mean it's true but, if it were true it would indicate that Ali most def. did know about Taylor.

So based on what we know they knew each other from an unknown date in Oct and exchanged numbers then Taylor appeared at 2 of his shows between Nov and Dec. Dec. 4th is when rumors started they were dating and by Dec. 8th Matty was hooking up with Ali Lohan and him and Taylor were apparently already over. Then around Feb 24th 2015 Ellie Goulding introduced Tay & Calvin and they started dating very quickly after.

Now Maylors are trying to say that this night below which is from Feb 25th 2015 is probably the night that Taylor wrote "Exile" about saying that Matty seeing Taylor with Calvin was the whole "I can see you standing honey with his arms around your body". And Matty being jealous over Calvin. Firstly, T&C weren't even fully dating yet, they had just met and were flirting. And if they (M&T) were truly dating in Dec. 2014 and then Matty cheated on her with Ali and Taylor was "head over heels" for Matty enough to write all these songs about him - why would they be within the same area as the other? Taylor is generally not nice to her exes, especially if they screw her over and Matty would've screwed her over heavily if everything was true.

However, funnily enough there were also blind items around Dec that came out before the rumors did that suggested Taylor was going to be in a PR Relationship with Matty as a way of "roughing" up her image a bit. Normally, I do not take too much stock in blind items as anyone can submit one but, sometimes there are real ones and this one seems to be legit as they called out what would happen (T&M wouldn't ever be seen holding hands, kissing etc. but they'd be spotted supporting each other at shows and event photos of them near each other would be taken just to get people talking and as long as Matty didn't screw it up, they'd write a contract for 2015 then a week later articles were being published of them "dating" & Taylor was shown at his 2nd concert, then Matty did end up screwing things up by sleeping with Ali & that ended their possible contract).

Blind 1 & Blind 2

On her birthday in 2014 she tweeted about how she'd like the media to stop claiming she was dating her friends which was obviously a hint at both Matty and Karlie since rumors were going on about both.

By late Feb Taylor was with Calvin which lasted a year (until June 2016) and we can conclude from Taylor's own lyrics (Getaway Car and High Infidelity) she probably cheated on him. There was also a blind item that suggested she was cheating on him and when she wrote This is What We Came For with him it was about the man she was cheating on him with and he had no idea at the time. After they broke up, he wrote Ole and the entire MV was taking jabs at Harry which why would he do unless Harry was the one she cheated with.

I couldn't find an exact date but, sometime in 2015 Matty started dating an 18 year old model named Gabriella Brooks and they dated until 2019. Obviously, cheating could happen so them both having partners doesn't mean they weren't together in secret but, yeah it's leaves very little room for Cardigan, August & Betty considering the "chase two girls, lose the one" if Matty was in a relationship after Taylor started dating another man and then she got with Joe before Matty & Gabriella even broke up.

Also on Jan 20th Matty did a radio interview with Australia's 2DayFM and said

"It's all bloody fake. It's a farce." "We met each other, we exchanged numbers in the same way that a lot of people in this kind of world do, and we spoke occasionally," he said. "She's the biggest pop star in the world and I'm in Australia. There's no relationship or anything happening. It's just funny how people really, really buy into that."

In an interview with Q magazine in March 2016 Matty said he never dated Taylor. He called it a flirtation, said she wasn't a big impact on his life, and this was also the interview where he said it would have been emasculating to only be known as Taylor Swift's boyfriend.

He also said this later on when he was correcting the narrative about that interview and how people said he was being misogynistic.

 I had fears of being 'somebody's boyfriend' (remember this is all speculation as we never dated!)

Feb 20 2020 they saw each other at the NME Awards and Matty said

"She was just stood behind me. I mean, I haven't seen Taylor in years so it was actually a really nice room."

So in 2020 he said they hadn't seen each other in years and he wanted to collab with her. And going off the other interviews he did, they never dated and only talked occasionally - so I'd bet money those blind items were correct and Matty fucked up any possibility of an official PR contract back in 2015 by sleeping with Ali and that they never actually hung out outside of her going to those few concert shows and then backstage at certain events. Even if they were wanting to keep their relationship secret, he did not talk about her in a light that even remotely hints at anything. And if she was writing all these songs about having a secret relationship with him why would he lie and say they hadn't even seen each other in years? He didn't need to mention that and why would he publicly talk about being nervous to talk to her again and ask her to collab if they had been having a secret affair?

Now another thing Maylors claim is that Taylor/Matty wrote songs about each other over the years and that there were songs from Midnights and Being Funny in a Foreign Language about one another but, Matty said in an interview in Nov 2022 that Taylor had only heard "bits and pieces" of their album thanks to Jack. So it does not sound like they wrote songs about each other.

Then Jan 2023 is when Taylor surprise performed for The 1975 in London which again, remember, originally Harry was who Matty wanted.

Also want to add that by Dec 2022 it seems like Taylor might've already had an idea in her mind for The Tortured Poet's Department because Matty posted this photo kissing Pheobe where he said "Gay Poets Society" referencing the 1989 classic film "Dead Poets Society." which Taylor also referenced in the Fortnight video. And they were on speaking terms at this point because Matty claims they worked together for Midnights but it was scrapped. She told us herself she started working on TTPD directly after Midnights and if Matty/Pheobe were possibly already hinting the name of it in Dec of 2022 then it's safe to say she probably already had the title track written at that point as well as Fortnight and already had the idea for the Fortnight video in her head and therefore it makes no sense for those to be about Matty when both are talking about a relationship that's already ended and this would've been before they "dated" last year.

Also, I don't think Matty and Pheobe would jokingly kiss if he was secretly with Taylor, especially since when Matty was "dating" Taylor last year he stopped kissing random fans/bandmates on stage as a show of respect to her.

Then we have Matty taking shots at Harry over the years.

In Jan 2019 he tweeted he wanted to produce Harry's new album but, that he needed Harry's new number because was "definitely blocked".

In Jan 2023 Matty said he asked Harry to be an opener for The 1975 and got told no. Apparently this was the concert that Taylor ended up doing instead. Which again, if they were having a secret affair all this time and pining for each other why the hell would invite her ex to perform as an opening instead of her?

Then in Feb 2023 he accused Harry of queerbaiting..by doing the same shit he himself does.

[burberrycanary]

Hi there! I am about midway through reading your story Lost Vocabularies and it is amazing!! The whole series has been so lovely, I’m obsessed with the way you write! The way that you convey the boys complicated emotions and capture all the little nuances of their dynamic has me feral!! Beyond even them the way you inject so much personality into the locations is so good, I feel like I am there!! So thank you for writing this lovely story 💕 I was wondering if you happen to have a list of all the books that Bucky and Steve read? I have been looking up a lot of them and adding them to my to read list bc they sound so interesting lol! On that same note, how did you decide what books to mention? Are they all ones that you have read or did you do research to find ones you thought they would like?

I’ve been coming back and rereading this kind and wonderful comment in my inbox over the last few weeks when way too many massive, stressful, time-sensitive things were all happening at once. 💕 But since I have a little breather between crazy periods, I get to dive in here as a treat.

Lost Vocabularies involved a lot of research, which I hope isn’t apparent because I didn’t want there to be any noticeable difference between the parts of the story that are based on places I’d been, foods I’d tried and books I’d read personally—and what was created purely based on research. Fingers crossed that the seams don't show!

In this series, we see both Steve and Bucky use art to process—helping them understand themselves and connect to the world again. Bucky is drawn to stories while Steve as an artist is much more visual, but the underlying impulse is similar. In the same way that you learn a lot by glancing through someone’s bookshelves, what characters read is interesting to me, and revealing. This version of Bucky is a very private person so these books offer a glimpse into his inner life. And as the POV character we get to experience all these things alongside Steve.

I’m not much of a sci-fi or fantasy reader so some of Bucky’s picks were a real challenge for me. But I wanted these to be grounded in the characters and the storytelling functions, not based on my own taste and opinions, though of course those always bleed through. 

Steve’s Reading List

The Day of the Triffids by John Wyndham

Alice Neel: People Come First by Kelly Baum and Randall Griffey

The Thing on the Doorstep and Other Weird Stories by H. P. Lovecraft

The Beautiful Mysterious: The Extraordinary Gaze of William Eggleston, edited by Ann J. Abadie

One Mighty and Irresistible Tide: The Epic Struggle Over American Immigration, 1924-1965 by Jia Lynn Yang

Bucky’s Reading List

The Thing on the Doorstep and Other Weird Stories by H. P. Lovecraft

A Scanner Darkly by Philip K. Dick

QED: The Strange Theory of Light and Matter by Richard Feynman

Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? by Philip K. Dick

Six Not-So-Easy Pieces: Einstein's Relativity, Symmetry, and Space-Time by Richard Feynman

Nonlinear Dynamics And Chaos by Steven H. Strogatz

Stranger in a Strange Land by Robert A. Heinlein

I’ve included some notes and commentary on why I picked each of these works under the cut.

The Same River, Twice (The Man Is Still Left with His Hands)

The Day of the Triffids by John Wyndham

Classic post-WWII dystopian sci-fi that focuses on society collapsing after a series of catastrophes that were unintentional but very much caused by people, which leads to a lot of the population becoming blind. Thematically this work engages with the loss of identity that people, both abled and disabled, face in the process of survival and a dark look at what happens after societies break down. How this applies to Bucky is obvious, but part of the argument of this post-Endgame series is that it applies to Steve, too. 

Also, there are huge mobile carnivorous plants. 

Fun fact: the opening of this novel is said to have been the inspiration for 28 Days Later!

Still Left with the River (The Paradox of Motion)

Alice Neel: People Come First by Kelly Baum and Randall Griffey

Alice Neel’s portraits are extraordinary, almost unnervingly vivid. In this story, Steve is familiar with her work as a fellow New York-based artist active in communist circles in the 1930s. She also worked for the WPA, producing wonderful street scenes that documented New York neighborhoods of the era. 

To be honest, I have so many questions about what Steve was up to in the late 1930s before his war mania of the 40s hits.

One of the core themes of this series is Steve struggling with what his body is for if it’s no longer for violence. Who is he if he’s not a soldier? What is his radically changed body if it’s not a weapon? How do you come home from the war?

In this regard, Steve and Bucky have all kinds of shared life experience.

So thematically I include Neel because of her startling gift for capturing personalities and bodies through a process of frank, earnest, truthful observation of the integrated completeness of body and self: this space that’s you. 

But a book of Alice Neel’s work with her sensitive portraits and fleshy frank nudes pulls him into flipping through page after page of these personalities and bodies, not idealized: seen.

Steve isn’t ready for that when he bumps into this big “impractical” art book in a holdover Barnes & Noble in Brooklyn, not when he’s still so shook up and adrift. But he will be.

There’s such empathy and radical humanism to her pieces. “People,” as she famously said, “come first.” I stand by the conclusion that Steve would love her work.

The Thing on the Doorstep and Other Weird Stories by H. P. Lovecraft

Lovecraft was relatively unknown in his lifetime—he died in 1937—but his stories were published in popular fantasy pulp magazines like Weird Tales and Astounding Stories, which is where Bucky would have come across his work. The fact that Steve recognizes Lovecraft by name means that teenage Bucky must have talked about what he was reading and the pulp stories he liked with teenage Steve, which is adorable—“this Lovecraft fellow, Steve, you wouldn’t believe the stuff he comes up with.” And Steve was paying attention enough to remember two decades and change later without the benefit of his serum-enhanced memory, which hurts my heart a little in the best possible way. 

That’s how Steve all these years and decades later is able to wordlessly toss this collection of H. P. Lovecraft’s stories at Bucky on a hot hazy stumbled-upon beach in northern Florida and watch Bucky’s whole face light up. 

And of course Bucky would view Lovecraft as a great beach read 😂

But this is the basis for something I’ve written into this series: Bucky excitedly sharing things he finds interesting with Steve—wanting to tell Steve first, Steve most. And although Steve is quiet, stoical and very self-contained, he’s paying a whole hell of a lot of attention.

Given that Bucky is canonically a Tolkien fan, I think the imaginativeness and ranging scope of Lovecraft’s complex, often interconnected stories would appeal to him. And, thematically, Lovecraft is distinctive for the era for having characters psychologically fragment when confronting these vast inhuman others. 

“The Call of Cthulhu” opens with:

The most merciful thing in the world, I think, is the inability of the human mind to correlate all its contents. We live on a placid island of ignorance in the midst of black seas of infinity, and it was not meant that we should voyage far.

Steve and Bucky have each voyaged out a long way.

Trauma, in a way, is a form of terrible knowledge. You can heal but you can’t unknow things. 

Not Language but a Map (The Grammar of Sensation)

A Scanner Darkly by Philip K. Dick

This is the first book in the series that we see Bucky pick for himself. And, wow, he picks a doozy with themes of multiple and unstable identities, invasive surveillance, manipulation, psychosis, and how individuals can get chewed up by larger systems, falling through the cracks of society. Dick was writing based on his own troubled experiences with southern California drug culture of the early 70s, but this work gets at much more fundamental darknesses that I think would speak to some of the horrors Bucky has gone through and won’t talk about, not even with Steve. 

Within the first few pages, we get this:

It was midday, in June of 1994. In California, in a tract area of cheap but durable plastic houses, long ago vacated by the straights. Jerry had at an earlier date sprayed metal paint over all the windows, though, to keep out the light; the illumination for the room came from a pole lamp into which he had screwed nothing but spot lamps, which shone day and night, so as to abolish time for him and his friends. He liked that; he liked to get rid of time. By doing that he could concentrate on important things without interruption.

The Beautiful Mysterious: The Extraordinary Gaze of William Eggleston, edited by Ann J. Abadie

Eggleston was an early pioneer in color photography and that fascination with color is very apparent in his work. I think this focus would grab Steve as an artist who doesn’t take seeing the full spectrum of color for granted. Even in the MCU’s thin action-film scripts, Steve comments on things that offend his aesthetic sensibilities even when that has absolutely no bearing on the situation at hand, from Stark Tower to Lang’s van.

Not even a world-ending crisis can keep Steve from going, wow, no, that’s ugly. I enjoyed running with that 😂

Steve’s view of Eggleston’s photographs shifts over the course of the series, reflecting what he’s feeling, from the fragmented and disconnected detachment—“isolated and off-kilter”— that he sees in them at the beginning that shifts to the passionate engagement in the world he finds in them later. 

Steve looks through the whole book of William Eggleston’s photographs again and at first the colors still roll over him like the shockwave of a distant explosion, all he can focus on. But gradually the subjects and compositions pull forward, too: monumentalized images of the everyday that at first seem neutral, the work of a detached observer. But the off-center framing of ordinary life is so deliberate as though everything might be important and where every detail deserves attention—that’s nothing like neutral. That’s not detached at all. You have to care a whole hell of a lot.

This mirrors the journey this post-Endgame Steve goes on. Because Steve Rogers should be a character who cares a whole hell of a lot, not what the MCU writers eventually reduced him to. And that’s what this fix-it is trying to fix. 

Lost Vocabularies that Might Express (The Memory of These Broken Impressions)

QED: The Strange Theory of Light and Matter by Richard Feynman

I love writing Bucky as a big fucking science nerd. His last night in New York and how does he want to spend the time? At a science fair with his best friend and a couple of pretty girls. So Bucky reading about quantum electrodynamics is delightful to me. The thing is, though, Bucky is a bright enough guy with a high school education. He’s not a genius—and the MCU is lousy with geniuses. But if Bucky wanted to learn a little more about all this quantum stuff he heard about in passing during some vague and very improbable sounding explanations, which by the way also allowed one of the few people still living who truly matters to him and the closest thing Bucky had left to family to fuck off to the past, well, Feynman’s QED isn’t a bad place to start in understanding some of this quantum stuff, at least. 

Feynman here is very much writing for a popular audience. His writing is conversational—the book is adapted from a set of lectures he gave—and his voice is witty, casual and surprisingly light, but at the same time Feynman is deeply invested in helping lay people understand quantum mechanics. The book opens with:

Alix Mautner was very curious about physics and often asked me to explain things to her. I would do all right, just as I do with a group of students at Caltech that come to me for an hour on Thursdays, but eventually I’d fail at what is to me the most interesting part: We would always get hung up on the crazy ideas of quantum mechanics. I told her I couldn’t explain these ideas in an hour or an evening—it would take a long time—but I promised her that someday I’d prepare a set of lectures on the subject.

I prepared some lectures, and I went to New Zealand to try them out—because New Zealand is far enough away that if they weren’t successful, it would be all right! Well, the people in New Zealand thought they were okay, so I guess they’re okay—at least for New Zealand! So here are the lectures I really prepared for Alix, but unfortunately I can’t tell them to her directly, now.

C’mon! Tell me Bucky Barnes would not be hooked by this opening. 

Thematically, and more seriously, the question of how could Steve do this? has two very different meanings. So far in this series Bucky isn’t ready to confront the harder version of that question which comes potentially with some very painful answers: how could Steve make that choice? Nope, he’s not ready for that. Instead, his brain unconsciously takes the easier way out: trying to understand quantum electrodynamics. 😂😭

Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? by Philip K. Dick

Bucky must have liked A Scanner Darkly, because he went for another Philip K. Dick novel. Today remembered mostly as the source material for Blade Runner, this bleak dystopian novel is set in the aftermath of a devastating nuclear war that destroys most life on Earth. The work has themes around empathy—who feels empathy and for what?—materialism and what really makes us human. 

I find it interesting how Sebastian Stan talks about The Winter Soldier in terms of someone who has undergone a process of total desensitization, which to varying degrees is deliberately part of the training of all soldiers. But rebuilding his core sense of empathy was one of the things Bucky chose to do as soon as he had any agency in that two-year period where he was on the run, which is remarkable. As a person who has been treated as though he wasn’t human and had his empathy forcibly stripped from him, I think Bucky would have a lot of complicated feelings about the enslaved androids who escape but are ruthlessly tracked down and killed. Some of these escaped androids are dangerous and do lack basic empathy—shown in the book by torturing and mutilating an animal—while other androids seem like ordinary people just trying to live their lives. 

I like that Bucky talks about the book with Steve later in the story, returning in my view to a very old habit of bookworm Bucky wanting to share what he’d been reading with Steve <333

“I need to find something to read next,” Bucky says after wrapping up his description of an imagined religion that involved plugging into a box to virtually suffer the existence of a man forever walking up a steep hill while struck by crashing stones. 

“Well, did the androids dream of electric sheep?” Steve asks.

“Who knows?” Bucky knocks into him gently as he takes the bowl Steve passes over. “They just wanted to be free. Though the free people just wanted to own stuff or plug into a box and suffer. So, you know, sort of a grim outlook. ”

“A little light, cheerful reading.”

“Hey, we live in a world where people write ‘Take back what’s yours’ in the streets and then smash up the windows. Dystopias don’t seem so far off the mark.”

Six Not-So-Easy Pieces: Einstein's Relativity, Symmetry, and Space-Time by Richard Feynman

Another case of Bucky sticking with an author he likes! To me, this implies that Bucky has already read Feynman’s Six Easy Pieces, which explains some of the foundational basics of physics for a very broad and non-technical audience. Six Not-So-Easy Pieces is also drawn from Feynman’s famous Lectures on Physics, focusing here on relativity and space-time, but this work assumes a greater knowledge of math, hence the name. But as a legendary sniper Bucky must have a strong aptitude for math and anyway I just leaned into making Bucky an all-around nerd, because Bucky Barnes, nerd who grew up hot, is delightful to me. 

Relativity, Symmetry, and Space-Time are all on point for a post-Endgame fix-it, which I think should count as a not-so-easy piece in its own right. 

Throughout the series, we see Bucky using physical copies when he reads fiction, more or less from unconscious nostalgia: connecting back to memories of his younger self who was an avid reader of pulp magazines and cheap paperbacks. Once Steve gets him going with that first quietly tossed-over gift, Bucky always carries around a sci-fi or fantasy book in this series despite the limited space in his backpack. And this familiarity wouldn’t just be from his pre-war life since I figure Bucky would have gone for the Armed Services Editions that were distributed for free to soldiers. Bucky likely traded with other soldiers once he finished a book if he couldn’t get a new ASE distribution: trading in his finished novel for a new one is Bucky unconsciously falling back into another old habit.

But for non-fiction, Bucky is absolutely here for the Modern Marvel of being able to carry around as many books as he likes on his phone. I figure Bucky would have used public libraries during certain stages of his recovery when he was homeless and migratory since they are a place to get information that is consistently available in cities; and a warm, quiet place you can go with a minimal number of security cameras. I headcanon a middle-aged librarian who has a few streaks of gray in her dark hair—and who reminds Bucky of someone but he has no idea who—explaining what e-books are to this tall, gaunt, soft-spoken homeless guy with an eye contact problem. And this person who isn’t the Asset anymore and isn’t Bucky Barnes yet has the out-of-nowhere thought: huh, whaddaya know. That’s pretty neat.

Nonlinear Dynamics And Chaos: With Applications To Physics, Biology, Chemistry, And Engineering by Steven H. Strogatz

Isolated systems tend to evolve towards a single equilibrium and these equilibrium points have been the focus of many-body research for centuries. But life is generally not that simple because most systems aren’t isolated. Often the dynamics of a system result from the product of multiple different interacting forces and objects in these systems can change between multiple different attractor wells over time. Or as Strogatz puts it:

As we’ve mentioned earlier, most nonlinear systems are impossible to solve analytically. Why are nonlinear systems so much harder to analyze than linear ones? The essential difference is that linear systems can be broken down into parts. Then each part can be solved separately and finally recombined to get the answer. This idea allows a fantastic simplification of complex problems, and underlies such methods as normal modes, Laplace transforms, superposition arguments, and Fourier analysis. In this sense, a linear system is precisely equal to the sum of its parts.

But many things in nature don’t act this way. Whenever parts of a system interfere, or cooperate, or compete, there are nonlinear interactions going on. Most of everyday life is nonlinear, and the principle of superposition fails spectacularly. 

You can think of nonlinear dynamics as situations in which the sum of the parts is insufficient to understand the whole. This connects to multiple themes in this story as Bucky and Steve try to understand themselves, their lives and each other. But here Bucky is also just continuing to live his best life as a nerd with a strong intuitive knack for math, a high school education, an internet connection and a growing collection of science e-books. Or as Bucky puts it:

“It’s nice, though, like this smart guy is just talking to you but doesn’t assume you’re dumb because of what you don’t know.”

It’s touched on only very lightly in the series so far, but Bucky has a lot of complex feelings about higher education that relate to class, indirectly to sexuality, and go back to the experience of being the son of upwardly mobile working-class immigrants who were very bought-in on a traditional take on the American Dream.

Stranger in a Strange Land by Robert A. Heinlein

I picked this partly because I thought the title would grab Bucky, who has been a stranger in a strange land several times over. Thematically this midcentury sci-fi novel focuses on challenging social norms through having the main character, a human who’d been raised by Martians on Mars, come back to Earth as an adult. A best-seller in its day that was controversial for its rejection of Christianity, monogamy and the nuclear family, the work is very tied to the looming cultural changes of the 60s and 70s. 

The novel’s critical reputation has been steadily in decline for decades, but I think Bucky would find it interesting since he grew up within the traditional early 20th-century culture this novel satirizes and challenges—mores that this story’s version of Bucky didn’t unquestioningly accept but didn’t openly challenge, either.

Having Bucky pick this novel reflects the themes for the last act of this story that focus more on Steve and Bucky's different experiences as closeted queer men growing up in a deeply homophobic society. These experiences continue to shape and impact them and yet are also a past these two are coming to terms with and growing beyond. 

Fun fact: this novel coined the word “grok.”

One Mighty and Irresistible Tide: The Epic Struggle Over American Immigration, 1924-1965 by Jia Lynn Yang

Of all the books featured in this series, One Mighty and Irresistible Tide is my top recommendation. This is an accessible, well-written history of a topic that haunts American history: immigration. The specific focus is the waves of legislation passed in the first half of the 20th century that tried—and often succeeded—in limiting who could legally immigrate based on the racial and ethnic hierarchies that equally haunt American history, right down to the foundation. 

In this series, I wanted to pick up the themes of social justice and immigration that were so vaguely and incoherently included in TFATWS. These themes are inherent in the Snap and Return plotline except that Disney does not want to touch any of these politics with a ten-foot pole. But I remain fascinated by trying to wrap my mind around what it would mean for half the population to vanish and then return five years later, catastrophically in both cases. It’s a huge, intricate, sticky, difficult world-building problem that’s inescapably political. 

Steve isn’t quite ready to dive into facing or helping to fix the problems of the post-Return world that his actions helped to create. But here we get to see Steve’s burned-out passion and conviction slowly rekindle as he reads about the complicated and often ugly history of American immigration—and he gets mad about it. Of course, he gets mad about it! This is my answer to the ludicrous idea that Steve Rogers could quietly sit out the second half of the twentieth century. 

At the same time, I can have compassion for Steve knowing he can’t keep going but not knowing how to help himself, only to be given the cursed monkey’s paw of time travel. And he fucks up. His actions have real and lasting consequences. But that doesn’t make the situation hopeless or mean Steve can’t try to repair the relationships he damaged or work to regain the trust he lost, assuming he’s lucky enough to be given another chance by people who love him but have been hurt by his choices.

One of the greatest challenges in writing this Endgame fix-it was accepting Endgame as the starting point of the story and trying to reconcile a character I love with the choices canon has him make. Over the course of these stories, the central point isn’t Steve coming back to Bucky. It’s Steve coming back to himself. Through a slow and painful struggle, Steve finds himself again—rediscovering his stubborn endurance, his compassion for others and his drive to set wrongs right. Steve stumbled, badly, but he gets back up. Because that’s who Steve Rogers is. 

And because of who Bucky Barnes is—his innate kindness, his warm-hearted generosity and his stubborn loyalty that isn’t blind but runs deep—that’s how these two characters come back to each other, after everything.

Deliberately, this series is the first hard-fought and hopeful glimmer in a long trudging process that can get so heavy to carry forward, day after day, but is shot through with moments of beauty and joy all the same. 

I can't go on; I'll go on.

In other words, to quote one of my favorite poets: what the living do.

[thatpodcastkid]

Magnus Archives Relisten 5, MAG 5 Thrown Away

Trash apple teeth! Is this anything

Spoilers ahead!

Facts: Statement of Kieran Woodward, regarding items discovered in the refuse of 93 Lancaster Road, Walthamstow. Given February 23rd, 2009.

Statement Notes: There are so many posts out there comparing The Magnus Archives to the Twilight Zone because of Jon's narration and the serial creepy story format, but this episode really stands out in mind as Twilight Zone-esque. Like the Twilight Zone, some Magnus Archive episodes deal with things like childhood guilt and cult-behavior, like MAG 4. But other episodes just kind of say "Damn, isn't that fucked up? Anyway," like this one.

I do love Kieran as a character. He's just so weirdly chill and realistic about everything. There's are some statement givers who are still being tormented by the fears, some who cause fear, some who are reporting on things that happened to people they know, but there's also this interesting category of people who survived because they played the game right. When the audience says "don't go in the basement" or "call the cops," they listen. Woodward gets through this statement unscathed because he moves on from the creepy dolls heads and reports the teeth, then destroys the "gift" left for him and tries to move on. Alan can't let go, Alan doesn't know the rules of the genre, that's why he doesn't make it out.

My two new favorite characters in the series are "Matt, who was raised Catholic and never shut up about it," because he is me, and David who "broke the silence by vomiting loudly into a nearby drain," because he is the most realistic horror character of all time.

Entity Alignment: Whenever I think of this episode, I think of it as the "teeth in a bag" episode. I actually 100% forgot about the metal heart. Now, when you think of those things, it kind of sounds like a Flesh episode.

But, let's all remember our favorite bio majors and their special gift to their professor. The Stranger has a history with teeth. The description of the dolls heads is very "uncanny valley," which is the Stranger's real niche. The thing that really sells me though is Jon's last line in the statement, "All two thousand seven hundred and eighty of them were the exact same tooth." The exact same tooth, apparently from the exact same person, repeated over and over again to the point that the examiner can date them because of their differing stages of decay. You know what that sounds like to me? Someone has been practicing.

The metal heart also says Stranger to me. I know it has a little Flesh energy, but it really reminded me of the hospital episode from season 5. The way the character describes feeling like her body was not her own, that parts of her had been replaced, substituted. The metal heart as the only remanent of Alan feels like that same kind of fear. It's not his, it's not him, but it's all he's got.

Speaking of Alan, does his obsession with watching the house to the point he goes without sleep for days, isolates his friends, and is presumed dead remind you of anyone? He must be influenced by the Eye at least a little bit.

But ignoring entity alignment for a second, Jonny does consistently uses obsessive characters really well. There's a lot of horror media where, in real life, it would make more sense for the characters to give up on their investigations of the supernatural or to ignore it in entirely in the first place. The audience is usually (and rightfully) able to suspend reality for the sake of the story in these situations. But what's so interesting about Jonny's writing is that he explicitly states characters like Alan, like Amy Patel, like Jon, can't stop themselves. It's obsession, it's all consuming, they know it's bad for them, but they just can't stop. It really adds to the audience fear because you're not the only one telling them turn back, their mind is screaming it too, but they still won't listen.

Character Notes: The post-statement in this episode is just 90% Martin hate. Absolutely unhinged behavior. What if you worked at a restaurant at the end of receipts your boss just wrote "This waiter is a goddamn loser and I hate him." Wild man Jonathan Sims everybody.

[nenilein]

Heya, Neni!! I've been getting really curious about the Quest ARS' lore as of recent, and I was wondering how much you knew/was revealed about the three's backstories. Anything of note about how they got where they are?

I'm especially curious about the fact that Seo saved Atari's life in the past... How much do we know about that? Do we just know that it happened, or are there more details, like how or why?

So, I'll go through them in ARS order:

Atari:

The reason she wants to be a spacetime detective is because a detective saved her life when she fell through a spacetime tunnel as a kid and almost got stuck and died that way. It's also the reason her favorite food is Onigiri, because that was the food the detective treated her to to cheer her up when she was crying after the traumatic experience. Atari also keeps a Wishing Pendant (an intralian toy, similar to a mood ring) on her person at all times; that pendant was a gift from the detective that saved her.

Of course, as you said, the detective that saved Atari back then was, in fact, a younger Seo, but Atari doesn't recognize her after all those years and Seo is keeping it a secret from her. Rokia, however, has already caught on to this, but decided to stay out of it.

After Atari became obsessed with private detectives, she started watching tons of mystery movies, TV shows and reading all the novels she could get her hands on, so she has a pretty fantastical, Sherlock-Holmesified idea of what it is like to be a detective. She apparently also got made fun of for her enthusiasm about her dream a lot in the past.

Rokia:

We reaaaally don't know anything about his background, other than that he's been working in the field for years now and is pretty jaded. His sense of justice is pretty defined though, seeing how he often keeps investigating cases far beyond what he's getting paid for, just to make sure other people are safe.

Seo:

She started her detective work in her youth and, according to herself, was pretty similar to Atari when she started out, hence why she actually has a lot of faith in her potential as an investigator in the future.

Before Seo founded the agency, she worked freelance on her own and, somewhere along the way, came to Primp Town and made friends with Accord. The two of them are pretty close and Seo knows some of Accord's secrets that nobody else knows about, it seems. In the past, Accord had to often make sure Seo would eat on the job, because she would often accidentally starve herself while in the zone. This task has since been taken over by Rokia.

Ecolo is kind of the Arsène Lupin to her Sherlock Holmes. We don't know when she first ran into Ecolo and when she started being able to remember those encounters, but the last time she met Ecolo he was clearly still his PP7 self, given her descriptions, meaning he must've actively avoided running into her ever since making friends with Ringo. This is confirmed by how throughout Quest's story, Ecolo makes meticulously sure to not show himself when Seo and Ringo are in the same room, presumably to avoid Seo realizing that Ringo is friends with him. Whether this is because Ecolo doesn't trust Seo to not hurt Ringo if she finds out or because Ecolo is embarrassed of how much he's changed is unclear. In any case, when Seo direcly points out to Ecolo that something about him is different from when they last met, he dodges the issue immediately.

As mentioned above, Seo saved Atari's life when she was a kid and, while not initially recognizing the new recruit as the little girl from back then, eventually catches on to who she is. She doesn't tell Atari though, despite playfully hinting at it. The fact that Seo saved Atari despite her not being a paying customer and even treated her to lunch and gave her a little toy afterwards shows that, despite how miserly she can seem these days, at least back then she was a pretty idealistic person.

[adorpheus]

Taking a Chest of Drawers I Rescued from the trash and making it rainbow!!

Hello, tumblr family. Below is a repost of an article originally posted on adorpheus.com, and is being shared here for archival purposes. Original post date: July 23, 2022.

Several years ago, I think it was 2014, I was driving around my hometown and I came across a chest of drawers someone had left on the curb for trash day, apparently throwing it out. At the time I was in need of a dresser pretty much exactly like that - my bedroom was small and I was hoping to get a chest of drawers that was taller than it was wide so it wouldn't take up too much room.

Bless this mess, lol

Originally, the dresser was a blonde wood color with blue knobs. It was also pretty beat up - the back of it was scuffed and it was missing a knob. Even still, I jumped at the chance to get the chest of drawers I was looking for FREE, have fun repainting it, and get to upcycle some trash at the same time.

When I first got it, all I did was spray paint it white. I had ideas for things I wanted to do with it, but that was the first step in getting it ready to paint. Then I didn't do anything with it for like 7 years or something, lol. Then this year, since I have been re-doing my room anyway, I realized it was time to finally get this project finished.

I love pastel rainbows, so I decided to go with that for my theme. For the paint, I went to home depot and after looking over all the paint chips, I picked out some colors I wanted and got paint samples for all of the different shades. I used matte for the drawers and semi-gloss for the white part (the spray paint job was not very good to begin with, so repainting the white base was a must). All the paint is samples of the type of paint you would use on a wall. 

After I finished painting, I felt the drawers needed an extra glaze of some kind to give them a bit of sparkle. The matte was a cool idea in theory but I wanted it to pop a bit more. I had a bottle of craft glitter clear glaze lying around so I decided to go with that. The bottle was half empty, so there wasn't much glitter left in it (plus a bunch of it chose to clump into an unusable blob at the bottom because the bottle was like 15 years old lol) but it did the job well enough. I love when I get to use up craft supplies I've had sitting around for a while.

Once the painting was complete, the last step was to figure out the knobs. Aside from the fact that I hated the original spherical knobs anyways because they were hella awkward to grab, the dresser was missing a knob sooo new knobs were an absolute must.

My original plan was to use rose shaped knobs, but the reviews I saw for those kind said the rose knobs were a bit sharp on the edges. I truly hate when things randomly have sharp edges, and last thing I need is getting pricked in the hand every time I need to grab a pair of socks. So those were ruled out.

After spending way way way too long looking at knobs, I decided on these crystal knobs (above) on amazon and decided to get them. I actually originally wanted a fancier, more expensive set, but those got sold out before I got a chance to buy them so I went with the cheaper set above. The photos didn't look quite as pretty as the ones I originally had my eyes on, but I had already spent so much time obsessing over fricking KNOBS I decided to just go with them. I'm actually really happy I went with these. The pictures don't begin to do them justice, they are way prettier in real life.

To protect the surface, I used my sewing machine to create this lavender lace altar cloth / runner type thing for the top. 

Although the drawers are a little sticky sometimes (which they were to begin with, lol) I'm pretty happy with this furniture flip!! The exact kind of dresser I was looking for fell into my lap and I was able to make it cute.

Some other happenings in the adorpheus multiverse...

I recently became a Twitch affiliate after years of trying!!! Emotes coming soon, feel free to follow me on Twitch to see when I go live! This month I'll be playing the new cat game STRAY along with some other fun titles!

Speaking of cats..!

I also adopted a new cat!! It's MEOW time!! Say hello to Artemis aka Arty for short! She is best friends with my sisters cat Luna!! I am sharing photos and videos of her and Luna on my instagram and they also have their own tiktok!!

I hope everyone is having an amazing non-binary hot gurl summer!! Have fun and stay hydrated!!!

[koizan]

Was Tagged in this post by @azonine and my edible hit a while ago. let's go for it everybody thank you beloved

Last Song: my sister and i were listening to our spotify blend earlier and i think it's updating itself bc i could've sworn the last thing i remember was something like passion by nicki minaj with a pink album cover but i can't find this song so i think i made it up. likely what i actually hear was Bomb Intro / Pass That Dutch by Missy Elliot. it's my sister's contribution but i vibe with it. apparently we're an 83% match which is interesting. she also keeps making fun of me for saying ethoslab is attractive but i'm literally right. sorry you wouldn't understand

Favorite Color: BRIGHT red slightly pink. i never used to say i have a favorite color and i lost my shoe. i've found it. anyway i gravitate towards red, especially that shade. i also love just black of course but that is a safe color that goes with anything. but red. that's bold. also many flowers are red. flowers are gorgeous. every single one. godbless they make the world cooler

Last Movie/TV: The Wilds. one of those cancelled lesbian shows. unfortunate. it's not as good as Yellowjackets though. i think they spend too much time on everyone's backstories but they're honestly not that complex like half of season 1 is leah having a breakdown over that guy and they want to be like leah is an obsessive person but they only show the one thing like. her other obsessions are so much more interesting i don't care about mr pedophile writer guy i literally do not care. let her go insane she deserves it for being bisexual. the last movie is possibly blue beetle which was alright for an airplane movie, wish i could pause it though. why tf is it a channel? who put live channels on planes? who did that? you deserve SUFFERING. also, while i was writing this i realized i actually later watched the new percy jackson episode with my sister so that actually but i don't remember anything from the books and unfortunately the show is clearly directed towards the same age range as the original series and it's like. good for what it is but selfishly i wish it was cooler for me specifically. rick riordan is cool though

Sweet/Spicy/Savory?: sweet or savory depends on my mood really. but savory maybe? although i am searching it up and now i am confused about the definition. i love the savory crepes (the philly) from crepevine it's possibly my favorite meal ever. would love to eat crepevine every day all day ever

Relationship Status: newly single. please hmu if you like taking care of pathetic people or alternatively have a lot of money

Last Thing I Googled: "vegetable list" to answer the llff qotd which i keep saying in my head as "quote of the day". before that. soojin g-idle. queen. you would've killed it in queencard i know it. also as you can see above i am in fact single

Current Obsession: i think my depression is currently bad enough to prevent me from a single obsession currently. i searched the wilds on tumblr a couple times but it's like 90% people complaining about canceled wlw shows bc tumblr search is unusable. i wouldn't call it anything close to an obsession though, it just happens to be what i'm currently binging. most recently though - poppy seed pets. also rewatched a couple community episodes. such a good show my god. wish alison brie was asian. also i have been thinking about tattoos a lot. specifically my new one which was my first. got with friends. very cute (: further i am going to be so abnormal about the boys s4. i don't have a kin list but i'm starting one rn putting jordan li at the top. minecraft character bdoubleo100 second. king from the owl house third. not for size reason we just both get disrespected. taking recommendations for additions that aren't a random small animal you saw on instagram - please keep in mind that i am 7'4" in real life and extremely intimidating. i am also considering adding nora from the wilds (autistic) and abed community (autistic) and todd sanchez bojack horseman (aspec but actually we're not that similar. i think i am just thinking about him. what a lad.) and perhaps. asian lesbian from scream queens because i too think chanel no. 3 is hot. actually every character from community except pierce is relateable. also generally any character that is "bad" representation of a minority group and knows it but i haven't seen much of that kind of character. they should make more of them for the bitches like me who are simultaneously whitewashed and a stereotype

[ro-is-struggling]

Stay || Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader

Summary: After discovering the truth about the Upside Down, Y/N Henderson joins his little brother in the final battle to close the portal and save Hawkins. In doing so, she finds herself teaming up with none other than Steve Harrington of all people and discovers a side of him she didn't know he had. In the chaos of the battle he brings her comfort and makes her feel safe. That's why when everything ends she doesn't want to leave his side. So she does what everyone would do in her situation: invite him to spend the night at her place even though they are not friends. 

Warnings: nothing I think, it's just fluff, like really really fluffy. Steve is a sweetheart and comforts Y/N when she's scared after everything she went through. They share a bed, do I need to say more?

English is not my first language

Word count: 4700+

Notes: I wrote this to calm my Steve feels while I finished watching season 4. So enjoy this little thing based on season 2 and don't hesitate to send me some requests because I love this man and I'm obsessed

I hope you like it! Likes, comments and reblogs are very much appreciated!

Saying that you were in shock was an understatement. On the same day you had lost your cat, you also discovered it had been eaten by a creature from another dimension –one that your younger brother had brought to the house– and had helped Dustin and his friends close a portal to said other dimension by going into a strange tunnel full of threats with no one other than Steve Harrington. It had been the strangest day of your life and you still weren't sure you fully understood the situation, but your brother had assured you that Eleven had taken care of everything so you had no choice but to believe his words, trusting in the powers of a girl you had never seen before.

When the battle was over and the portal closed, Steve offered to drive you and Dustin home. Thanks to Billy Hargrove, he had a bruised and bloody face, with a black eye that was swelling with each passing second, but he was still in better condition than you were. Apparently this wasn't the first time he had dealt with such things so the shock hadn't affected him the same way it had affected you. So you chose to momentarily forget the fact that this was one of the few times you had interacted with Steve and accepted his proposal, grateful for his good treatment. 

You did nothing but stare out the car window in silence for the entire drive, trying to process everything that had happened in the last few hours. You had so many questions about the Upside Down and everything that had happened before, but you were surprised to realize that one of the things that stood out to you the most was Steve Harrington's friendliness and the good relationship he seemed to have with your brother. It was surreal to be in King Steve's car while he and Dustin chatted casually. You had never been friends with Steve in high school, you were too weird and awkward to cross paths with the most popular guy in school. 

You had an image of him in your mind that wasn't reflected in the way he acted in the last few hours. You used to think he was arrogant and shallow, that he would never even bother to look at someone like you. But to you surprise he had not only taken it upon himself to protect you and your younger brother, but he had also made sure to ask you if you were okay at every chance he got. 

You felt strange because when you finally arrived at your house you found that you didn't want to get out of the car. You felt safe being with Steve and the thought of being alone in the house –where one of those creatures that had attacked you had been hiding without you realizing it– terrified you .

"Are you okay?" Steve asked you when he noticed that Dustin had gotten out of the car but you weren't moving a muscle. It took you a few seconds to realize that the mumbling yo heard in the distance was in fact Steve's voice asking you a question.

"What?"

"I asked you if you were okay" he repeated softly, looking at you with concern in his eyes.

"Oh, yeah yeah I'm fine" you lied, clearing your throat in an effort to sound more convincing."It's just that I'm still processing everything that happened."

"It takes a while," Steve assured you, letting out a chuckle as he remembered how scared and confused he had been when he found out everything. You nodded your head slowly, considering his words as you struggled to calm your nerves. You remained silent for a few seconds, lowering your gaze to your fingers fiddling with the hem of your t-shirt. Steve opened his mouth to speak once more, searching his mind for words of encouragement that might help you at that moment. But before he could say anything, you looked up and locked your eyes on his.

"Hey, Steve" yo muttered, biting your lower lip nervously. "I know this might sound crazy but, humm, I was wondering if you, humm, if you could maybe stay with me... With us, tonight."

You felt stupid saying that, especially to someone like Steve. But you were scared and didn't want to spend the night alone. No matter how many times you were reassured that the danger was over, you still felt unsafe. And for some strange reason Steve was the only person at the moment who could make you feel safe and calm. So you asked him to stay with you even though you were not friends, trying hard to ignore the embarrassment you felt. 

"I know it's over, but I don't know, it doesn't feel like it's over to me yet. And I don't like the idea of being alone with Dustin in the house. I..."

"It's okay, I can stay" Steve interrupted your nervous rambling, giving you a reassuring smile.

"Thank you" you sighed in relief. "And I'm sorry, I'm still on edge I guess."

"You don't have to apologize. After my first encounter with all this I couldn't sleep for a week. It happens."

Steve's words made you feel a little better and knowing that he would be staying with you tonight helped calm your nerves. You gave him a small smile before getting out of the car, digging in your purse for the keys to the house. You stepped forward, handing  the keys to Dustin to open the door since he was closer as Steve pulled out a bag of extra clothes he always carried in the trunk just in case.

"What is Steve doing here?" Dustin asked you with confusion as he walked into the house and turned on the lights.

"He's gonna stay with us tonight. It's late and we're all tired" you lied. You didn't want to admit to your little brother that you were terrified and that Steve's presence made you feel better. Dustin looked at you with narrowed eyes, examining your face suspiciously. You struggled to maintain a neutral expression until the boy finally took his eyes off you.

Letting out a long sigh of relief, you locked the door before taking off your jacket. You were thankful your mother wasn't in the house as you noticed the mess that had been left after your brother tried to catch Dart. You didn't feel like tidying it up at the moment, so you would have to pray you woke up early so you could fix everything before your mother returned. It was either that or come up with a really good excuse. 

 "Dustin, please take a shower before going to bed. We were inside a tunnel connected to another dimension, is the least you can do" you exclaimed as you watched your brother disappear behind the door of his room. You dropped onto the couch, letting out a sigh of exhaustion. Your body ached from all the tension your muscles had endured in the last few hours. You tried to stretch your arms and move your shoulders a bit in an effort to improve your condition, but you only felt more pain so you stopped immediately.

"Are you okay?" Steve asked, sitting down next to you.

"Yeah I'm just tired and sore for some reason" you replied with a half-smile.

"Yeah, tell me about it," he said, gesturing to his injured face.

"I'm sorry. I can get you something for the pain and clean your wounds properly now that we're safe" you offered, remembering the chaos that had followed the fight with Billy. You hadn't had much time to waste, so you had to get an unconscious Steve into the car as best you could and tasked the boys with tending to his wounds while you drove. You hadn't had time to take the necessary products to disinfect his wounds –and the kids had done it in a speeding car–, so Steve ended up with his face covered in cartoon band-aids. It was an amusing sight to see and kind of adorable. "I can give you less childish band aids."

Those words seemed to convince Steve, who nodded his head slightly. You ran to the bathroom, grabbing the first aid kit from the cabinet before hurrying Dustin to take a shower. You returned to the living room once you heard the water running behind the closed bathroom door, indicating that your brother had listened to you. Then you approached Steve, sitting down next to him on the couch while resting the open medical kit on the coffee table.

"This might sting a little bit, but I'll try to be careful" you warned him before you began to work. Steve nodded, giving you permission to continue, and you started by removing the badly stick band-aids from his face. You tried to be as gentle as possible so as not to irritate the poor injured skin even more. And when his wounds were exposed to your curious eyes once again, you proceeded to clean them by taking a cotton pad from the first aid kit and soaking it in disinfectant. You concentrated first on the cut on his temple, patting the wound with the cotton in a firm but gentle manner so that you could remove the dried blood without causing him further discomfort. Steve hissed in pain and your eyes locked on his, analyzing his expression to see if you should stop.

"I'm sorry" you murmured, suddenly realizing how close you were. You could see details in his eyes that you had never seen before, a sparkle that awakened a strange feeling inside you .

"It's okay" he assured you and  you continued working. You tried to avoid making eye contact as you moved down his face with the cotton pad, confused by the tingle that ran through your body when your gazes met. You concentrated on wiping away the dried blood under his nose and on part of his upper lip, gently taking him by the chin to tilt his face towards you. But as you worked you found yourself admiring his lips for a little longer than necessary. 

You would be lying if you said you had never been attracted to Steve in the past. You used to think he was a superficial asshole, but a very attractive one. When you saw him walking down the halls of the school holding hands with a girl you wondered what it would be like to be her. You couldn't help but be curious about how it would feel to be so close to Steve or to have his lips on yours. But you knew those were questions that would never get answers. In fact you weren't sure you really wanted to know the answers. You two belonged to different worlds and you was aware that you were incompatible. A relationship between you would not last. Your questions came from fanciful curiosity rather than real desire.

But now that you knew another side of Steve, one you liked, you weren't sure your feelings were only platonic. Standing just inches away from him, you couldn't stop thinking about how soft his skin felt beneath your fingers, or the tingle that his gaze awakened in you. You could admire every detail of his lips and count every tiny freckle that adorned his skin. The dim, warm light provided by the floor lamp next to the sofa framed his face in a special way, somehow highlighting all the features you found attractive in him. You didn't care that he had a black and somewhat swollen eye, as your gazes met you felt the strange urge to close the little distance that separated you.

Steve felt the electricity in the air as well, but didn't know if it was appropriate to act on his desires or not. You had been through a traumatic situation and the look of hunger in your eyes could well be a product of the swirl of emotions you were probably feeling. He had just saved you from a risky situation so maybe that's why you seemed to be seeking his touch. Maybe you just wanted to feel safe and kissing you wasn't really appropriate if that was the case. So when your eyes lowered to his lips again Steve closed his eyes, hoping that would be enough to stop his urges. He could feel your breath crashing against his skin and mingling with his own. He could swear it had slightly quickened, but it could very well be his mind playing tricks on him. He wanted to kiss you, but chose to leave it up to you to make the first move.

It took you all your willpower not to crash your lips against Steve's the moment you saw him close his eyes. You almost did, but at the last second you were able to come to your senses and pulled away from him, keeping a safe distance while you looked for some band-aids to cover the cut on his temple. When you returned your attention to his face you discovered that Steve had reopened his eyes and was watching you carefully. You tried hard not to show how nervous his gaze made you, praying that he didn't notice the slight blush on your cheeks. You held eye contact for a few seconds, just long enough so it wouldn't be obvious that you were escaping his gaze, and then returned your focus to the wound. You could still feel his eyes on you as you applied the bandage, but you tried to disregard it.

"You're all done!" you exclaimed with a smile.

"You are really good at this, it didn't hurt, like at all" he praised you. And it was true, it had hardly hurt at all, though he wasn't sure if it was because of the delicate touch of your hands or because he had been too distracted admiring you in silence to register the pain.

"I had a lot of practice. Dustin used to fall off his bike and hurt himself all the time while learning how to ride" you explained as you gathered the items from the first aid kit to put them away and threw away the used cotton pads. "Mom was usually working so I was the one tending to his wounds."

"That's really sweet."

You talked about your lives for a while and discovered you had some things in common –much more than you imagined whenever you saw King Steve Harrington walking the halls of Hawkins High School. When Dustin came out of the bathroom, you took his place. You stood under the shower with your eyes glued to the floor, watching as the hot water ran down your body removing all traces of dirt and blood that might still be left on you. When you stopped seeing brownish water on the shower floor you proceeded to clean yourself with a generous amount of soap. 

A couple of tears escaped your eyes in the process, the solitude of the bathroom giving you the privacy you needed to let out all the emotions you had been repressing since you learned the truth. You were terrified, but you didn't let that interrupt your cleansing ritual. You scrubbed every inch of skin with desperation until you were convinced that it was impossible for any particle of dirt –or from the Upside Down– to remain ingrained in your body. Then you shampooed your hair, washing it just as rigorously before turning off the faucet and wrapping a towel around yourself. 

When you emerged from the bathroom –already changed into clean, comfortable pajamas– you found Dustin and Steve chatting in the living room. They were muttering things to each other that you didn't quite understand, and fell silent as soon as they saw you enter the room. You looked at them with a mixture of confusion and suspicion, but didn't mention anything. You simply asked Dustin to go to bed before telling Steve where the bathroom was so he could take a shower too. 

Once alone, you set up the couch so that your guest could sleep on it. You took a couple of blankets from the closet and pulled one of the pillows from your own bed, arranging it on one end of the couch while you pulled the sheets over the other. When Steve came out of the bathroom he thanked you for the trouble. You couldn't do more than give him a small smile, your brain was too busy admiring the way his wet hair framed his face to form a coherent thought. So you ran to your room to avoid doing something stupid and hid under the covers, hoping sleep would restore your sanity.

But when you turned off the light all you managed to do was relive the previous traumatic events. Images of the demogorgons and the tunnels beneath Hawkins played before your eyes, keeping you awake in a constant state of anxiety. You tried to ignore it, focusing on how tired you were. You repeated to yourself over and over again that the danger was over, that the portal was closed and that you would never have to face such danger again. But nothing worked. 

You tossed and turned in bed, hyper-aware of every noise or flash of light coming through the window. You flinched at the sound of the wind or the creaking of the wooden floors, imagining that some new monster was coming to attack you. Until you got tired of spinning around, of feeling your heart pounding against your chest every time a tree branch crashed against the window. So, with slight embarrassment, you got out of bed and walked to the living room.

“Steve... Steve, are you awake?” you whispered in the darkness, watching the figure resting on the couch.

“Hmmm, yeah yeah what’s going on?” he replied in a husky, slow voice, indicating that if he wasn't already asleep, he was close to it.

“I’m scared and I don’t want to be alone… Could you…humm, could you maybe stay in my room with me tonight?”

You were biting your lip so hard you were surprised you didn't draw blood. Steve was silent for a moment and your nerves increased with every second. You were about to take back your words, to ask him to forget what you had said and run to hide in your room, when he jumped up from the couch.

“Sure, let’s go” he mumbled, wrapping an arm around you to make you move.

It was a strange situation to have Steve in your room and even stranger to see him lying on your bed, but you were grateful for his presence. You settled in next to him, making sure to leave as much space between you as you could. You didn't want to make him uncomfortable or have him think it was all part of a plan to get him to sleep with you. You were truly terrified and his presence was the only thing that seemed to calm you down.

“Thank you for everything” you whispered, breaking the awkward silence that had formed between you. 

“Don’t mention it,” he replied, not knowing what to say.

“No, you saved my life and my brother's life and I never thanked you for it” you insisted, turning over in bed so you could look at him.“So thank you for everything, Steve.” He nodded his head slightly, giving you a smile before returning his gaze to the ceiling. You remained on your side, watching his profile in the darkness of the room, your mind lost in thought.

"Things are never gonna be the same, aren't they?"

"Not really, no. But it gets better. Besides, the portal is closed, we're safe."

"Yeah well it was closed before and look what happened."

"Then let's hope I'm around to save you next time."

Steve smiled. But it wasn't just any smile, no. It was one of those smiles you always saw him give to the girls he dated. It was his charming smile, the one that all the girls in high school –and a couple of guys too– were desperate for. It was the smile they all fantasized about. 

Was Steve flirting with you? No, it couldn't be. 

You rolled your eyes and let out a sarcastic comment in response as you bumped him on the arm lightly with your elbow. You thanked the little light coming in from the window for hiding the blush on your cheeks.

"Can I ask you something?" you said in an effort to change the subject. Steve nodded, leaning towards you once again to get a better look at your face in the dark. "How can you be so good at fighting monsters from another dimension but can't kick Billy Hargrove's ass?"

"Oh so this how it's gonna be with us, huh? I thought you were grateful for all I did" he said, pretending to be offended. You let out a small laugh and Steve couldn't help but smile with you.

"And I am! I'm just curious. I mean, you were king Steve after all. What happened to all that?"

"Yeah I was, but Hargrove is insane."

"Maybe I should ask him to protect me then."

"Yeah like he's gonna do that after what happened." You laughed because Steve was probably right. Billy was an asshole to you and probably hated you for getting in the middle of his fight with Steve. "I can't believe you. I get a black eye trying to protect everybody and you pay me back by criticizing my fighting skills."

"I'm not criticizing, I'm just…” you paused, looking for the right words.”Pointing out how strange it is, that's all."

"Yeah right."

The two teenagers continued chatting late into the night. The cheerful and relaxed tone of the conversation helped you forget your fears for a while. You were surprised to find that talking to Steve was easy. All this time you had thought he was the typical arrogant, rude, popular guy, but it turned out he was one of the dokiest men you had ever met. And you liked that.

You lost track of time as you laughed in the darkness of your room. The tension you had previously felt in the air disappeared somewhere between the second or third laugh you shared. You lost your fear of accidentally touching each other under the sheets around the same time too, and when you finally fell asleep you ended up being much closer than you expected to be. You weren't cuddling, but if either of you stretched out your arm you would find the other's warm body resting next to you.

You realized that when your hand collided with Steve's firm chest as you awoke from a nightmare. Dazed and frightened, you reached out in search of something to hold on to, something to help you reconnect with reality. And that something ended up being Steve, who woke up to the movement in the bed.

"What happened? Are you okay?" he whispered with concern, confused by the situation.

"Yeah I'm sorry. I had a nightmare that's all" you apologized as you tried to calm the rapid beating of your frightened heart.

"Come here."

Before you could process his words you felt a pair of arms close around your waist. Steve pulled you to his body, pressing you against his chest. You stayed still, surprised by Steve's action. You opened her mouth to ask him what he was doing, but then one of his hands began to gently caress your back. His fingers moved gently over your pajama top, sending a comforting tingle through you. And just like that, the tension in your shoulders disappeared. Your whole body relaxed and before you knew it you were asleep again. Steve's hoarse voice murmuring "everything is gonna be okay" against your hair was the last thing you heard before you fell into the arms of Morpheus.

*Bonus scene*

Waking up in the arms of Steve Harrington the next morning was less awkward than you expected. At least that was until you emerged from your room to find Dustin and your mother eating breakfast in the kitchen. You had hoped to get him out of the house before your mother returned to save yourself the excuses, but staying up until 2 AM laughing with him had backfired on you.

"Look who decided to join us! Good morning, honey" your mother exclaimed from the kitchen when she saw you walk by. You cursed under your breath and stepped back to greet her.

"Hi mom! I didn't know you were home already" you said, glaring at Dustin for not waking you up sooner. Your brother gave you a smile, faking innocence, and continued eating his breakfast.

"Who is this handsome young man?" Mrs. Henderson asked, ignoring your comment and focusing all her attention on the man standing next to you.

"Oh, this is Steve. He's… a friend from school." Steve smiled awkwardly and shook Mrs. Henderson's hand politely. "We were working on a biology project last night and we got carried away. It was late so I invited him to stay for the night. I hope you don't mind, mom" you lied, hoping your mother wouldn't ask too many questions.

"Of course not, honey! Would you like some breakfast, Steve?"

He wanted to say no. He wanted to make up some excuse to escape from that uncomfortable situation. But your mother seemed to be such a kind woman that he simply could not refuse.

"Breakfast sounds great, if it's not too much trouble."

You gave him a murderous look which he answered with a simple shrug. He sat down at the table next to Dustin to eat his breakfast with great joy. He hadn't realized how hungry he was until Mrs. Henderson put the plate of food in front of him.

"It's so nice to meet one of Y/N's friends. She doesn't bring many to the house."

"Mom!" you exclaimed with embarrassment, accepting your fate and sitting in the free chair next to Steve.

"What? It's true. You barely leave the house and you never bring friends over. At least your brother goes to those play dates that he has with his friends." Dustin laughed and you tried to kick him under the table to shut him up. "But it's nice to know that you do have friends. Why were you hiding this handsome young man from us, honey?"

"Yeah, why were you hiding him, Y/N?" Dustin joined in, taking advantage of the situation to embarrass his older sister even more. "Is he more than just a friend?"

Steve almost choked on the juice he was drinking and this time it was two different feet kicking the boy under the table.

"Shut up, Dustin!" you said trying to fight the blush that was beginning to creep up your neck.

"You're getting all red, Y/N. That's a little suspicious," Dustin continued to mock you. Steve looked at you, instantly noticing the red color in your cheeks. He was used to women blushing in his presence. Most of the girls at school turned the color of a tomato when he smiled at them. But for some reason none of them looked as adorable as you at that moment.

"That's enough, Dusty" Mrs. Henderson interjected. "Leave them alone. We don't want to scare Steve."

After having the most awkward breakfast of your life, you walked Steve to the door to say goodbye. As you left the kitchen you were able to hear your mother and brother whispering to each other and made sure to make a mental note to remember to murder Dustin as soon as you got the chance. 

"I'm sorry about all that. I didn't think my mom would be home."

"It's okay. Your mom is lovely and your brother is a likable little shit."

"That he is," you agreed with a laugh. "Thank you for everything, Steve."

"Don't mention it" he shrugged it off. "Oh and if you ever find yourself in trouble again don't hesitate to call and I promise you I'll come to rescue you" he added, handing you a piece of paper with his phone number scribbled on it.

"Will do."

[sukirichi]

— out of reach | gojo x reader

request: Girllllll I just read your jealous gojo fic and my heart went 📈📈📈📈💥💥💥 youre now one of my fav writers 🙏🧎‍♀️And the spicy parts 😫😫😫 💖 If your asks are still open, could I please request a fic where GOJO has a size kink 🥺🥺🥺 my 5’1 ass is obsessed with that shizzzz 

pov: you’re gojo’s childhood friend and roommate – which leads to utter chaos – or perhaps utter bliss?

warnings: size kink, lots of teasing, lots of cursing, dirty talk, choking (probably not in the way you think), body worship, lots of size difference scenes, slight manhandling, overstimulation, thigh fucking, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (don’t do this irl guys) + unedited fic :D

notes: idk what happened here LMAOOO but i loved writing this one because i’m short as hell too lol. thanks for this request anon, i hope you like it! <3

word count: 10.5k

masterlist ! 

If you’re going to be honest, having Gojo as a roommate is something completely unexpected.

Not only are you two from entirely different worlds – him as a jujutsu sorcerer and you as an average human who can’t see curses – but he’s also just someone who is entirely out of your league. He’s respected and looked up to in his field of work, while half of your co-workers don’t even know your name, much less notice you in function parties where you mostly just nibble on sushi before calling it a day and turning back home.

You and Gojo met in elementary school. You could tell from the way he’s surrounded by servants and stern looking adults, firm hands on his small shoulders, that he was different from everyone else.

Apparently, he comes from one of the three big clans in the jujutsu world or whatever. You honestly don’t care about any of that, because Gojo refuses to act maturely about his role in the clan. You still remember how quiet he was on the first day of school, never smiling and keeping to himself despite your persuasion to eat lunch with him or play with him after school in the courtyard.

You miss that Gojo Satoru – the quiet, serious kid who was far too gentle in his actions yet firm in his words and beliefs. When you were still a little girl, you admired how he seemed older than his age, a wistful look in those azure blue eyes of his that you’ve always loved.

To you, Gojo Satoru was your hero. You’ve always been one of the shortest kids in class, and it didn’t help that you really loved pigtails all the way until middle school that made you an easy target from immature people who’s being hit way too fast by puberty and growing each passing day. You never minded your short stature because really, it’s just height, but you couldn’t ignore how your confidence dwindled each day when they called you several array of nicknames.

Too shy to fight back, you’d laugh it off or force a smile.

Gojo wasn’t having any of it. He’d break his silence and immediately pull you to his side (which only made things worse because Gojo was one of the tallest kids in class, further emphasizing how small you are right next to him) before threatening to smack the kids right in the face.

The threat should be enough to land him detention, but because he’s Gojo Satoru, the golden kid everyone loved, they took his word seriously.

At the age of eleven, you started seeing your best friend as your knight in shining armour. Gojo basked in this, growing protective and always glaring at whoever snickered when you walked past them. Sometimes he even bared his teeth to hiss at them, which was honestly so ridiculous now that you think about, though the message – the threat – always came across loud and clear.

So yeah, you love Gojo, you still do.

Years flew by and the two of you grew apart due to work and also as a part of growing up. You still kept in contact, messaging each other once a month to ask the other how they’re doing. His work kept him extremely busy though, and Gojo didn’t want you involved in the dangers of what he’s doing, so he makes sure to keep a safe distance.

Until six months ago, you hear a banging on your door. You’re just about ready to throw hands because your former roommate moved out to live with her stoner boyfriend, leaving you to shoulder all the bills and responsibilities of maintaining a two man apartment.

A sneer forms on your lips as you swing the door open, a scowl already on your face. You assumed it was your roommate who returned to get the pair of lace panties they left in their room, but instead, your childhood friend stands before you, taller (seriously, how has he not stopped growing?) and definitely a lot hotter than the last time you saw him.

One thing leads to another, and now it feels like there was never such distance between the two of you with how easily you both fell back into a comfortable – yet chaotic – rhythm and routine of being each other’s roommate.

Not that you mind, of course. Gojo’s definitely changed a lot from when you were kids. He’s no longer that stiff or sensitive when it comes to others. In fact, it seems like he loosens up a lot more with age, because you can barely recognize the man living under the same roof with you now.

For one thing, Gojo is loud. Like really talkative, won’t shut the fuck up and speaks like he’s in a screaming contest with someone. It doesn’t matter if you’re taking an important phone call or sleepwalking at three in the morning to pee, Gojo is always creating some sort of ruckus.

You’d never admit it out loud, but you loved it. You love him.

He’s definitely a lot more enthusiastic and fun to be with now that both of you have grown up, or in Gojo’s case, simply aged. His maturity reversed backwards because it feels like you’re taking care of a little kid.

Not only does his body clock is practically non-existent, he’s also horrible when it comes to taking care of himself and being punctual with work.

Fortunately for him, you love him, and you both leave for work at the same time. You always wake up earlier to prepare breakfast so you’d both have energy to start the day – although you highly doubt there’s really anything that depletes his endless source of one.

Sleepily walking through the kitchen with your fist rubbing at your eyes, you rummage through the refrigerator for some eggs when you realize there’s none.

Huh, you think to yourself, scratching your scalp. You’re sure that Gojo went grocery shopping last week since it’s his chore to do the outside stuff like buying groceries and throwing thrash, so where did it go?

You open shelf by shelf, checking each corner and shoving cans aside to look for the tray. With a glare, you stand on your tiptoes to pull the pantry open, only to have your mouth fall aghast because it’s all there – right at the back where you can’t reach it!

Fucking Satoru, you grit your teeth while heaving your body up onto the counter. It’s a struggle because not only are your muscles still half asleep, but because the shelf is right in your face, and if you’re not careful enough, you could hit it right with your face and fall over. Of fucking course you know Satoru did this to make fun of you – and now you retract your statement over your best friend.

It’s all a lie.

He’s a pain in the ass. Why do you even bother cooking for him and letting him live literally just a room away when you know he won’t stop pulling shit like this?

Because, the nagging voice in your head tries to mock, he’s your best friend and you can’t really say no to him. This makes you huff as you carefully pull the tray towards you, hooking two fingers at the edge while your other palm grips at the end of the counter for support. No thanks to your short limbs, you’re practically hogging the shelf by now in an attempt to reach it. You look ridiculous, that’s for sure, and you make a mental note to keep Satoru’s windows open tonight so he freezes to death –

“Aw, cupcake,” a sing-song voice emerges from the other side of the room. “You look so adorable. You should’ve woke me up if you need my help.”

“Fuck off, Satoru,” you flip him off. The man only laughs, the rambunctious sound echoing off the walls. It’s way too early in the morning and he’s already so damn loud; something builds up at the back of your head out of frustration already. His grin only gets wider when you finally got the eggs and clutch it your chest, setting it down on the counter while wiping your sweat away from your face. “Freeloader,” you mutter under your breath, ignoring him when he happily skips over to you.

“Ouch,” he places a palm over his chest, although you both know he’s never really affected by anything. “So what’s for breakfast today? You?”

“You know, I can kick you out anytime I want. I’m being extremely nice even going as far to cook you breakfast before you leave for work, so don’t test my patience.”

“Exactly, my best friend is so kind,” Satoru grows the audacity to rest his arm on your head. This triggers a reflexive response from you; shoulders tensing up and hands curling into fists beside you. “I would totally date her if she wasn’t such a temperamental little devil,” you nearly stab him with a fork with his statement, which he thinks he’s being so sly for but you heard it, and you’re most definitely not pleased with it. “Okay, I’m kidding! I’m going to go shower now!”

You roll your eyes at him and heat the pan over with some oil, muttering under your breath that you’re really going to kick him out soon. As if things couldn’t get worse – as if Satoru couldn’t get any worse – he smacks your backside in the process before darting to the showers.

“Gojo Satoru!”

“Morning, best friend, love ya!”

You were right. He is a pain in the ass.

“You don’t always have to walk me to work.”

“I know.”

“So why’re you still here? I’m not a little kid anymore,” Contrary to your words, you stick closer to Satoru when the morning rush of workers and students begin to crowd the streets. Your best friend notices this with a small smile, his hand resting on the small of your back. “Don’t even try, Satoru.”

“I wasn’t saying anything.”

“I know that look on your face,” you fiddle with the buttons of your uniform, sighing when Satoru follows you inside the bus after tapping your phone for two seats. It’s not a surprise to you anymore that most of your expenses are spent by him, for him, and he lazily sprawls his long limbs across the seat before you pulling you down right next to him.

As much as you hate this man, especially because he smirks at the attention he’s receiving from women – even men – in the bus, you have to admit he’s warm and smells damn good. You bite the inside of your cheeks, looking around in slight self-consciousness before inching a little closer, just to feel his warmth. He’s comforting – irrationally so – so you set your bag between the both of you to keep your sanity. “If you keep doing this, Principal Yaga might fire your ass because you’re never on time.”

“Trust me, cupcake, he won’t. I’m too valuable for that.”

How you saw that coming – you can’t tell anymore. The bus ride is relatively quiet and eventless, with you dozing off every now and then because you’re never a morning person. Thankfully, Satoru is more respectful this time around, lolling your head until it drops to his shoulder. After that, he snakes his arm around your waist before resting it on your thigh as a way to say you don’t have to head bang every damn second and just sleep.

On any other occasion, you would’ve hated it. You always look so small whenever you’re in Satoru’s presence. It doesn’t help that he’s long and lanky, either, his slender fingers effortlessly caressing your thigh while almost your entire body is flushed next to him. But right now, he’s too warm, too soft, and you’re too tired that for just a little bit, you allow yourself to relax.

A beeping wakes you up a moment later. Opening your eyes, you push yourself off Satoru when you see an old lady reaching for the handles. No one gave up their seats for her even as the bus driver asked her to find a seat lest she’d fall.

“Grandma, here, take my seat—” You’re about to stand up and offer it to her when Satoru tugs you by the wrist. Because of your small, wobbly composure, pulling you to him takes little to no effort. You end up on his lap, sitting on him as if you’re nothing but a small, dainty schoolbag. Satoru is clearly enjoying this because you feel him breathily laugh on the back of your neck, charming – annoyingly so – as he gestures to the now empty spot beside him.

“It’s no worries, Grandma. She’ll be fine,” he gestures to you, patting your head like you’re some puppy. “Please, take a seat. The bus is already moving.”

“Satoru, get off me,” You wriggle yourself from his hold, which only ends up in wasted effort because this big oaf doesn’t even budge. He even bounces you on one of his thighs, and you dig your nails into his arms as a silent plead for him to stop. He ignores this, ignores your small whines and the apparent embarrassment that has you debating whether to punch him or hide yourself in the safety of his uniform.

“She’s a feisty little one, isn’t she?”

The old lady watches the two of you banter, giggling behind her wrinkled hands. “You’re an adorable couple.”

“I think so too!”

“You’re so going to pay for this, Satoru,” you grumble, face planted onto your palms. This is it – the worst day of your life. It’s even worse because despite your protests, you have to admit his lap is actually comfortable. You’ve already known this before after countless times of cuddling with Satoru during movie nights, but its different when you’re both out in public. It feels...oddly intimate and maybe even romantic when he rubs soothing circles at your back, almost as if apologizing for this event. Most of all, you just hate the way something pools beneath your stomach at having him so close to you like this. “This is so embarrassing. I’m practically crushing you with my weight.”

“Please, cupcake, you barely weigh anything. I could easily lift you off with just my finger,” when you elbow him in the chest, Satoru only laughs, raising both hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry, I’ll stop teasing.”

You give up. No one seems to be paying much attention to any of you anyway, so you sigh, letting yourself hide in the crook of his neck as you watch the city pass through the windows. Your body moves as his chest rises and falls from his breathing, the movement oddly comforting. It’s embarrassing – it really is – but at least the grandma was comfortable until Satoru drops you off near your building.

“You don’t have to walk me all the way there.”

“Why not? You don’t want people to see us together or something?”

“No,” you stare at him from the corner of your eye. It’s no secret Satoru is attractive. This bastard knows it too, judging from the way he confidently and arrogantly swaggers next to you, hands shoved deep in his pockets as he walked with no care in the world. “My co-workers keep asking me for your number every time I tell them we’re not dating. It’s getting annoying at this point how they go Satoru this and Satoru that.”

“Am I hearing it right? Is cupcake jealous?”

“I’m not jealous, I’m disgusted,” you correct, “They don’t know how much of a pain you are to have around. They’re so focused with your looks that they completely overlook the fact you can’t even wash your dirty underwear!”

Satoru frowns at this, pointing his finger to you as if you’ve accused him of a huge crime. “Hey, I wash my underwear.”

“Yeah and last time you did, you mixed it with whites! My work uniform turned a stupid shade of blue! Now I can’t picture the colour of your boxers out of my head and it’s giving me a headache!”

“Wow, Y/N,” the smirk on his face and the sudden drop of nicknames lets you know you’ve said something wrong. Even behind his blindfold, you could tell his eyes are just sparkling with amusement. He’s enjoying this way too much. “I never thought you’d ever picture my boxers. I mean, I don’t mind showing it to you if you ask nicely—”

“Ugh, you’re so hopeless. I’m going to work.”

Gojo laughs when you jog away from him. He catches up with you in a matter of seconds, only having to take a few steps forward before he’s right beside you again. You’re unsure if you should be annoyed it’s so easy for him to always be right next to you, and how he almost always is right next to you while you prefer running away. It muddles with your heart and mind so much you pinch the bridge of your nose, trying not to be swayed by the sickeningly sweet sound of his laughter. “I can’t pick you up later, okay? I might work overtime!” (that’s a lie since Gojo prefers shopping and sightseeing)

Both of you know that’s a lie. Gojo never works overtime. He’s going to work for a few hours and so and call playing around with his students as “on-hand learning” before he goes shopping for stupid souvenirs and wild-flavoured mochis, then end his day by sightseeing and coming back home.

“Wasn’t expecting you to,” you mumble, waving goodbye to him as the office doors close. Slowly, Satoru’s grin and enthusiastic farewell fades into view until nothing but the pale, silver walls of your office greets you.

Funny how you claim to hate this man so much, yet the moment he’s out of sight, everything becomes dull and pointless.

It’s an absolutely shitty day. Your equally shitty boss blames you for something you didn’t even do, all because his incompetent secretary – who you’re sure he’s sleeping with – lost this month’s report and claimed she handed it to you last week when you’re not involved in that kind of work. Logic doesn’t come by them because your boss publicly humiliates and scolds you, calling you all kinds of names until tears are streaming down your face.

You slam the door shut the moment you get home, kicking your shoes off as you head straight to your room. You don’t bother taking your makeup off anymore as you change into a loose shirt and floral cotton shirts, padding to the kitchen after seeing Satoru is well nestled into the couch.

At least someone’s had a good day.

Seeing as the sink is empty, he probably hasn’t eaten dinner. This makes you sigh, because when will he ever learn to look after himself? He’s literally like a child.

Satoru pauses whatever he’s watching before he hovers over you, head tilted to the side as he gazes at you with curiosity. You ignore him and begin to set down some bowls and chopsticks for dinner, all the while Satoru is studying every inch of your tightly pulled face. “Bad day?” he concludes.

“Hmm.”

“Bad day it is then,” he nods to himself. “I can cook dinner, if you want.”

“And have you burn my apartment? No thanks,” you scoff, pushing him aside to retrieve the pans when you see that he’s placed them above again, even after you’ve reminded countless times to just leave it near the holders in the sink. “Ugh, why do you keep putting the pans in this shelf? You know I can’t reach this. I’ve had enough with you pulling pranks on me, and don’t think I’ve forgotten you placed my shampoo above the shower head today, you idiot,” you snarl and hop over the counter again to get the pans, trying your best to fight back the tears that are threatening to fall. “You’re really bothersome, you know that?”

“Then why don’t you kick me out?” he challenges, completely oblivious to how you’re struggling – both physically and emotionally. “You always complain about me being a nuisance here, but you’re not really doing anything to keep me out.”

“Because where else would you go?”

“Technically, I have a room back at the Institute.”

“Yeah, but because you’re so stupid and reckless that you got kicked out of your own home,” you spat out, and you watch as Satoru raises a brow at your statement. Banter is common between the both of you, but something about the intensity of your gaze lets him know you’re serious this time around. “I don’t even know how Yuuji puts up with you. That poor Megumi is right when he says you’re insufferable. You’re good for nothing!”

Satoru scoffs, “Fine, if you hate me that much, why didn’t you just say so earlier? I could easily pack my bags and go since I’m just making everything harder—” Satoru doesn’t get to finish what he’s saying when your hand over the counter that acts as support slips under you, and you fall, legs bent awkwardly while you scream, preparing yourself for the impact. The pan is long forgotten, your only thought was oh my god, so this is how I die.

But it never came, and you keep your eyes shut tight even as warm hands cup your ass. Satoru is breathing hard under you. Finally gaining the courage to crack an eye open, your breath halts when you see that he’s sitting on the floor, with you safely nestled between him.

Satoru has always had pretty eyes, but it’s rare he takes off his blindfold off even when he’s home. This is one of those rare occurrences that he seems like a normal human, dressed in a gray sweatshirt that hands low from his collarbones and magnetic blue eyes staring right back at you. His touch is gentle, almost as if he’s afraid to hurt you, and his voice that is usually loud and teasing comes out breathy and hesitant.

“Are you okay?”

Your gaze drops down to his lips. He’s close, so close, that if you just lean a little closer you could – you snap out of your daze. “Get off me.”

“Cupcake, you’re the one who’s on top of me,” his voice falls an octave lower, eyes flitting down to your clothing – or rather the lack of it – before Satoru takes a deep breath. “Did you really have to wear that?”

“I have the right to wear whatever I want in the comfort of my own home.”

“I wasn’t complaining,” he raised a brow, this time completely in control of himself as he gazes back up at you with a burning gaze. You see nothing but the way one corner of his lips tilt up, almost teasing, and he looks so much like a shit-eater that you feel heat crawl down your spine.

You push yourself off him but your bent foot behind you slips, and you fall forward with your hands clutching his strong shoulders. Satoru catches your leg behind you, drags it forward until your knee is pressed in between one of your warmth, very much still enjoying the way you wriggle away from his hold. He knows his effect on you – but you deny this wholeheartedly.

“Careful, cupcake. This isn’t a slip and slide.”

“I hate you so much,” you bare your teeth at him, slapping his chest until he finally lets go of you. Turning your back to him, you pick up the pan and begin preparing your dinner, muttering curses under your breath as you heat up the stove. “I’m kicking you out tomorrow.”

“Why not now?”

“Eat your damn dinner first.”

Dinner after that is awkward. Although Gojo is someone who can wolf down his meal in three seconds, he takes his time in eating to start conversation with you. Sometimes he asks decent questions like how your day was or he’d talk about something stupid, but he’s quiet the whole time. He even volunteers to do the dishes before retreating to his room, coating the house in silence.

It almost feels like you’re all alone over again.

You’ve gotten so used to him being an utter mess everywhere that when he’s not trying to piss you off and actually giving you the much needed peace, you begin to hate it. Memories of the rude things you’ve said to him a while ago play and in your head, and you bang your head against the wall repeatedly.

How are you supposed to apologize to Satoru now?

The answer doesn’t come until you stare at your walls, wide awake at midnight. The house is still eerily silent and you don’t stop shuffling around your bed in discomfort. Many times, you wished that Satoru would shut up and leave you alone, but now that he’s actually done that, it feels weird. Uncomfortable. It feels wrong.

With a grunt, you kick off the sheets and carefully tread to his room, knocking lightly in case he’s already sleeping. “Satoru?” you call out, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. “Are you awake?”

You’ve seen Satoru angry as kids before, but what would he be like now? Would he still want to be your friend? Would he still annoy you by hiding your things somewhere you can’t reach? Or would he be the who is now out of reach? If he leaves...who’s going to walk you to work? Who’s going to complain he doesn’t want to do groceries but buys you things you don’t ask for but want anyway? Who’s going to keep teasing the living daylights out of you if not him?

All these thoughts claw at the back of your mind until your bottom lip trembles. You hate how weak you feel; how you’re never careful with your words.

You never meant it when you said all that.

Your train of thought is cut off when the door swings open, revealing an equally tired-looking Satoru. At the sight of you peering up at him with glossy eyes, he pushes the door wider and steps closer to you, his large hands cupping your face as he leans down in worry. “Cupcake,” his brows pinch together, “Did something happen? Is something wrong?”

“I just wanted to apologize for everything I said,” you blurt out, “I was just tired from work and my boss was being shitty, so I wasn’t totally myself that time and I’m really sorry I took my anger out on you. I didn’t mean it when I said you’re insufferable and that I’m kicking you out so – yeah,” you breathe out, trailing your gaze downwards to stare at your feet instead. It’s difficult to look him in the eye right now. When you finally gain courage to speak again, it barely comes out as a whimper, your hands delicately tugging at his shirt. “Please stay. I like having my best friend around here.”

Satoru doesn’t answer.

You’re about to look up at him just in case you’ve said something wrong, or worse, he refuses to forgive you, but then – “Yeah, I know you wouldn’t kick me out. You’re too much of a darling to say no to me.”

Sigh. Satoru laughs when he sees your shoulders deflate, absolutely shattered in exhaustion. Hiding your smile to now show him you’re relieved, you punch his chest that really feels like a fly had accidentally flew into him. “Way to ruin the mood, Satoru. And here I thought I could have a serious conversation with you for once.”

“Apology accepted,” he beams, tilting your chin upwards so you could look at him. Even in the darkness of his room, his eyes glow, leaving you hypnotized in its beauty. “Plus, I think I’m the one who should apologize. You’re right; I haven’t been the best roommate and I am a freeloader,” he scratches the side of his head in thought. “But I do buy you food all the time though.”

“Yeah, with my money,” you counter, but you don’t really care anymore at this point. You’re beyond elated you’re both fine now, and you shyly gesture to his big, warm bed that suddenly looks so comfortable. “Can I stay here for tonight?”

“You want Satoru’s bear hug?”

“Yes, I do.” There’s no hesitation in your words and you don’t complain anymore when he easily picks you up like a ragdoll using only one arm. He’s surprisingly gentle when he places you both down on the bed, sheets warm and soft as it blankets over you.

It would be perfect – except it’s so damn awkward.

Gojo’s long limbs are everywhere. Your face is pressed into his chest, both your legs tangled together. His arm is sprawled over the curve of your hip, his hand nearly grazing your ass that’s barely covered by the thin material of your shorts, but if he shifts, he’ll end up cupping the back of your thighs which is equally uncomfortable.

He seems to be stuck in the same position because you’re so small, and your knees are grazing his groin. Had he known you’re going to sleep with him, he would’ve worn underwear or even boxers under his sweatpants.

He’s never told you before, but he prefers to sleep in the nude. Satoru only picked up the nearest pair of pants when he heard you knock, and even then, he didn’t have the time to wear a shirt.

Your breath is hot on his skin and he’s so sensitive and aware of all your movements. Satoru clears his throat awkwardly, shifting until his arm lightly holds your back instead, but then he pulls away as if he’s touched fire when he’d unknowingly fiddled with your bra clasp instead. It’s so painfully awkward that Satoru chuckles above you, while you scrunch your nose, silently praying to the heavens above that he won’t hear how loud your heart is beating right now.

“Why is it so hot in your own room?”

“Maybe it’s time you get me an AC.”

“You wish, Satoru,” you mumble beneath him, making yourself as comfortable as you can with your cheek resting on his bicep. It’s not the softest pillow considering he’s pretty muscular, but he’s warm and smells like mint spice nevertheless. “You’re really not going to put on a shirt?”

Satoru sighs, a long and loud one that is extended for dramatic purposes. Suddenly, he pushes your knee off of him, grimacing and thanking the darkness that you can’t see how much he’s struggling right now. “Cupcake, this is hard for me as much as it is for you. You’re barely wearing anything.”

“Since when have you cared about what I wear?”

“I’m a man, Y/N,” is what he reasons with, “You’re lucky it’s me. Had it been someone else and you crawled into their bed wearing these—” Satoru pinches the waistband of your shorts, and you squeal in protest, only making him laugh afterwards before he lets it go and the material snaps back at your skin, “—poor excuse of what you call shorts, I can’t guarantee they’ll give you a peaceful night.”

You know exactly what he’s trying to hint at. Still, it’s hard to believe that Satoru is capable of seeing you that way.

It’s not that you feel you’re unattractive. You know you’re pretty and have been out on many dates, but it’s easy to feel that you’re not sexy when you have the height of a thirteen year old and you’ve been constantly chastised about it.

Satoru’s not-compliment compliment has your heart skipping a beat, and you scoff in response. “Shut up,” you warn lamely, “I want to sleep.”

“Then let’s sleep, cupcake.” You don’t know if it’s because you’re utterly exhausted that you doze off seconds later or if Satoru’s words just held power in them, but soon all thoughts of anything unwanted drifts out the window, his arms keeping you close, completely safe and sound until the worst nightmares couldn’t even come close.

Hot. It’s extremely hot.

You crack an eye open to try and find the source of this uncomfortable heat, but you freeze when you realize you can’t feel your muscles from the chin down. Panic rises in your throat once you see the current predicament you’re in, and a scream rips through your throat so loud that the birds outside scurry away in a flurry.

You’re wrapped in Satoru’s blanket and comforter, rendering you unable to move because of how he’d treated you like a burrito wrap. Even your toes are captured inside this hell, and only your head is able to wriggle side to side.

“Satoru!”

The culprit comes out of the shower a split second later, his hair dripping wet and only a towel hanging low from his lips. If you weren’t so hell-bent on killing him, you would’ve been speechless at the way water drips from his hair down to the curves of his abs, going down down down into a place only your darkest imaginations could take you.

Satoru bends over in laughter as he whips out his phone, jumping from angle to angle and side to side to take photos of you. “Fuck,” he howls, slapping his thigh while you snarl in an attempt to break free. “You’re a lot cuter than I thought you’d be.”

“Satoru! Get me out of here!”

“No, this is way too gold. I’m sending these to my students.”

“Satoru, I’m serious!” The devil incarnate himself falls deaf to your please.

Maybe it’s because the violent intent has coursed through your veins so strongly that a surge of energy and strength overcomes you, and soon, you’ve rolled out of the blanket. The fresh air nipping at your heated skin is most welcomed, but right now, you had a mission to fulfil: obliterate Gojo Satoru.

The platinum haired man is still laughing to himself, too distracted in scrolling through the best photos to send to his students that he doesn’t notice you escaping and zooming straight right at him.

The momentum is enough to catch him off guard until you end up on top of him, short arms clawing your way through to snatch his phone. Satoru yelps when his phone lands out into the living room and your hands come down to choke him. You don’t have plans to kill him, but you want to hurt him enough to remind him you’re not someone he can fuck with.

You’ve just about had enough of this man and you’re so sick of him!

Satoru yells out a “Hey!” when you let out a battle cry, using your legs to kick him back when he tries to sit up. Your plan backfires when your hands slip down his wet skin and you fall face forwards, hands barely touching the ground for support when your lips come crashing down on his.

He stills underneath you. It takes a moment for you to realize that holy shit, you’re kissing him and his lips are so soft that has you scrambling back, but Satoru doesn’t let you.

His large hand comes up at the back of your neck to pull you forward. The sudden movement makes you gasp, and Satoru slips his tongue inside when you do so. You no longer remember how you got here or try to make sense of what’s going on, because he feels so good, tastes so good that you bury your nails in his hair while he ravishes your mouth.

You’re so tiny that his hand cups your entire buttcheek almost possessively, a low growl emanating deep in his throat when your tongue eagerly intertwines with his. Satoru tastes like heaven and everything about the kiss is sloppy – tongue clashing with one another and teeth nibbling at the other’s lips. It’s clear both of you can’t get enough of one another as you moan in his mouth, shamelessly grinding on his crotch, suddenly thankful that you’re always wearing thin clothes when you feel him harden underneath you.

“Fuck, baby,” he pulls away to breathe, a string of saliva connecting the both of you. “Yeah, just like that,” There’s something empowering about the way he pants at your ministrations, especially when you roll your hips faster across his erection. “Keep going, baby, you’re doing – fuck – so well.”

You smirk at his praises, latching your teeth on his neck to suck marks on them. Satoru groans at the same time you muffle your moans through his skin, his hands sliding under your shirt to tug the cups of your bra down. You nearly lose it when he pinches your nipple, bolts of electricity running down your spine at the contact. A moan breaks through your lips just as you come right there and then, the wetness of your sudden orgasm barely hidden in your flimsy underwear.

“Feel good?” he teases and drags your shirt down to the other side, but the post-nut clarity hits. And when it does, it hits hard.

Fuck. You just came from Satoru’s simple touches, and he’s so unsatisfied, still painfully hard underneath you but nothing but panic and regret washes over you like a strong tidal wave. Suddenly, you grow lightheaded as you push yourself off him, fixing your bra while ignoring the confused and hurt look on his face.

“I gotta go to work,” you run out the room, feeling your body tremble as Satoru runs after you. “Make yourself breakfast. I’ll eat on the way out.”

“Y/N, wait!”

You know you’ve just ruined everything – that nothing will ever be the same after that – but you’re scared, utterly and remorsefully so, that you slam the door right in his face as if you don’t have any idea how much you broke him.

You’ll never forget the way Satoru’s face fell when you left.

Just as you thought, nothing is the same after that. The tension is so thick around the apartment you make an effort and go out of your way just to avoid him and the apartment completely.

It’s cowardly – you know this much – but do you ever try to fix the friendship you cherish but shattered completely? You don’t. You don’t because it only crashes down onto you now that maybe your feelings for him aren’t just platonic, after all. It’s even worse because you touch yourself at the thought of him filling you up when he’s asleep, all because you want him so bad and the mere presence of him has your brain malfunctioning.

It isn’t entirely sexual either. Yes, you want to fuck him badly, but it scares you down to the core even more because you want so much more than that.

Now you understand why you always say he’s a bother but never asked him to leave. It’s because you like him, actually romantically interested in him. It makes sense now why you always felt so annoyed whenever your co-workers asked for his number, or how you’re immediately pissed off when Satoru talks about this hot woman he saw at work. You always chalk it up to an excuse you just hate how he can’t keep in his pants, but it isn’t true at all.

It’s because you actually like him – and you’re at a loss on what to do or how to deal with it.

The next few days feels like hell. Satoru isn’t stupid; he knows you’re avoiding him. He stops teasing you eventually and even buys takeout all the time when you lock yourself up in your room right after work, refusing to cook dinner or even eat all so you’d be spared the torture of looking at him.

He’d knock at your door and ask you to eat, but other than that, he’s respected your distance.

You feel like the most terrible person on earth. You don’t miss the way dark circles line under his eyes or how he’s lost his spark, barely even speaking to you when you’ve come or about to leave for work.

You’re alone the whole ride, as well, and it only dawns on you how lonely you are when Satoru isn’t always annoying you all the time.

But it doesn’t make sense. Why is he so bothered by it? Didn’t he regret it? It’s painfully clear you’re not Satoru’s type. You’ve seen the women he dated before, and you’re not close to them so why does he seem like he’s struggling with this as well? Or maybe...he’s just sad that his friend is avoiding him.

Yeah, that has to be it.

Satoru is a man. He was probably turned on at that time, but after giving some thought about it, he probably wants to keep his distance too. He’d be insane if he ever actually wants to date you – his best friend out of all people – because he’s Gojo Satoru and he could literally have everyone else.

You don’t care that you’re a coward.

You don’t care that Satoru is sad to see you this way.

You don’t care because you know he’ll reject you, you know he’ll be weirded if you admit your feelings for him. To him, you’re like his little sister. There’s just no way you two would work out. For now, you have to get comfortable with the uncomfortable. You just need some time to get over your feelings for him, and when you’re confident you won’t fall for him again, you’ll mend your friendship.

You just need time.

“So, Y/N, you still don’t want to give us your friend’s number?”

“Yeah, Y/N, you should share it,” your co-worker encourages by jabbing her shoulder to yours. It’s a lazy Friday night and the staff went out for dinner. You don’t usually come to these hangouts since dinner with Satoru is always much more fun, but he’s the last person you want to think about now, so you happily join them. Now, though, you’re starting to regret ever coming here. “If he’s really single like you said, then it shouldn’t be a big deal to ask for it.”

“Well, since you want it so badly, why don’t you ask him directly for it instead?” you snap, feeling anger begin to trickle. All you wanted was just one day where you don’t have to think of him, but of course they had to bring him up. It’s also annoying how they can never seem to get the message across that you don’t want them dating him. “Why do I have to be the messenger?”

“We haven’t seen him much. Doesn’t he always walk you to work?”

“He’s been busy with his job, that’s all.” And also because I’m avoiding him – so now he’s avoiding me too.

“He’s a teacher, right?”

“Oh, come on, guys, don’t be so dense,” your senpai chugged her drink rather loudly, catching the attention of your nosy co-workers who wouldn’t stop pestering you for his number. “Look at how uncomfortable she looks. It’s obvious she doesn’t want you guys to be involved with her friend for a reason. Think of how weird it is for her too if ever her co-worker and best friend dated. She’s going to feel like a third wheel.”

“I’m not—”

“That makes sense,” your co-worker nodded beside you, “Are you sure you just don’t like him though?”

“Ew, why would I?” the food began to taste bitter through your lies, “He may be tall and attractive, but as his roommate, I’ve seen his ugly side. Satoru is a complete slob and can’t even cook to save his life.”

“I don’t mind cooking for him all the time if I were to be his little housewife.”

“That’s never gonna happen,” your words came out harsher than it was, and you laugh it off with a wave of your hand when your co-workers’ eyes widened. “I’ve been living with him for six months and he’s never brought anyone home or told me he’s going on a date. I told you already, he’s a no strings attached kind of guy. He’s nothing but a one night stand.”

“You have to admit he’s still sexy though.”

Right. You hide your groan through another shot because there’s no way of convincing them otherwise. As much as you hate to admit, you’re actually jealous on how freely they could talk about him like that, but then again, it’s not like you and Satoru were dating – or would ever date, for that matter.

They start to leave one by one when it starts to get late, leaving only you who’s still desperate to avoid Satoru. Nothing prepares you for when the sky darkens and a storm comes pouring just as you’ve left the closing shop, the rain drenching and soaking your clothes through and through. Running under the nearest tree for shelter, you shiver. It’s cold – way too cold – and curse yourself for not bringing a darned umbrella.

The nearest bus stop is like what, fifteen to twenty minutes away? Your teeth are chattering and your legs are shaking, and you fumble through your phone as you dial a number you know by heart before you even realize what you’re doing. “S-Satoru?”

“Y/N,” the surprise is unmasked in his voice, something shuffling in the background before it falls silent. “Is everything okay?”

“Uhm, are you busy right now? It’s fine if you are, I’m just—”

“I’m training with Yuuji, but what is it?”

“Listen, I,” you inhale sharply when coldness bursts through your body, making you shiver and press yourself closer to tree to get away from the rain. Above you, thunder crackles before the rain grows heavier and angrier. “I forgot to bring an umbrella and I’m absolutely soaked right now. The nearest bus stop is fifteen minutes away and all the buildings here look so shady—”

“I’ll be on my way. Text me where you are,” You nod and thank him, too cold and numb to realize you’ve just broken days of silence. You lose track of time under there, hugging yourself until your lips turn blue. It doesn’t take long before Satoru shows up minutes later, his hair equally drenched and sticking flat to his eyes free from his blindfold while he pants, hand on his knees. “Thank goodness you’re safe. I rushed here so fast I forgot to bring an umbrella.”

After seeing Satoru drenched like that, something snaps within you. He doesn’t seem bothered by the fact the rain is unforgiving as it slaps the pavement, and your heart breaks when you see that he’s more concerned for you – even after you’ve given him the silent treatment. “You idiot! Now you’re soaking wet too, you’re going to get sick!”

“Highly unlikely,” he shrugs. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

“But what about—” Satoru suddenly carries you before draping his coat over your head, running until he found a cab to hail. He immediately asks the driver to turn up the heater while you tremble on top of him, not caring anymore that you’re sticking so close to him for heat.

Satoru doesn’t let you go all the way inside the apartment. He sets you down on the couch where you take off your wet clothes in haste, too cold with teeth chattering that you silently take the hoodie and boxers Satoru offers you, making sure to keep his gaze averted the whole time. Once fully dressed, you snuggle back into the sofa’s comfort, stiffening when the couch dips beside you.

Not a moment later, Satoru towel-dries your hair, leaving your mouth and throat dry with guilt. Even after you’ve unnecessarily been a bitch to him, he’s still so kind with you.

“Thank you for coming.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“Satoru...” you twiddle with your thumbs just as he starts to ruffle the towel in your hair, making sure to squeeze water out of the strands as he dries it. “About what happened the other day—”

“It didn’t happen if you don’t want it to,” his voice is cold’ monotonous and so emotionless you’re rendered speechless. “You can forget about it.”

“I...”

“You regret it, right?” he’s done with drying your hair, and he stands up to place the wet towels in the sink as you watch him stride all the way there. He’s changed his clothes too; looking comfortable in a plain white shirt and some grey sweatpants, looking every bit the domestic boyfriend you’ve always wanted but can never have. “It’s fine. We can forget about it and go back to normal,” to emphasize his point, Satoru winks at you, though it does nothing but make your heart sink.

“What if I don’t want to forget it?” your voice is small; hesitant and wavering with fear. “What if...the only reason I pulled away is because I wanted more of you?”

Satoru’s back freezes as he sets the towel aside. At this point, your heart is pulsing on your tongue, and you dig your nails onto your thighs when Satoru sits down next to you, right next to you. He’s silent the whole time; eyes calculatedly piercing through yours. Your breath hitches when his hands that are burning hot against your cold skin cups your jaw before his thumb runs across your lips, his eyes turning dark at your reactions.

“And what if I said I felt the same way?”

“I,” you gasp, closing your eyes because it all feels so surreal. “I like you, Satoru. I like you a lot and I—” he doesn’t let you finish. Soon, you find yourself in his lap with his hands cupping your cheeks while he smashes his lips onto yours.

Satoru is absolutely feral. He’s breathing hard and almost angry, even, with the way his teeth are biting down to nibble on your lips. You moan when he drags you closer, your clothed centre rubbing on his thigh with delicious friction. “You have no idea,” he rasps down on your lips, “how much I’ve fucking liked you ever since we were kids,” Satoru pushes his hoodie aside, revealing your sweet neck to him, and he doesn’t waste his time in sucking and abusing the poor flesh so he can mark you as his. “I’ve always wanted you, Y/N, it’s always you, always you.”

You fist his hoodie when Satoru sinks his teeth down into the juncture of your neck, his hands curious and exploring every inch of your body. He knows you’re naked underneath his clothes, but it’s a different thing when he actually feels your breasts right on his palm. Satoru tweaks the hardened bud in his fingers, growling when you moan at the contact and use his thigh to get off.

“You—” you gasp as you expose your neck to him, wild and needy as you keep rubbing your heat over his thigh. “—talk way too fucking much,” you scold, finally pushing his lips away from your neck. Satoru chuckles at your eagerness but you silence him by flinging his boxers off of your body and somewhere far away, exposing your heat slick with arousal right in front of him. His pupils blow in excitement, hands coming up to grab at your hips, but his attention is taken away when you nibble on his ear to whisper, “Shut up and fuck me.”

The simple command is enough to make his patience snap. In a flash, you’re pinned underneath him, whining and moaning when his finger meets no resistance as he slips it inside. “You’re that needy, huh?” he laughs even louder when you lose it, humping yourself on his finger because it’s not enough.

“Satoru,” you beg, clutching his bicep when he adds another finger in. “More.”

His fingers are so long, hitting places that your small ones could never reach. He begins to scissor his way in, his fingers deliciously rubbing against your velvety walls while pumping them inside and out in a speed that causes you to squelch around him.

It’s absolutely lewd how you’re eagerly spread out before him, but your head is clouded with lust, no longer hindered by shyness out of your need to cum. Your chest is rising heavily, his thumb now rubbing against your clit as he coaxes you to cum. “Tell me what you want, baby,” he kisses your cheeks, eyelids, nose, anywhere but your lips, his voice so gentle and innocent as if he’s not knuckle deep inside you. “Tell me how you want me.”

“Inside,” you whine, gasping when he brushes against a really sensitive spot that has you clamping down on him. “‘Toru, fuck, just fuck me.”

“Beg for it,” he smiles against your skin, relentless and harsh as he keeps pushing inside you. You feel him everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Another finger adds in until you’re dripping enough on his palm and staining the couch, but neither of you care. “I said, beg for it.”

“No,” you hold back, nearly crying out when he pulls your fingers out of you. That sudden emptiness is back again, but you don’t want to beg. You’ve never begged another man before, and this won’t be the first time you’ll be doing so either. You refuse to let him have the upper hand despite the crystal clear fact you’re already soaking wet for him, but because you’re stubborn, you only fumble with his sweatpants to spring his cock free.

He’s already dripping with pre-cum from the slit, his cock hard and angry. Despite his arousal, Satoru stops you from going further, using only one hand to trap both your wrists. “Beg for it,” he demands again, his other fist already pumping down on his shaft.

You nearly cry at the sight. Both of you are aware that Satoru is capable of pleasuring himself, but it’s not that easy for you. Your small, dainty fingers will never be parallel to the pleasure his long cock could give you. All you had to do was beg for it. He’s right there, within reach, if only you’d just –

Impatient for your answer, Satoru takes you by the hips and discards your hoodie in the process, sinking you down his cock, inch by delicious inch. You don’t hold back from the sensual and high-pitched moan that leaves your lips. He’s long, and the tip of his cock just about brushes your cervix when he bottoms out. He feels so good, so warm and huge and filling you up right where you want him to be. Your head falls down on his shoulder as you begin to roll your hips, but Satoru has had enough.

“Fuck, look at you,” he presses on the bulge of his cock visible through your abdomen. “You’re so fucking small – how do you take me so well? I could ruin you. Do you want that? Do you want me to ruin you?”

“Yes, yes, fuck.”

“You think you can just leave me hanging like that, huh?” he slaps your ass, eliciting another moan from you and making you clench around his cock. Satoru falters for a moment. Before you can react, he stands up, your legs wrapped around his waist with nothing but his tip hitting inside you. “You’ve been so fucking mean – leaving me wanting you like that and ignoring me for days. Do you think you deserve this, huh?” Satoru kicks his door open at the same time he loosens his hold around your ass, making you slide down his length the next second.

“Oh, fuck,” you cry out just as Satoru begins to bounce you, your breasts following the motion of him fucking deep into you. “Fuck, Toru, that’s too—”

He’s so eager to fuck you, to make a mess out of you and have you losing your mind over his cock that he doesn’t even wait until you’re both on the bed. You no longer register when your back hits the pillow, or how your arms are frozen when he pins it above your head.

“You’re so beautiful,” he praises as he watches you clench around him. You’re so small and his eyes zero in on the way your abdomen bulges then flattens again every time he pounds into you, rolling his hips in a way that has you screaming and thighs quaking. “Beautiful, beautiful, perfect,” the moment his hands grip at your hips to pin you down, you know he’s not going to stop. And you don’t want him to.

Satoru latches his lips around your right breast, gently grazing his teeth over it while his other hand pinches and rolls the pebbled nipple between his fingers. He feels so good – and you’re crying already by the time you wrap your legs around him to pull him closer.

The room is filled with the smell of sex, the sound of skin slapping against skin combined with his breathy grunts and your moans like heaven on his ears. Satoru wants you to feel how much he loves you – how much he adores you – and the pace he sets is torturous. He snaps his hips against yours and presses down on the bulge of his cock through your belly, chuckling when you tighten more around him.

Your head lols to the side, tears falling down your pretty face because of how rough he’s being. But you don’t complain, not when he’s filling you in so deep and he’s kissing you everywhere, touching you everywhere, making you feel nothing else and nobody else but him.

“You’re amazing,” he rasps, watching the way your tight cunt sucks him in greedily as if you don’t want him to go anywhere else. “You take me in so well – you really want me to destroy you, huh?”

“Satoru, please,” you finally plead, “I-I’m cumming, I want you, I need you, oh,” you squeal when he finally lets your arms free. You look so precious, so innocent, and he doesn’t let up his pace. He plants his feet into the ground and his strokes begin to grow sloppy, your tight walls encouraging him to go faster, go deeper.

If possible, Satoru is only even more fuelled with the way you look so precious and innocent in that moment. His touch is gentle in comparison to the way he’s mercilessly plowing into you, using his thumb to wipe away the tears streaming down your cheeks. He knows he’s too big for you, that much is obvious from how much you’re already overstimulated just by his size, but your nails sink down on the flesh of his ass as a silent plead for more.

“Fuuuuck, I’m so close!”

“Yeah?” He fondled your clit, loving the sight of your small body creaming down on his cock. “Come for me, sweet girl. I want to feel you coming on my cock. Come on, tell me you’re mine. You’re made me for aren’t you?”

“Yes, Satoru, fuck,” you squeal, throwing your head back for a second when he keeps hitting your g-spot that has you seeing stars. Your toes curl and your hands fist the sheets behind you as he keeps impaling you with his cock right then and there.

You looked perfect; so perfect to him that he’s basically using you for his own pleasure at this moment. Your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, back arching and nipples brushing against his chest.

In that moment, you grow needy to have him even closer, tilting up to blindly search for his lips. Satoru complies; leaning down and leaving open mouthed breathy kisses that’s a mix of you moaning and crying around him, while he struggles to do so when he’s cursing at the feeling of you coating his cock with your juices. Satoru looks down at your tiny frame trapped in his arms, his voice husky as he groans once he saw both of your arousal absolutely leaking out of your wet cunt.

He’s so close but you’re already over the edge, scratching at his back at the overstimulation. You’re still so sensitive from when you came and Satoru doesn’t slow one down one bit. He loses his rhythm as his thrusts go sloppy, and Satoru buries his face in your neck as his cock twitches inside you until he bursts with his cum leaking out of your hole.

Satoru’s arms give out beneath you, his chest colliding with yours but not enough that he’s crushing you with his weight. You’re both breathing hard and panting, his dick softening inside you.

He pulls back a moment later to slide out his sensitive cock, wincing while he watches pools of cum gather in your pussy before it drips out. It isn’t until he’s witnessing the mess he’s made he realizes how you’ve been so good for him; taking him all the way in despite your quivering frame. It dawns on him now just how tiny you are when he pulls you close to him; you’re practically hanging off his chest with how small your body is.

He wonders how you’re able to fit all of him, but he’s grateful nevertheless. Satoru shows his appreciation by peppering kisses all over your face, his hand snaking down to caress your inner thighs.

“Hmm,” you moan into the kiss, jolting when his knuckles brush against your sensitive clit. “Satoru, no,” you whine while pushing his hand away, and he shushes you with another kiss. “’M too sensitive, please...”

“It’s fine, cupcake, it’s fine,” his nickname for you is back again, and you lean closer to him just as he begins to massage your sore legs. “You did so well for me, cupcake, you know that? You’re such a good girl for me,” too fucked out to have a comprehensive answer, you only nod in response, spreading your legs open again and ignoring the warm stickiness between your thighs as Satoru kneads your abused flesh. You feel him kiss your temple before he leaves to get a towel and cleans you up. Meanwhile, you’re so tired you’re about to doze out in his bed.

“Hey,” he soothes, bundling you up in his arms until you’re tucked in the safety of his body. So small, he coos inside his head, watching as you fold yourself even smaller while your eyes flutter. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you sigh into his shoulder, “I feel good. Thank you.”

Satoru doesn’t really know what you’re thanking him for. He feels like he’s the one who’s mostly indebted to you after everything you’ve done for him. You’ve already fallen asleep before he gets the chance to tell you how he feels, so Satoru only covers you both under his blanket, making sure there’s no more space between you out of fear you’ll distance yourself from him again.

But he doesn’t have to worry about that because you’re right next to him, and you’re never out of reach.

[oro-e-diamanti]

The one where Ethan is pretending

Description | When you bump into Ethan in Paris, you fail to mention that you know exactly who he is. You’re not sure how long you’ll be able to keep it up when he asks you out for a drink.

Content | Fluff

Pairing | Ethan x gn!Reader (with the exception of one female pet name)

Word Count | 2071

Taglist | @ginny-lily @ethaneskin @tabi-toast @mywritingonlyfans

***

There was no way you were staying in the same place that Måneskin had just arrived at. There was no way, you kept telling yourself. Paris was a massive city, the number of available hotels in the hundreds, maybe thousands if you had to guess. And yet, somehow, you had managed to pick the one place one of your new favourite obsessions would spend their time. You knew it didn't mean much, the hotel had more than a couple of rooms and with your luck, you wouldn't even catch a glimpse of them. But as you kept scrolling through Instagram, seeing pictures of people meeting the four Italians in front of the place you had checked into mere days ago, you couldn't fight a little bubble of excitement forming in your chest.

Well, you told yourself you wouldn't get your hopes up. And you definitely wouldn't hang around in front of the hotel or in the lobby. You had booked your solo trip to Paris months ago, after dreaming about visiting the city for most of your life, and you would be damned if you wouldn't stick to your itinerary and enjoy your holiday. However - you had gotten up at what felt like dawn to go queue up for the Louvre and spent the last couple of hours there, so you decided that a nap was the way to go if you wanted to continue exploring the city in the evening. Fortunately, the walk back to the hotel wasn't long.

You had made it to the last corner before entering the street you were aiming for, when two giggling girls ran past you, unceremoniously bumping your shoulder and sending you tumbling. You were fully expecting to hit the ground, but instead, a pair of strong arms caught you and brought you back to your feet. A pair of strong arms belonging to a strong chest that you came face-to-face with, belonging to a gorgeous face, belonging to Ethan Torchio.

"Tu vas bien?" His broad French accent confused you, momentarily forgetting about the little detail that you were, in fact, in France, as you stared at the drummer in front of you, who was still protectively holding onto your upper arms.

"Huh?" Was the immensely intelligent answer that thus left your mouth.

"Oh, not French?"

"No, definitely not French." You finally said, taking a step back from him to avoid the increasing awkwardness you were feeling about being touched by him, while the two girls who had previously knocked you down were now lingering around the two of you suspiciously, not coming close enough to be rude, but obviously desperate to get their own piece of Ethan. "No, just a tourist."

"Me too," Ethan smiled. "A tourist, I mean. Well, kind of. I'm here with my band so it's not like we have time to do a lot of sightseeing."

He briefly turned around to look at the two girls who still seemed frustrated at you hogging his time and gave a small wave before turning back to you. It was the movement that made you realise he had the most gorgeous red rose tucked into the waistband of his trousers. Well, it used to be the most gorgeous rose - after your little crash, it had bent in the middle, the top hanging only by a thread, in the most miserable fashion.

"Oh, no I am so sorry!" You gasped, carefully grasping the delicate petals that were on the verge of breaking off. "I must have crashed into it when you caught me."

"Don't worry about it," Ethan said, softly, and pulled the stem from his waistband. The flower looked even more tragic now, in all its crushed glory. "A fan gave it to me a few minutes ago."

"Huh?" You surely proved yourself articulate in this conversation. You mentally hit yourself, angry at yourself for being so easily flustered.

"There are a few fans waiting in front of our hotel, because we're in a ... band ... and things."

Apparently, your awkwardness was contagious. Also, it was becoming increasingly obvious that Ethan thought that you had no idea who he was.

"Let me get you a new one," you suggested. "There's a flower shop just two doors down from the hotel - I mean, I am staying there, too, so I know."

He smiled at you with a serenity and calmness that had your heart soaring. You decided you'd be willing to buy him a million roses if only he kept smiling at you like that for a little longer.

"Well, I've got to go now, but it would be rude to refuse your offer. Meet you in the bar of the hotel at 8 tonight?"

No way this was happening. You almost gasped, but at the last moment managed to keep your cool, outwardly. On the inside, you were a mess. Bumping into the drummer of one of your favourite bands was a wonderful chance meeting as it was - but this almost sounded like a date. Now, of course, Ethan wouldn't be asking you out on a date. That would be ridiculous. But there was also no way you would miss out on a chance to meet him again. Preferably without those two giggling girls that were still standing behind him, watching every move of your interaction but luckily too far away to hear what you were saying.

"It's a d- uh, deal," you quickly recovered before almost spitting out the word date instead. Ethan chuckled.

"Right, see you later, then, for our... deal."

He had seen right through you anyway, you thought. But he was still laughing, so it wasn't all that bad - right?

With another quick touch to your upper arm, Ethan walked past you, turning around just one last time.

"My name is Ethan, by the way. You can tell me yours tonight."

Oh, you would.

***

The rest of the day was... well, restless. You couldn't nap because your mind was a whirlwind and your stomach was twisting with excitement. So instead, you had made sure to get the prettiest red rose you could find in the flower shop down the street - while slightly wincing at the price that a shop in the center of the city of love demanded - and put it in a glass the hotel receptionist had been nice to give to you. Then you had decided that there was no way you would manage to relax before 8, so you allowed yourself a few hours simply wandering through the city, no real destination, no itinerary for once, just a nice long stroll with nothing but your thoughts.

At five past eight - being slightly late was still cool, right? - you did a quick check-up in the mirror, realised you were not going to get any happier with your appearance whatever you tried to do at this point, grabbed the rose from its makeshift vase, and left your room.

It only took you a second to see him when you entered the little bar on the ground floor of the hotel. Even in the dim light, the white blouse that he had already been wearing when you met for the first time stood out like a sore thumb. Long dark hair fell over his back in a silky fashion. You had never wanted to touch anyone's hair more.

You took one more deep breath and then walked over to Ethan, smile on your face and rose in your hand.

"A rose for the handsome gentleman?"

Ethan almost jumped, apparently not having heard you coming, but quickly a smirk spread over his face while he stood up.

"I'll take the rose and your name, then."

"It's Y/n."

Ethan greeted you with a soft kiss to your cheek, before taking the rose, pulling your chair back, and inviting you to sit. It was almost ridiculously romantic and if it had been anyone else it would have seemed over-the-top and off-putting, but with Ethan it seemed sincere and fitting.

"Glass of wine, Y/n?" He asked as he casually waved the waiter over to your table.

"Just one. I want to get up early tomorrow for some more sightseeing."

***

It didn't end up being just one glass. It ended up another one and then a bottle shared. But it also ended up with three hours of talking, laughing, teasing, and slowly moving your chairs closer together until you were basically sitting on the same side of the table. You had asked him about his band - still trying to cover up that you knew exactly who they were out of pure fear that he'd reject you for being a fan - and he has asked about your job, your life, your family. In fact, you only left the bar when the waiter had started throwing you annoyed looks while demonstratively cleaning the tables around you.

"I'll bring you to your room," Ethan chuckled lightly as you waited for the elevator. His hand was on the small of your back and it was spreading tingles all through your body. You were standing close enough that you could smell his perfume, a light yet musky scent that encapsulated everything about him.

As soon as the elevator doors opened, he lightly pushed you inside and you found yourself not minding him leading you like this. You pressed the button for your floor, leaning against the wall as you studied the man in front of you. He was a thing of beauty, no question about it, and when he smiled down at you the way he was right then and there, he made you feel like one, too.

"I had a lovely evening, Y/n. Is there any chance I could get your number?"

What a question, you thought to yourself. You'd be mad to refuse him!

You dug your phone out of your cluttered bag. You had switched numbers just a few weeks ago and had not yet learned the new digits by heart. Quickly, you switched it on - and your heart sank. Oh crap. You had completely forgotten about this.

The lockscreen of your phone was a picture of Måneskin.

As you looked up, you realized Ethan had seen. And, contrarily to the reaction that you were anticipating, he was wearing a massive grin.

"Ethan, I am so sorry, I should have told you immediately when we met but I kind of just stumbled into this and you were explaining you were in a band and I didn't know how to say-"

"Dolcezza, calm down. I've known all along."

"Wait - what?"

He didn't explain. Instead, he pointed to your bag - your tote bag - your Måneskin tote bag.

You truly felt like the least intelligent life form on earth.

"I've been carrying that around all day, haven't I?"

While your embarrassment grew, face heating up, Ethan grabbed your shoulders and pulled you into his body. His arms tightly wrapped around your body and you could feel his giggles in his chest, as your head was pressed against it. You didn't hesitate in reciprocating, clinging onto his torso, slowly swinging from side to side. Both of you caught in a tipsy stupor.

You only stopped when the elevator arrived at your floor, both of you stumbling out and dragging each other to your door while clinging on. When you reached your room, you let your back lean against it, pulling Ethan along so you were standing face to face, smiling at each other shily and yet never breaking eye contact.

"Why didn't you say anything?" You finally asked. He stroked your cheek, leaving goosebumps. He had now gotten so close that you could feel his breath on your, drowning in each other.

"I liked pretending."

And then he kissed you. Boldly, unafraid and passionate. You melted like putty under him, letting him take control while letting yourself fall, as his lips moved against yours.

You only pulled away enough to get another glance at him, before once again searching your bag, now one-handed, so you never quite had to let go of him. A small triumphant sound escaped you as you located the key card. Holding it up next to your face, you shot the man in front of you another smirk.

"Why don't we keep pretending? At least for tonight."

It wasn't an offer he was going to refuse.

[yesimwriting]

Would you write a Kaz Brekker request where the reader is a bookworm and a crow and basically Kaz asks the reader to read to him as his way of apologizing after a argument that was his fault?

 it ​​a/n i did something kinda similar in a 'promise of rain' blurb,, but this concept is so cute to me:)) love it sm i moved it up my request cue lol

also IM IN COLLEGE NOW!! WHAT?? AND IVE BEEN TO A PARTY! AND IM JOINING A SORORITY AND I DID DRAMA AUDITIONS AND AHH !! SO DIFFERENT! I MISS MY MOM AND SISTER AND DOG AND EVEN MY DAD BUT IM HAPPY HERE!! 

also im a little worried this might not portray kaz superrrrr accurately bc it's been awhile so just let me know,, feedback leads to improvement:)) also kinda set this up for a part 2 bc...well youll see 

--

They've always said a lot of things about him, and I've always heard them. But I've never quite believed them. Sure, I get why the dark things that have flourished in the poisoned soil that is Ketterdam consider Kaz Brekker the darkest thing of all. I understand the nickname 'Dirtyhands' for the gloved criminal who has fooled each crime boss at least once. I understand each terrible thing they've said about him.

But I've never agreed with them. I've never even considered agreeing with them. Until today.

The thought that maybe everything people say about him is correct in a simple context struck me worse than the silence after our argument. It made me feel like both a fool and hypocrite. Kaz and I have had our fair share of spats over the relatively short time we've known each other, but never like this. Never so badly he stormed out of the room before I could. I squeeze the book in my lap even harder, desperate to focus on the words on the pages.

You didn't hurt him. He walked away because he decided you weren't worth the cost of his expensive time. I repeat those thoughts in my mind over and over again, letting them bitter me further. It's a lot easier to be mad than hurt. A lot easier to fuel your pain than try to understand your mistakes. Besides, tiredness is already dredging around in my chest and if I don't calm down a little I won't be able to fall asleep.

I had escalated the fight more than I should have. Knowing Kaz is like performing in a tightrope act. One must always be aware of where they're going. Watching what's in front of them without ever thinking too much about what's beneath or behind them. Today though, when I needed my balance most I chose to fall. I chose to dive, and apparently there was no net.

"Oh, you're doing that thing."

I roll my eyes at Jesper's voice as I fight down a yawn. I wipe my face with the back of my palm before turning. The burning behind my eyes never resulted in full tears, but I feel better after doing so. "What thing?"

"That terribly noble thing where you find it in yourself to take full blame for every single conflict you and boss man fall into." The slight humor in his voice is enough for me to roll my eyes again. "Between you and me, I'm sure the reason he's so angry now is because you didn't do that for once."

I press my lips together as my chin angles itself upwards slightly. "I never do that." He raises an eyebrow. The slight sympathy that colors the look is more offensive than his accusation. "If I pick and choose my battles, it's for good reason."

"Clearly."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He shrugs once before further entering my room. I say nothing when he sits at the foot of my bed. "Oh, you know," Jesper stretches back casually, resting his back against the wall and extending his legs, "You and Kaz--Kaz and you."

Has he been drinking? Perhaps he's not here because of my unusual absence from downstairs after my fight with Kaz but because he's already too tipsy to think right. "What?"

At my confused look he grins, flashing all of his teeth with an arrogance that outshines the whiteness of them. He taps the still open book in my lap. "Let me put it in terms you'll understand." Jesper sits up a little further, amusement clear in his features. "You two make a shameful Elizabeth and Darcy--"

"Oh, shut up," I groan, glaring at him, "This isn't Pride and Prejudice. And Kaz and I," Jesper's smugness returns when I can't quite think of what I want to say, "We're barely friends--we're barely anything, let alone what you're implying."

Jesper pulls his legs up and shoves me gently. "Dearest, y/n," he ignores my glare, "You should know better than anyone that 'barely friends, barely anything' with Kaz is more than it is with anyone else?"

"That doesn't mea--"

"You two say goodnight to each other." Once. Kaz and I said good night to each other in front of Jesper once. How dare he assume it happens regularly? He's right, but that doesn't mean I'm okay with it. "You play cards with him. Not for money, not for skill--"

"It's for practice." The look Jesper gives me is enough to tell me that my defense didn't land.

Damn him for ever finding Kaz and I on one of those strange nights. One of those nights in which he lurks at the stairwell...the one that divides my room and his attic. One of those nights in which it feels like he's a phantom and I'm the only one that can really see him. A night in which we both silently find each other.

I couldn't quite believe it the first time it happened. I'm not exactly a Crow--I don't feel enough a connection to the Dregs to join them without some kind of guarantee--but I was needed for some obscure job. but I was needed for some obscure job. The Crows needed an insider who could blend into high society, and I needed a place to stay away from my father.

It worked. I worked. And with each passing day I found myself enjoying the Crows more and more. That's why I stayed. That's why I started checking the stairwell practically every night, a set of playing cards in my hand.

The first time had been awkward. I couldn't sleep and my room felt too quiet, but the rambunctious club felt too loud and a little unsafe considering the hour. So I settled for the only space in between. When Kaz found me sitting on the steps and playing a solitary card game I had been so stunned by embarrassment I just offered to deal him in. I had been more shocked when he silently accepted my offer.

"Practice?" Jesper repeats. "You were laughing, I heard you."

"That was one time--how do you know we didn't just happen to play cards together the one time you saw it?"

"Because you laughed about a play you considered 'predictable'."

Sighing, I sit up a little straighter. "I'm not having this conversation. Occasionally saying 'goodnight' to someone who lives in the same space I live in and sometimes playing cards with said person because we both happen to be up at a certain time doesn't mean anything."

"And the way he looked at the contact that was flirting with you?"

Oh...this conversation again. "For the last time, the contact wasn't flirting with me. We had to dance to blend in and when he leaned towards me to whisper in my ear...it was to tell me the intel Kaz just had to have."

"And when he tucked that strand of hair behind your ear?"

"He just wanted to sell our cove--"

"Y/n, he kissed your cheek and I'm fairly certain he would have kissed you if Kaz and I hadn't made it to the corridor at that second."

Why is everyone so obsessed with what would have never happened? The contact had been attractive, tall with fair eyes and hair. But it's not like I feel anything for him, nor would I have been so foolish during a job. A fact that Kaz refuses to believe. I'm tired of this argument...I'm just tired. This job required me to start getting ready early in the morning and lasted long into the night.

"I wouldn't have kissed him and even if I had, the fact that Kaz is so mad about feels...sexist." A stupid argument, considering that Kaz couldn't care less if the person he's working with is female, male, or anything in between because the only thing he cares about is profit. "It's a stupid thing to be mad about, but you hit on anything with a pulse at any time and--"

"I resent that--"

"For the first two weeks I was here I thought you might've been a prostitute."

I can feel him holding in a laugh. "Did you at least think I was a good prostitute?" When I glare again, he finally actually laughs. "Not the point--got it."

"Then what is the point? You're bored and obsessed with gossip so now you're shaking me for information you don't need."

"The point is you're oblivious." Rude...I move my leg in a weak attempt to push him off my bed. Jesper catches my ankle easily, ignoring my attempt at a fight. "You thought the contact was only doing his job and you don't know the real reason that Kaz blew up at you for the first time the way he blows up at everyone."

"Okay, well since you know everything, tell me why he's mad."

He lets out a sigh like he can't believe I even needed to ask that. "It's not the best look that the first time you let him pick a fight with you happens to be about some guy."

...Maybe he is drunk? "Don't be so cryptic. I don't like you enough to put up with that."

Jesper half-sighs again before pushing himself off my bed. "I'm going to pretend I think you're smart enough to piece things together from that."

"Asshole," I mumble instinctually as he walks towards my door. "Are you not telling me because I tried to push you off the bed?"

He turns when he reaches my door in order to lean against my door frame. "It's not not because of that." I should throw my book at his head. "In all seriousness, think about it. If you don't you'll either kill each other or kill me."

Ugh...he's so confusing. This time, I let him go. He leaves he door open, which is beyond annoying. I stand up to close it, promising myself I will focus on my book the second it's in my hands again. As I walk back towards my bed, my eyes land on the deck of cards on my nightstand.

Does it send a signal I don't want to send if I don't go the stairwell tonight? Do I want to send a signal? I don't know...actually, the only thing I know is that I don't want to think about this a second longer. I don't ease as I read, but my eyelids become heavier with each word they cross. I feel the weight of them as my focus slips, farther and farther away until I can no longer focus. When my eyes fall shut I can't bring myself to think or force them open.

--

I notice my surprised before I register that I've just woken up. Falling asleep feels so far and yet the crick in my neck confirms the obvious. Rubbing the eyes with the back of my hand, I push my book from my lap and sit up. The only indication of how much time has passed is how much my bedside candle has melted.

How long have I been asleep? How did I manage to fall asleep? I thought I was too mad at Kaz to manage anything but pouting in my room. I hadn't even decided if I wanted to talk to him.

I stand even though I haven't decided anything. I should at least change if I want to go to bed. But is leaving this alone for even longer a bad idea? I think Jesper thought so...though my conversation with him is far from clear. It's not the best look that the first time you let him pick a fight with you happens to be about some guy. I'm going to pretend I think you're smart enough to piece things together from that. What does he want me to do with that?

Maybe he was partially intoxicated and felt the need to play the role of a good friend. Or maybe this is his idea of a joke.

Whatever--regardless of Jesper, I have a choice to make. A tiny part of me hopes it's insignificant, but I know Kaz enough to know that nothing is insignificant to him. He holds onto things the way he holds onto his kruge. Perhaps I'll seek out Inej, she seems to be the best at rationalizing. Though she might be asleep by now, or on a job or...I don't even know.

How late is it? Is it late enough to be one of the few hours Kaz claims to reserve for sleep? Maybe my bad luck is still around and he's already in bed for once. Does that mean his anger will extend to tomorrow?

I shouldn't care. It's not like I'm in the wrong. Did I escalate things? Maybe a little...but I won't apologize for defending myself. Even though that makes everything a little easier. I feel stuck, like in some kind of place of half sleep. A single knock at my door is enough to make me want to jump. I rub my eyes a little more firmly in hopes of waking up more before someone sees me.

I approach the door without worry. Maybe it's not as late as I assumed. Or maybe it's really early? I open the door while still fighting against my slight disorientation. I'm so focused on acting normal, I almost don’t register the person standing at my door. 

I don’t know who I expected, or what--maybe Jesper, much more tipsy than he was before, slumped against the doorframe, only knocking because he’s too tired to push the door open. Maybe even Inej, on her way here to deliver some kind of job or notice of dismissal. But it’s nothing I could expect. It’s...Kaz. 

The Dirtyhands stands at my door, expression as hard as ever yet something behind his eyes that burns the sleep away from me. “Uh--hi.” I bite my tongue to avoid cringing at that very awkward beginning. “Are you here to kick me out yourself?” The only response I get is the slightest shift of his gaze off of my face. “No? Well then I think I’m going to bed. It’s late.” 

My tone and words are clear. Get out of my doorway, I’m in no mood to go back to arguing.  When he still doesn’t say anything, I’m emboldened by my nerves. I push the door between us without breaking eye contact. 

Before the wood can meet the doorframe, he moves his cane, wedging it between us. “Y/n.” I don’t understand the way he says my name, but I’m certain he’s never said it like that. “I...” When he’s not prompted by the uncomfortableness of silence, I raise an eyebrow, my grip on the door tightening. “What I said shouldn’t have been said.” Wait--is he admitting fault? I’m so thrown I almost melt entirely. “Not to you.” 

The addition leaves him so lowly a part of me wonders if I’ve imagined it. I’m so thrown by it I don’t even think to reply until a long second has passed. “You seemed to believe the opposite a few hours ago.” 

His lips press together for a moment. “You didn’t ask me to play cards tonight.” He took that as intentional? At least that got me some kind of apology? I keep my mouth shut, greed making me want more information. I guess he must sense my silent tugging because he head inclines slightly. “Don’t push.” 

I fight down a grin. “Push what?” His only response to stiffen further. “I’m going to tell you something as a peace offering.” That seems to intrigue him in some way. I can’t tell if it’s a good kind of interested, but I note the slight raise of his eyebrows and his intentional silence. “I didn’t chose not to ask you to play cards.” He gives me no indication of anything, which is fair...considering my vagueness. “I was mad, obviously, and in the middle of deciding on a course of action...and then I fell asleep.” 

A long pause of silence. “You fell asleep?” 

I’m not sure if his incredulous tone should offend me or not. If I wanted to lie, I’d like to think he knows me well enough to know that I’d have thought of a better excuse than that. Or at least a less embarrassing one. “Yes, it’s not that difficult to believe. Today had been long and all I wanted to do was read, but then Jesper came in to say the oddest things and then leave me to...” 

Oh--oh. I guess there’s a reason people say to ‘sleep on’ something. Because now, actively remembering Jesper’s words for the first time since I fell asleep...I understand what Jesper was implying in the oddest way possible. He meant that Kaz and I...that perhaps there is a Kaz and I in a context that’s more than just grammatical. Wow. I really had to realize this with Kaz right in front of me. 

My face feels warmer than it did before, an irrational bout of anxiety forcing me to consider that me might be able to read impossible, embarrassing thoughts from my expression alone. 

“What did Jesper say?” I’m too lost in my own spiral of confusion and panic and some feeling I can’t recognize to register how Kaz asks his question. There’s an edge to it, an odd one, but that could easily just be Kaz. 

This is most definitely the last conversation we need to be having. I’m still mad at him for his earlier dramatics. So I just shake my head, feigning an exhaustion I could lose myself in. “Nothing and everything all at once.” I resist the urge to rub my eyes again. “I’m pretty sure he was drinking, and I wasn’t really listening. I was just trying to read.” 

Kaz’s expression hardens briefly as he takes in my words, and then he exhales, nodding once with the breath. “What were you reading?” 

My lips part instinctually, ready to spew off details about the latest novel that’s captured my attention. But before I can let myself take off, the reality of the situation strikes me directly in the chest. This is not Nina, or Inej, or even Jesper after what he considers a ‘good night’. This is Kaz Brekker, the man believed to not have a soul. I’ve spoken to him before about casual things, though most of the nights in which we end up playing cards or just sitting near each other are spent in silence. But he’s never prompted me before. Not in the one topic he knows is guaranteed to turn me into an overenthusiastic, gushing fountain of poor summaries and character analysis. 

I guess this is his peace offering. This shouldn’t warm the way it does. He was still unbelievably dramatic and treated me like I’m some kind of unreliable fool. “It’s late, and you know how I can be. I’d hate to keep you for nothing more than a poor summary and honestly, an embarrassing rant about plot or characters, because there’s just nothing as frustrating as when two people so clearly care about each other and both are too stubborn and oblivious to acknowledge it.” 

Kaz’s eyebrows draw together just enough for me to be able to make out a shift of expression in the poor light. Perhaps his lingering irritation is preparing to rear its ugly head. The corner of his mouth seems to threaten to tilt upwards as Kaz angles his head to the side slightly. “I can’t imagine that position.” 

No kidding. I bite my tongue to keep the sarcastic comment and awkward laugh that would sure follow it away. “Who can? That’s like half the point of reading.” 

How can interaction feel so over and just at its beginning all at once? I press my lips together to avoid filling the silence with things I’d no doubt instantly regret. It’s easy to be mad at Kaz in the moment. Too easy. But to stay mad at him when his temper has passed and he returns with some kind of begrudging and admittedly awkward and uncertain truce is another task entirely. 

“I’ve never understood your attachment to written words.” 

“It’s not about understanding, it’s about everything else.” 

“And you say I’m cryptic.” Is he...kinda almost joking? I straighten my spine, too tired to fight and too wounded to forgive. “There’s understanding in everything, nothing can survive on sentiment alone.” 

“If you read the way I did, you’d understand.” 

His lips press together as his expression remains unwavering in its hardness. “Read to me.” 

...Interacting with Kaz in any way often leaves me feeling like I’m wandering through unknown territory. But this, this is undeniably different. So different I can’t even think of a way to react. I watch his expression as cautiously as possible. He’s purely reserved, no distinction from the look he wears during business propositions. Except there’s a tightness I can’t quite understand.

Maybe it’s because I don’t want to fight anymore. Maybe it’s because exhaustion is leaving me partially delirious. Or maybe it’s the weird feeling in my chest that I can’t quite place. That I don’t want to place. “Okay.” I shift carefully. “If for no other reason then to prove you wrong.” 

Never did I think I’d end up in the position of sitting in my bed, book in hand, with Kaz Brekker sitting next to me. But here we are. I’m so tired, I almost let out a nervous laugh when he first walked in. So brooding and tall, gripping the head of his head cane as he sits at the foot of my bed, on my pastel quilt. 

I’m glad for the excuse to keep my gaze away from him and on the words in front of me. I read out loud, feeling more and more comfortable with each page I finish. But as my inhibitions slip away, so dos my hold on consciousness. My eyelids seem to grow heavier with each word that I read. 

“You’re falling asleep.” 

I straighten my spine on instinct. “Am not.” I’m not sure why I feel the need to deny something so simple. 

“You’re impossible.” 

From him, that statement is laugh worthy. “I’m impossible? Do you not remember earlier today?” 

From the way his jaw locks, I realize that he’s in no mood to be light about this topic. I don’t understand why. It’s not like I’m the one that wronged him. “I remember your lack of focus.” 

Keeping my hands at my side to avoid rubbing my eyes, I frown. “If you want to have this argument again, fine. Jesper is more ‘distracted’ than me half the time and you’re much more lenient on him. It’s not like I was flirting with someone or gambling or doing anything but having a two second conversation. One that I needed to have to get information that you wanted.” 

The last time we fought, I had more energy to restrain myself. This could be atomic. I hold my breath, waiting for Kaz’s retaliation. He exhales, eyes not meeting mine. “Arguing with you when you’re present is exhausting enough. It’s not worth it when you’re half asleep.” 

This angers me further. I hate that he’s right. “I’m not half asleep.” He leaves it at that. I glare even harder at him, slumping further into my bed. “But for the sake of argument, I’ll drop it. Something you’re incapable of doing.” 

At that, his eyes meet mine. I try to hold his gaze, but the harder I think about not seeming tired the more exhaustion slips in. A yawn escapes me before he looks away. Great. “I know when to lie in the grass in wait.” 

Rolling my eyes, I shift back slightly. He’s incapable of being less dramatic than this. Still, I can’t imagine the effort it’s taking on his part to not start an argument. Maybe this is why Jesper spent so long implying that there may be a Kaz and I in any capacity beyond a vague kind of friendship. “I’ll admit you’re tactful.”

“Resourceful people recognize that trait in other people.” 

Blinking twice, I lower my book slightly. Am I truly exhausted, or did he just compliment me in a way? “Careful, I may start to think you find me tolerable.” 

“Let’s not exaggerate.” Okay, now I know I’m exhausted because I think he might have just attempted a joke. Rolling my eyes, I decide not to acknowledge this lightness in fear that I’ll scare it away. “Y/n?” 

I press my lips together, worried about the destruction of our peace. “Yes?” 

“What did Jesper say to you? Earlier?” I pause, slightly unsure why we’re moving backwards. 

We’re in a decent place now, and I’d hate to ruin it. I’m too half asleep to lie eloquently. And it’s not like he’s an easily convinced man. “Oh, he said it so cryptically it took me longer than it should have to understand. And it didn’t help that it was something so...well, you might find it funny. As funny as you find anything, anyways.” Wow...I’ve spent such a long time talking. Rubbing the back of my eyes, I avoid his gaze. Exhaustion and awkwardness mix in my stomach oddly. “It seemed like he was trying to imply that you and I...me and you...” Why is this a difficult thing to say? It’s not like I was implying it and Jesper’s known for his oddness. “I think Jesper was implying that there was a you and I, or at least that there could be.” I’m too lost in a haze of almost sleep to watch his reaction. I let my head rest against my headboard even further. “Isn’t that odd?” 

He’s quiet for a long second, and then he finally speaks again. “Odd, even for Jesper.” The response doesn’t satiate me...what’s that about? I exhale, deciding that feeling is tomorrow’s problem. When I blink, I decide to let my eyes stay closed. Just for a moment. The sound of something shifting is what makes my eyes squint open. Kaz is standing, his expression unreadable as he straightens. “Goodnight, y/n.” 

At that, I sit up slightly, ignoring the exhaustion behind my eyes. “I haven’t finished the chapter.” 

“You’ve convinced me of enough.” A concession? How exhausted do I seem? My lips press together as I think of my next argument. Before I can get it out, Kaz leans forward. He grabs the quilt at the end of my bed and tosses it onto my legs casually. “Goodnight, y/n.” The meaning of his repetition is clear. His word is final. 

I find enough energy to manage a glare, but I pull the quilt over my legs anyways. “Goodnight, Kaz.”

[queenshelby]

Roommates – Part Two

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Words: 2,363

Warning: Smut

Note: This plays in 2020.

Three days had passed and your new little toy had become your new lockdown obsession. You never had an orgasm so strong and your two best female friends thought that it was rather amusing when you told them about it over a glass of wine.

Every Tuesday evening, you skyped with Laura and Elenore in your room for at least an hour while enjoying some alcoholic beverages and tonight was no different.

But, since living with Cillian and following his breakup with Laura, you had to be careful about what you were saying as you didn’t want to upset either of them.

Laura clearly wasn’t over the breakup and continuously asked you about Cillian, finding it somewhat strange that you were living together and, whilst you assured her that you were not interested in Cillian, she struggled to believe you.

You hadn’t told Laura about Cillian’s hook ups with Lindsay and made it clear to both of her and Cillian that you weren’t going to discuss their respective private lives with the other and would appreciate if they were going to accept your position in this regard.

Whilst Cillian did, Laura sometimes couldn’t help herself and dwelled on about how she missed Cillian. Clearly, she was still in love with him and, whilst you reminded her that you aren’t a messenger between him and her, you were quite willing to listen to her and provide emotional support as a friend.

When, however, the topic of intimacy came up in your conversations, you couldn’t help but cringe.

According to Laura, he was quite a devil in the bedroom department and you felt as though your wanted your ears to explode every time Laura brought up specifics.

This, again, happened tonight when your sex toy recommendation turned into something else entirely and you learned that you missed out on so many things with James.

According to your friends, what you and him used to get up to was quite ordinary and you learned that your best friend and roommate was much more adventurous than your ex-fiancé.

‘You did not have sex at the theatre…oh my god’ you said in disbelieve when Laura told you one of the many stories in which you learned that Cillian had quite a thing for risky public relations with his female partners.

‘Who would have thought huh? He seems all so quiet and shy, but he really isn’t’ Laura confirmed, making you to take a rather large sip from your glass of wine.

‘Apparently so’ you then giggled before you also learned that your new house mate was hiding some things in the basement.  

‘Common, you’ve been living there for three months now and you never wondered what the hooks in the ceiling of the basement are for?’ Laura then asked and you couldn’t help but choke on your wine. A sex swing perhaps, you now wondered?

‘I think I have heard enough, thanks. Can we please change the topic?’ you asked somewhat embarrassed but, it wasn’t the fact that you learned these kinky facts about Cillian which embarrassed you. Rather, it was the fact that you got aroused by the thought of him doing those things. This, in turn, made you uncomfortable and you didn’t like that you were fantasising about him in any way at all.

You even had started to have dreams about Cillian over the past few days, causing you to wake up aroused and wet and forcing you to seek relief. You never felt like this about him before and you wondered why this was happening now.

Was it the fact that you saw him every day, sometimes even half naked as he carelessly moved through the house? Was it because you were bored and sex deprived? Or was it because your bond had become stronger after he helped you and supported you through your break up?

You didn’t know what it was that caused you to have these thoughts about him but you noticed that they had become more prominent and you found yourself looking at his body more frequently when you were around each other.

****

But you weren’t the only one checking out their roommate. Cillian quite obviously did the same.

It was Wednesday morning that he came back from doing the grocery shopping as you were in the kitchen, dancing and making pizza dough.

You didn’t even notice Cillian walking in as you shook your booty to some loud music while giving the dough a good workout.

Wearing nothing but a cotton singlet and cotton briefs, you were twirling around the kitchen just you twirled around the dough. Your top wad covered in flour and so was your hair and face.

Cillian’s chin dropped and inhaled sharply before putting down the shopping bags.

‘Having fun there?’ he asked, startling you and making you drop one of the empty plastic bowls.

‘Absolutely’ you smiled before bending down in front of him and he couldn’t help but wonder how far your tattoo on your right thigh extended upwards.

Whilst Cillian put away the groceries, you finished preparing the dough and set aside to rise before cleaning the mess you had made.

‘I am going out with the dog shortly, do you want to come?’ you asked but Cillian declined your offer.

There was something else he needed to do.

***

Knowing that you had left the house, Cillian made his way to the basement.

‘This is ridiculous’ he said to himself as, once again, his erect cock was straining against his tight jeans after he saw you dancing around in the kitchen.

There was something about you like this, in your black cotton panties and your black singlet, messy hair and your top covered with white dust from the flour moving to the beat of “Touched” by Part Human. Your nipple piercings were clearly visible through the thin top and the tattoo on your upper thigh was barely covered.

It wasn’t even the kind of music he liked, nor did he like tattoos or piercings on women. He didn’t want you. Or did he? He wasn’t so sure anymore but, what he did know, was that he needed to get off yet again.

Opening up his laptop he was quick to flash up the internet, but it wasn’t a porn website which he decided to visit. To the contrary, Cillian felt the need to listen to this very same song again, picturing you in his head, dancing and slowly loosing the little amount of clothes you were wearing.

He placed a towel onto the large office chair in front of his desk and, after sitting down, Cillian unzipped his jeans and pulled them down slightly, releasing his raging erection. He leaned back against the chair comfortably, closed his eyes and caressed his shaft gently.

Using an open hand, he massaged his cock and balls at the same time while imaging you, dancing for him. There was no time for guilt as every stroke of his hand sent a shiver down his spine and every exhalation released tension from his already throbbing cock.

Cillian then used his other hand to move upwards and with a lick of the forefinger, massaged the back of his bulging head, much like the way you tease a wooden clit.

But it was no longer his hands he imagined stroking him, it were yours instead and he squirmed under the overwhelming pressure of anticipation. Panting and short of breath, Cillian opened his eyes like one waking from a nightmare.

It didn’t quite feel right just yet and he quickly reached into one of the draws in his study desk and retrieved a tube of cherry flavoured lube which Laura had bought back in time. Cillian squirted the lube directly down his pulsing shaft and some of it ran over his tight balls and down into his clenching ass. The lube was cold but soothing and the scent of cherry-scented lube filled the room.

Cillian spread the lube all over his shaft with his right hand and began stroking, up and down, slowly at first and then increasing in speed. The sensation of it trickling down his ass arched his back, making his breath seize up.

The thought of you stroking him occupied his mind as he continued to stroke. He was sweating now, panting and wanting more. He could feel the surge through his testicles as he continued to rub his shaft and tease his balls.

His body lurched. Mouth open. Eyes closed. There was a surge of pre-cum, running across his thumb and, in his mind, he imagined you licking it off with your pierced tongue.

Then, finally, the roll of cum began as he continued to stroke his cock hard and fast. The orgasm was building, muscles contracting. Cillian’s cock was hard as a rock. One frantic gasp for air and release.

With a loud groan, Cillian came hard and his seed landed all over his upper thighs and the towel beneath him while his cock continued to throb and pulse in his hand. Cillian squeezed the last of his cum from his shaft with a final groan and, just as he did, he heard a voice in the doorway.

‘Oh my god, fuck’ you said with total embarrassment as you quickly turned around when you realised what you had just witnessed.

‘Fuck, Y/N, Jesus’ Cillian shouted out, cheeks flushing red.

‘I am so sorry Cillian. Please tell me when you are decent, alright’ you chuckled while Cillian quickly wiped his cum off his thighs with the towel and pulled up his jeans.

‘I am decent’ Cillian huffed out rather embarrassed and you turned around with a wide grin on your face.

‘Listen Y/N, this…’ Cillian began to say but you immediately interrupted him.

‘Cilly, there is no need to explain, really. We all have needs and its not that I haven’t seen your manhood before. In fact, most of the world has, although maybe not in an erect state’ you chuckled, thinking back at 28 Days Later.

‘I thought you were out with the dog, so, uhm…you know…’ Cillian barely managed to say.

‘I forgot the doggy bags and came down here to ask you where they were’ you eventually said and Cillian got up and showed you where he had put them.

‘Right, thanks, I am going now, see you later’ you then said before commenting on his choice of music to masturbate to which, of course, embarrassed Cillian even more.

***

For the remainder of the day, you couldn’t get Cillian out of your mind. The picture of him masturbating was stuck in your mind and so was the picture of his hard cock and cum covered thighs.

There was no way you could go to sleep like this and you pondered on about what Laura told you and how dirty minded this man really was.

From light BDSM to anal sex, you were certainly turned on and you were feeling ashamed about it. He was your best friend for god sake and yet all you could think about was his hard cock.

With those thoughts running through your mind, you reached for your other more conventional vibrator and lay back and open your legs as wide as they will go before placing the tip of your vibrator at the entrance to your dripping pussy.

Whilst you felt guilty about it, you imagined it be Cillian’s hard and glistening cock instead of your vibrator, pausing for just a moment before gliding it home.

‘Fuck’ you whispered, unable to keep completely silent, and began sliding the vibrator in and out of you. The fullness felt amazing and you loved it but you couldn’t get enough. You were aching for more, for Cillian’s warm skin on yours instead of the hollow air and the cold vibrator in between your legs.

But your mind went even further than that, imagining the cum you had seen on Cillian’s thighs inside of your pussy, filling you and dripping out of you slowly. You even wondered what his cum would taste like and feel like in your mouth as you began pleasuring yourself harder and faster.

You were desperate now, your eyes closed, picturing your best friend making love to you. Imaging that this is him slamming himself into you over and over as he tells you that you are his. It's almost too much, but at the same time not enough.

You stopped for a moment and pull the toy out suddenly, almost cumming as you did. Quickly you reached down with your left hand and used your fingers to dip them inside, soaking them in your juices. You began pumping the vibrator into you slipping and sliding over and over in a constant motion. Fucking yourself faster, harder in desperate need.

Your left hand had also increased in speed, furiously drawing circles around your twitching swollen clit and, after only a few seconds you explode without making a sound.

The explosion was overpowering from waves of pleasure from inside you coming out and along every inch of your skin. They started before the last one ended, rippling forever upwards throughout your whole body.

Your clit suddenly too sensitive that you had to remove your fingers gently and bask in the glory of it. But, it only took a moment for the guilt to set in.

You knew you had to do something about this but, with new COVID restrictions having been introduced, you knew that you were stuck for now. You wouldn’t be going anywhere and all you could do is distract yourself from your filthy thoughts about your closest friend.

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[iamjungkooked]

Until My Last Breath

↳Pairing: Jungkook x female reader

↳Genre: Smut (mild), Romance, Angst

↳Word count: 13.4k

↳Warnings: swearing, mild oral sex (f receiving), way too much making out, grinding (sort of?), mention of death. More than all of this Jeongguk is just fucking delicious in this fic (that’s the biggest warning i can give you)

↳Rating: 18+ (Don’t read if you are underage)

↳AU: werewolf! Jungkook + human OC

↳Summary: Sporting an undercut and tattoos Jeon Jungkook waltzes back in your life after 5 years of being away. You think you know him– and just when you think you have gotten close, he reveals a secret (or two). Following this, is a series of trials and tribulations that concludes in a way you never expect.

(Alternatively: the one where Jungkook creates a mess out of you)

➾➾➾➾➾➾➾➾➾➾➾➾➾➾➾➾➾➾➾➾➾➾➾➾➾➾➾

Your hands hurt from holding the grocery bags. Mrs. Jeon did offer her help but you refused because she has so much to do. If anything Jimin should have accompanied you considering that he’s always going on about how he’d marry you if he could.

Alas, he wasn’t there either because being the beta of the pack meant he had to run morning training and education with the younger children since Jungkook wasn’t there. Generally this was something the alpha of the pack would do-- but Mr. Jeon was busy with the politics of the werewolf and human world. Had Jungkook been here he would have been running the session seeing as he is next in line to be alpha of the pack. But he was miles away on the other side of the country. He has been for five years and truth be told you can’t even remember what his face looks like anymore.

With thoughts such as that the only accompaniment, you march along with as much energy you can muster at each step. The house comes into view. Once again with no other company but your own to entertain yourself you take a drip down memory lane. You remember the awe you first felt when Mr. Jeon brought you to the house. Your father had just passed away while on a drug raid. Mr. Jeon being his best friend brought you with him.

In the early days, the entire family tried to hide their secret. But then on a full moon, you curiously followed Jungkook out and watched as he transformed from man into a beast. Initially, you wanted to scream with horror, but the air got stuck in your throat when he began approaching you. Rooted to the spot and with no escape, Jungkook-- rather his wolf form nuzzled his nose against your neck and whimpered. The fear was gone just like that. All night long, you accompanied him, roaming the forest behind the house getting into all sorts of trouble. When the effect of the full moon began to fade during the early hours of the morning you remember sneaking back into the house and rummaging through his room to get him clothes for when he transformed back.

You kick the giant black gate open and walk down the cemented pathway flanked on either side by lawns outlined with a variety of flowers. To your left was the gazebo that Mr. Jeon built when you were sixteen as a birthday present because that happened to be your obsession at the time.

As the foyer nears, you see a huge commotion outside. It seemed everyone and their mother was present. With urgency in your steps only worsened by curiosity, you reach in no time. You stand on your tiptoes to get a view of what was happening, however, the five grocery bags in your hands weigh you down.

Momentarily the crowd parts. You see the outline of a face that isn’t recognizable-- the hoodie covering half the profile.

“What is going on?” you gather the courage to speak loudly against the chatter of the crowd.

It is loud enough to get the talking to stop and everyone turns to you, including the mysterious stranger.

He pulls his hoodie down.

The grocery bags drop from your hands, just as your mouth hangs open.

“Jungkook is back!” one of the kids tugs at your arm in excitement.

Well shit. You never could have recognized him even if someone planted his younger version of right next to him. He is probably just shy of 6 feet tall. Although engulfed in a black crewneck, you could tell he was built. His dark wash ripped blue jeans contour his thighs to perfection and just when you think he couldn’t have changed further you notice his hair. He had gone off and gotten himself an undercut. His hair was on the longer side, and it was parted to the left of his head while the undercut was visible on the right. He had even gone so far as to get tattoos that adorned his fingers, and his forearm-- a music note. Well now you were fucked because how could you ever resist a man with that kind of hairstyle and tattoos.

Correction, how could you resist a fucking werewolf who wears an undercut and has tattoos?

“Y/n?” he speaks and you swear you could have heard angels speaking to you.

You keep mum. In fact, you can’t even hear him. You’re too busy undressing him with your eyes. Your heart pounds, your knees feel weak because this man is simply too gorgeous to exist. How the hell is everyone else standing on their two feet while you feel like you’re going to fall any moment?

You say something. You have no idea what exactly because your ears are ringing, but you know something comes out of your mouth which causes everyone around you to giggle. You might as well just turn around and go hide somewhere because you’ve probably made a fool of yourself.

“Huh” comes his deep voice, but it’s faint. His remark only makes you wonder what you spat out.

“It’s hot” you fan yourself with your hand. Your mouth is parched, dry like the desert. “You--  Wow. You look--nice to--- welcome. I mean, g-good— to” you look at him, and pause to collect your thoughts. “Good to have you back. I think...” you are completely breathless and dazed by the end of that word salad. Your forehead scrunches in a frown as you try to shake away the magic spell his presence has cast on you. You don’t even bother to wait for a response as you run back down the pathway you came. You follow it out of the gate and turn the corner. A few paces up the hill you come upon the gated entrance to the forest.

You hear someone calling you out, but you’re a damn mess. You aren’t willing to let anyone see you like that. You run as far into the forest as your legs will carry you-- far, far, away from him.

You can finally understand the phrase “avoid like the plague” because that’s what you have been doing to Jungkook. For the past four days since he has been back, you have done anything and everything you can to avoid him. If you see him in the house, you immediately make a u-turn for your room. If you see him outside, you hide behind anything you can find-- a pillar, a bush, a tree, a car, another fucking human being.

Of course it doesn’t help that everyone tries to keep pushing you to him. Well, mostly his parents. But also random people like the ladies in Mrs. Jeon’s book club who on Saturday made a spectacle out of you.

“Come on, pose for a photo” they had said when they saw you and Jungkook out and about the house. You weren’t even looking at one another when they swarmed you and him, taking you by the arm and making you stand next to one another. They didn’t even ask nicely-- no. They demanded that you and Jungkook take a photo because apparently you two look amazing together. Despite your protests, and vigorous head shaking-- they basically pushed you to him, and thankfully he managed to steady you on your feet by catching your waist.

His arm around your waist as he holds you flush against him and your hand on his forearm while you two looked at one another-- that’s the picture they took. You may as well have just gotten a whole fucking photoshoot done while you were at it.

“Y/n’s probably always had a crush on him” one of the ladies, Mrs. Ri had mentioned while all the others including Mrs Jeon crowded around to look at the picture on the camera.

A tomato couldn’t be more red than you and that's saying something. All Jungkook did in response was shrug at you like he was enjoying it. Normally a man might object to being treated this way. But he didn’t utter a single word. Only he looked quite amused by the whole situation and your reaction as he smiled and chuckled to himself.

On the other hand, his parents always mentioned in his absence that they would love if you and him got together. You never paid any mind to those conversations in particular because it was Jungkook— atleast how you remembered him before he became a fucking Adonis. Not that it’s the only thing that matters. But you just never felt this way before, and now you do.

You tiptoe through the house while everyone is busy at this time of day. Mrs.Jeon is probably with all the other ladies for their book club, Mr.Jeon no doubt is in his study and Jimin is probably with Jungkook, training.

It sucks to be the only human sometimes because they can always hear you, and know what you’re thinking. But you can’t do the same. It makes you feel vulnerable. But everyone is good at reminding you about how lucky you are to be human.

You traipse through the living room, peeking behind from walls here and there to make sure Jungkook isn’t around because if you see him you’re sure you’ll lose your shit. Again.

There is a certain chunk of the wooden floor that creaks under pressure so you take care to avoid it. Because in case Jungkook is anywhere inside the house he’ll hear it.

Creak

“Fuck” you mutter, shutting your eyes tight and carefully lifting your toes from the damned spot which makes another sound.

You hear footsteps on the stairs behind you. Too scared to move, you straighten up.

“I was wondering when I’ll see you again” comes Jungkook’s voice.

“Heeeyyy” you turn around, plastering a smile on your face and it screams fake.

“Four days huh. Good job” Jungkook looks impressed as he comes down to ahalt at the last step . “How did you manage to avoid me for four whole days? I am curious”

“You knew”

“Of course I knew” he’s mouth moves as he chews gum, one brow raised at you, looking absolutely devilish (in the best way possible). “Too bad the streak has come to end” he places his hands in pockets lining his black sweats.

Well fuck. No point in denying it anymore then.

“If it wasn’t for this stupid floor I could have gone the whole week. Probably” you decide to give in instead of pretending you have no idea what he’s talking about.

He steps towards you, one corner of his mouth curved up in a sly smirk. “That would never happen. You’d have made a mistake at some point before that”

“Maybe” you shrug. You’re so surprised that you’re able to find your words this time. “Welcome back by the way” you offer a genuine smile, trying to make up for that botched attempt when he first arrived.

“Thanks. It’s good to be back” he sighs contentedly. “I missed this place and the people.” he looks around and then his gaze comes to rest on you. “Well, one person in particular” he looks you straight in the eyes.

“Your mom” you reply. He loves his mother.

“Yes. But also someone else”

“Who?” curiosity gets the best of you.

“Just someone” he shrugs.

You’re about to respond when Jimin comes in. “What are you two doing here?” he looks at Jungkook as he stops next to you, throwing an arm around your shoulder.

Wordlessly, Jungkook’s eyes change color from his hazel brown to icy blue. He steps towards you and Jimin, and then pulls Jimin’s hand away from your shoulder. He looks at the boy, jaw grinding as he chews gum. “Can I talk to you for a sec?” his voice is calm, but his eyes are absolutely terrifying since they harbour a cold, mean look. They change back to brown in an instant once Jimin nods. You notice how tense Jimin looks but he walks with Jungkook anyway.  

They’re probably only gone for thirty seconds. But when they come back their body language is completely relaxed. They look like two pals reunited after years.

“Everything okay?” you ask Jimin.

“Yeah. All good” he nods. “I was just congratulating him”

“What for?” you look between the two of them, feeling awfully suspicious.

Jimin is about to open his mouth when he catches Jungkook’s gaze. Jungkook shakes his head and you notice, at which point you turn to him. “Fine. I don’t want to know” you huff. You start towards the back door which leads to the backyard where Mrs. Jeon is with her friends.

Just a couple steps in, you’re tugged back. You turn around to find Jungkook holding onto your wrist. There is something about the way he looks at you. You’ve seen this look before in movies—it’s the way the hero looks at the heroine when he thinks she isn’t looking. It’s soft, but it’s wanting-- a complete contrast from the way he glared the life out of Jimin just minutes ago. He looks like he’s got something to say, but he’s holding back.

“What is it?” your voice is quiet, like you’re too scared to speak out. As if your voice will give away the crazy whirlwind of emotions in your chest.

“Nothing” he blinks and lets go of your wrist. “See ya around” he turns on his heels and walks the other way as Jimin follows him.

The woods at this time of the night are majestic. Moonlight bathes the tops of trees in a silver glow. The moonlight filters through gaps in tree branches, and covers the ground in a white sheen. It looks nothing short of magical.There is a slight chill in the wind, but it’s nothing you aren’t used to. The fallen leaves crunch under your feet. Sounds of crickets chirping, owls hooting fills the air.

You walk through the pathway bordered on each side by large trees the branches of which meet in the middle above you, forming an archway. You feel safe in the womb of nature like you’re protected and nothing could touch you. Without fear, it’s easier for you to take in everything. The air you breathe feels fresh, and crisp. If you could, you would make time stop so you could stay in the woods at night and never have to leave.

As each step carries you further into the woods, you feel more and more at peace. The trees become more lush the further you go. The animals are more noticeable deep into the forest. You see squirrels running around the trees, there are bird nests high up in the branches. You can hear mockingjays in these parts of the forest too.

You stop by the clearing in the woods. This side of the woods is your favorite. You sit against the trunk of one of the trees, resting your head. You look at nothing in particular in the sky. It’s clear above you, with a full moon shining. Your mind immediately goes back to Jungkook as you gaze upon it. You feel tortured every time your thoughts turn to him. You don’t know if it’s normal for you to want to cry, but you’re already shedding tears. Your quiet sobs accompany the sounds of nature. The weight seems to be lifting off your shoulders, and it feels easier to breathe. But then you think of him and that someone he mentioned. It causes you to sob even harder. You hiccup, using the back of your hands to wipe away the tears.

“What’s wrong?”

You can’t forget that voice. You look up at Jungkook as he stands with his hands in his jean pockets.

You shake your head. “Nothing. I just-- I miss--” you begin to cry again. “I-I miss my dad” another sob escapes your throat.

“Can I give you a hug?” he asks in a soft voice, which makes you want to cry even harder. “Please”

You nod.

He comes over, sits down next to you and gathers you in his arms. He pulls you into himself, wrapping your arm around his side, as he holds you. You place your cheek against his chest as you hold him close. It may have started because of him, but it continues because you do miss your dad. The moment you said “dad” was when you knew you couldn’t stop even if you wanted to.

“I am sorry y/n” he strokes the back of your head. “I really am” he sniffles.

You pull back to find tears staining his cheeks. “Why are you crying?” you look up at him.

His gaze is locked onto yours. “Because, I can feel what you feel”

“Sorry. I forgot you’re a werewolf” you shift back on your spot, forcing his arm to fall from your shoulder.

He opens his mouth to say something but then closes it. He looks at you a few seconds longer. “Yeah. That’s it” he says, blinking and a lone tear escapes. Your fingers twitch at your side, needing to wipe it away. But it might be too weird so you let your fingers curl into a fist.

“Thank you for doing this” your mouth curves in a soft smile. “How did you find me here?”

“I’ve seen you in the woods for the past four nights. I didn’t know who it was at first because I only saw a flash of your hair, or your shoes. But today I followed you and it’s good I did because pretty girls like you shouldn’t be crying alone”

You snort. “Right. Pretty girls like me”

He raises a brow. “You don’t believe me?”

“I believe you. I just don’t believe your words”

“Then tell me what I can do to make you believe me” he states. You’re sure he isn’t serious but one look at him tells you he means every single word.

“Jungkook, it’s alright. You don’t have to do anything” you shake your head. But then it strikes you. “Although there is something…”

“Anything” the corners of his mouth upturned in a soft smile-- one that made your heart skip a beat (or ten maybe).

“I want to see your wolf form” you look at him tentatively, wondering if he’ll turn you down, or maybe even shout at you for making a request. Asking a werewolf to show their wolf is a sacred request and not something that should be asked lightly. You know how important their wolf form is to them. It’s like talking about sex among humans, but much more of a touchy subject.

“That’s it?” his eyebrows are furrowed together at the miniscule nature of your request.

“So you’ll show me? Can you do it on your own will?” your hands clasp in front of your chest in anticipation.

A laugh bellows from his chest. “Of course. I’ll show you” he stands up, dusts his hands, and the back of his jeans. “You may want to close your eyes because I need my clothes for later”

Without needing to be told in exact terms, you close your eyes and cover them with your hands for good measure. You can hear sounds of feet shuffling, a belt unbuckling and soft thuds—probably his clothes dropping ctx dagainst the soil.

“I’ll count to five and then open. One, Two, Three, Four, Five”

You give it a few more seconds just in case before you’re uncovering your eyes. Standing in front of you is a majestic white wolf, with icy blue eyes-- Jungkook’s eyes. Your mouth falls open, your mind unable to come up with words. You cautiously step towards him, hand reaching out wanting to touch him. He meets you halfway, nuzzling his nose against your hand. You laugh.

“You’re beautiful Jungkook” you whisper as you stroke the fur, which is softer than velvet against your hand.

The wolf whimpers in response.

“What can you do as a wolf? Any tricks?” you ask, forgetting that he’s not a dog.

He growls, baring his teeth.

You throw your hands up. “Geez. Sorry. I was just curious” you reach for his muzzle as you continue stroking gently to help him calm down.

He steps back, turns around and starts further into the forest.

“Where are you going?” you ask.

He whimpers and motions beyond the clearing with his head. You start to follow, when you remember his clothes and grab them. He’s already a few paces ahead of you. It seems that even his wolf isn’t patient.

“Slow down will you?” you yell as you run to try and catch up. He doesn’t listen though as he continues on.

You’re breathless by the time you reach a beautiful meadow full of wildflowers and fallen timber. Flowing right next to the meadow is a stream littered with little stones and large rocks alike. Moonlight shines through the cracks between tree branches above you. The air is cooler than you have ever experienced in this part of the woods. The grass is lush and soft beneath your feet unlike the rest of the forest which is mostly soil. You don’t know how you never came upon this place on your walks. But then again Jungkook probably knows the forest best.

He is stopped at the edge of the stream. You drop the pile of his clothes on a log, and walk towards the stream. You crouch and place your hand in the running stream. The icy cold water sends shivers down your body. You flick some of the water on him, at which point he growls at you again.

“This is fun” you chuckle as you get up.

He whimpers as he tackles you to the ground, and nuzzles his nose in your neck.

“It tickles, it tickles, it tickles” you laugh as you try to push him away. You doubt you could have pushed him away in his human form but as a wolf it’s impossible. You rub your hand against his fur. He mewls and falls on his back next to you and you rub his underbelly. He loves it as he continues to make these cute noises and all you want to do is hug him.

A twig snaps somewhere in the distance. Jungkook jumps up to his feet, growling, teeth showing as he paces in front of you looking in the direction of the sound. He continues to snarl and growl, pacing increasing in speed. He looks ready to kill. You abandon your perch on the grass in favor of standing up. You tread towards him. At this point you’re more scared of what he’s doing rather than where the sound came from. You reach him, stopping by his side. You look at him— at those blue eyes of his, and take a step forward but he’s quick to nudge you back with his head.

“It’s alright” you reassure him as you caress the top of his head.

You try once more to step beyond where he’s standing but he gives another push and you tumble back slightly. He snarls at you as he looks back at you over his shoulder, warning you to stay in your place. He turns back to inspect the woods, pacing from side to side.

“Alright. Fine” you give up. “But please don’t do anything. It could just an animal like a squirrel or something”

Ears perked up, he stands towering in front of you.

“I don’t think it was anything” you stay in your spot, as you place your hand on his flank.

He holds up his nose, moving his head in every direction like he’s trying to smell something out. He starts stepping back, his rump hitting you as he does. He turns around, leaning his muzzle against your shoulder, like he’s trying to comfort you and find comfort in you.

“It’s okay” you whisper, skimming his fur. “We’re fine” you wrap your arm around his neck.

He lets out a small cry as he snuggles into you.

“I brought your clothes by the way” you let go of him and he steps back. “I think it’s best if we go home. It’s already 1”

He steps back a few paces and disappears behind a tree while you turn around and wait for him.

“Give me a sign whenever you’re done” you call out. You wait and wait for what seems like ten minutes but is really only a minute or two.

He clears his throat. “I am good.” he says.

You turn around to face him. You really missed seeing his face-- in the human form. He was majestic in his wolf form, but there is something about the human side of him that you can’t get over. In all honesty, he’s a sight to behold.  

“So, what did you think?” he rubs his hands together in anticipation.

“You’re amazing” you meet him halfway. “I’ve seen almost everyone’s wolf form. But yours is breathtaking”

He chuckles. “Thank you. I am sure he’s happy to hear it too” he closes the distance. He reaches for your hand, curling his fingers around your palm. It’s the warmest feeling you have ever felt.

You open your mouth to protest but he’s already cutting you off.

“I am not letting go, until we’re out of these woods.” he tugs on your hand as he turns around and begins towards the house.

“Thank you. It is sweet of you to protect me”

“It’s my job to protect you. I will always be there when you need me” he squeezes your hand in reassurance.

It’s nice to know that you have someone in your corner. “I wish I could say the same. But you don’t need me to protect you”

He nods. “You’re right. But if I ever need a hug, I know who to come to”

Little does he know that you are ready to give him the whole wide world. “Anytime”

Your eyes lock for a few seconds and both of you burst into grins.

Walking in the forest by yourself is always peaceful. But walking in these woods hand in hand with Jungkook is euphoric.

A pang of dread fills your chest when Jungkook ignores you.

Just when you thought things were going good, he distanced himself. You don’t know what went wrong in the days following the night in the woods. But he was avoiding you. It wouldn’t have felt so bad were it not for the fact that the way he ignored you was cold. It wasn’t like you where it was more benign in nature and it was clear that you were avoiding him for fear of embarrassing yourself. He knew that too. But with him it’s something else

He wouldn’t even look at you. A frown seemed to have permanently settled on his face. He was never present anymore. He was always lost in thought with an inscrutable look in his eyes. If you showed up where he was, he’d leave wordlessly. If you tried to talk to him he’d act like he couldn’t even hear you and that would be followed by his departure. And when he did look at you-- the only way to interpret the expression in his eyes was: resentment. You had no idea why he was doing that.

So as the whole family, including Jimin was sitting in the backyard under the canopy for breakfast, Jungkook made to leave just as you were approaching to join them. But his mother made him sit back down.

“Jungkook, you’re not going to leave” her tone is stern.

He rolls his eyes with a huff as he sits back down.

“What’s wrong with you dude?” Jimin leans in, thinking he’s whispering but his voice is a tad bit louder than that.

Even you can hear him just as you are a few steps away.

“Nothing” his voice is devoid of emotion. He leans back in his chair, sliding down against the back like he just wants to disappear. He fiddles with his fingers.

“Hi everyone” you offer a tight lipped smile. Everyone except for Jungkook replies. “Hi Jungkook” you say after not being met with a response.

He stays silent, holding the same sulked posture as before, not even acknowledging your presence.

You catch Jimin’s eyes. He gestures with his head to Jungkook as if to ask ‘what’s up’. You shrug because you have no clue what has gotten into him. You take the empty chair next to Jungkook and you can see him shifting in his chair uncomfortably. Your heart sinks in your chest, but you dismiss it. You look over at Jimin sitting on the opposite side of the table. He looks between you and Jungkook and you just know he’s thinking something. You both look at each other-- a silent conversation ensuing.

“Oh no. I forgot the cutlery” Mrs. Jeon jumps suddenly. She gets up when you interrupt.

“It’s okay. I can grab it” you gesture for her to sit down. “Do you want that special set?” you smile at her.

“It’s been a long time since we’ve all been together like this. I think it’s time we use it. This is a special occasion. The box is in the attic. Will you be okay?”

“It’s okay. I got it”  you put her concern to rest with a grin.

You glance at Jungkook who still hasn’t moved an inch as he is still playing with his fingers and ignoring everyone around him. You make way inside the house, and up the stairs to the second floor. The entrance to the attic is on the second floor. You turn right on the landing, moving towards your room and at the end of the hallway. You pull the rope which unfolds the ladder. It comes down, you climb it and reach the musty room.

It’s full of boxes. You rummage through them to find the one labeled cutlery. The box is quite heavy, but you manage to climb down with it safely. You push the ladder back up, and the door closes blending in with the rest of the ceiling. You carry the box down the first two flights of stairs, slightly shaking because of how heavy it is.

You lose your footing at the beginning of the third set of stairs and down you go five stairs. The box slips from your hand. A scream rips through the air. You manage not to hit your head. But your ankle twists during the fall. You’re laying on your side attempting to get up when everyone rushes into the room.

Jungkook is the first one to arrive. “Are you okay?” he helps you sit up and you wince.

It hurts so damn much, you can’t stop yourself from crying. “I- I am” you grimace. “I am fine” you croak through a strained voice, tears sliding down your cheeks.

“No. You’re not” he cups your cheeks to make you look at him. He inspects your head for injuries. “You’re not fucking fine” he’s pissed as he’s practically at the verge of yelling. “What the fuck were you thinking?” he slides an arm under your back, and the other under your knee as he picks you up off the floor. You lock your hands behind his neck, keeping your gaze cast down. You don’t want to look at him in this condition.“I am taking her to her room” he announces, and no one even gets a word in because he’s already started up the flight of stairs.

You try to contain your cries, but the pain is too sharp especially at your ankle. You can sense him looking down at you.

“What were you trying to do?” he shakes his head. You should have called for help, you idiot”

“Sorry” you snivel still not meeting his eyes. “I was just trying to bring the box down and I lost my footing”

You reach the room, and he kicks the ajar door fully open. Once you’re in, he kicks it close. He gently lays you down on the bed, adjusting the pillow underneath your head.

You wince in pain, wiping away the tears. For the first time you look at him and he’s pacing, like he was in the woods except he’s in his human form. “Where does it hurt?” he sounds concerned but it’s that angry kind of way. There is no softness in his tone, if anything its gruff.

“You don’t have to worry. I am okay”

“Bullshit” he stops and sits at the edge of the bed, as he takes off your shoe and sock to look at your ankle. He touches the ankle bone, and you inhale a sharp breath. “See” he shakes his head like he’s disappointed. “That looks like it’s sprained. You could have asked--”

“You for help?” you complete his sentence, full well knowing that’s what he intended.

His eyes flicker to you, but he doesn’t say anything. He begins to gently feel around your ankle for any other injuries, brows furrowing in concentration.

You watch him, as he continues to look for other wounds,or gashes-- scanning your legs, arms, and face. You can’t understand the sudden shift in his behaviour. “What are you doing?”

He stops to look at you. “What do you mean? I am checking for any other injuries” he says in a blunt tone and resumes inspection.

“That’s not what I mean” you push his hands away from your forearms just as he’s looking over for more bruises. “Why do you suddenly give a shit? What do you care if I live or die”

He opens his mouth, closes it, opens it again and shuts it, grinding his jaw. “I’ll grab ice” he ignores your question and gets up from the bed.

You tug him back by the hem of his sleeve. “I need an answer”

“I don’t have one” he yanks his arm, and the cloth slips from your fingers.

“This is what I am talking about” you bite the inside of your cheek just as he’s approaching the door “One minute you act like you give a crap about me, and the next you act like you wouldn’t blink an eye if I died”

He’s reaching for the doorknob when he turns around. His brown wide eyes stare back at you He scoffs. “I wouldn’t care if you died?” his disbelief reflects in his partly open mouth. Do you---” he covers his face with his hands, taking in deep breaths and letting his hands run through his locks before looking at you. “You have no fucking clue what you’re talking about” he turns around and reaches for the door when there is a knock.

He sighs in frustration. “Who the hell--” he opens the door.

Jimin stands on the other side of the door with an ice pack in his hand, and a bottle of what looks like medicine. Jimin peeks over Jungkook’s shoulder, about to say something. But Jungkook grabs the ice pack and medicine wordlessly and shuts the door in his face.

He walks back and presses the ice pack to your ankle, while holding the tiny bottle out for you.

“I don’t want it” you say sharply, looking to the side.

You hear him huff. “Do I look like I give a shit right now?” he seethes through clenched teeth.

You turn to him. “You know this whole tough guy act doesn’t scare me”

He pulls his lower lip between his teeth. If this were a cartoon he would have smoke coming out of his ears. “Just take it”

You study him, your gazes locked on each other. Neither of you even blink. His nostrils are still flaring and you’re still breathing heavily through pursed lips. “I hate you” you snatch the bottle from him and chug the bitter liquid down.

His expression changes for a moment-- the look in his eyes softens. He blinks, casting his gaze down momentarily. But then he’s back to carrying a frown on his face as he looks up at you. “You should. You shouldn’t like me at all” his tone gentler than before, hiding beneath it an infinity of disappointment that you catch.

“Well now I don’t. You damn well made sure of that” you grab the pillow next to you and hide your face behind it.

Seconds later you hear the door slam and that’s when you scream into the pillow.

Your ankle gets better in the next couple of weeks, but your relationship with Jungkook doesn’t. You’re still distant from each other. Still angry at each other. Your silent fight has tensed the atmosphere in the whole house. It’s awkward to say the least. Mr. and Mrs. Jeon skirt around you both, walking on eggshells whenever you are in a room together. Dinners are silent for the most part except for when his parents make conversation about their day.

You both ignore each other. Neither of you even looks in the direction of the other person. If you happen to pass each other in the house, you avoid each other.

Perhaps everyone has had enough-- especially Mrs. Jeon since she broaches the subject at dinner one night.

“Alright” she holds her fingers in a steeple. “What the hell is wrong with you two?”

You and Jungkook glance at each other wary of how she’s speaking because she never swears-- not even use the word ‘hell’.

You both say at the same time. “Nothing”

“Bullshit” she slams her hands on the table.

“Honey” Mr. Jeon looks at her.

She dismisses it. “ No. We’re going to address this”

“Mom” Jungkook looks at her warningly. “Don’t”

“What happened?” she looks at you. “He won’t tell me” she glances at her son from the periphery of her vision. “But I know you will”

“Nothing. I promise” you offer a half hearted smile.

“I wasn’t expecting this from you y/n” she sounds disappointed.

“Mrs. Jeon. I swear to you it’s nothing. Even if there is something we can sort it out amongst ourselves”

“Well that’s just the problem isn’t it. You’re not. You don’t even look at each other”

You avert your gaze sideways.

“Just drop it will you?” Jungkook sounds frustrated. “We’re good” he doesn’t even look sincere in the least bit.

You nod finding purchase in your lap, barely making eye contact with anyone.

“Whatever it is, apologize” she demands. She looks to Jungkook, raising her brows at him expectantly. She waits for him to say something. He avoids looking at her but she is persistent. It’s only for a few seconds but he crumbles under the pressure and mumbles a “sorry”

“Look at her and say it” Mrs. Jeon says curtly.

He looks at you, eyes meeting yours for the first time in weeks.

Something changes in you and once again you feel like crying just because he’s there.

“Sorry” he looks away, folding his arms across his chest and chewing on his lip.

“Well you can tell him Mrs. Jeon that if he isn’t going to mean it, I don’t accept it” you glance at her and then back at your lap, leaning against the chair. 

“You can tell her that this is all she’s getting from me” he looks at his mother too.

“Tell him that he’s the one who started it. So, if he can’t even own up to it there really is no point in talking about it” your cheeks feel warm as you keep your gaze fixed firmly on your lap.

“While you’re at it mom, you can tell her that she shouldn’t be talking about things when she doesn’t know what’s going on” Jungkook rolls his eyes.

Your nostrils flare and so do his. You’re breathing heavily, cheeks red and eyes wide. “Maybe Mrs. Jeon you can remind him that he never actually told me what his problem is” you glare at him.

She looks between the two of you and your both lower your gaze.

Jungkook scoffs, returning an equally contemptuous glare towards you. “I don’t have a problem. It’s not my fault she doesn’t understand I don’t actually want to talk to her”

“Great! you throw your hands in the air and look at his parents. “You can tell him he’s the biggest asshole I have ever met in my entire life and I regret ever feeling anything for him” you slam your hands on the table and storm off.

The breeze is cool as it caresses your face. You sniffle away the tears as they well up in your eyes. The woods seem to be the only thing that can comfort you. You walk down your usual pathway, hugging yourself against the chill. As you look around at the moon bathed trees, they look different to you. But they don’t seem as beautiful to you as they did when you were with Jungkook.

The whole forest feels different.

You reach the clearing once more where he found you. You’re overcome with emotion, and your eyes tear up once again. You choke a sob away. You sit against the same tree, look at the same clear sky blanketed by stars. His voice echoes in your head when he asked if he could give you a hug.

You don’t know what happened to that boy. You don’t know where he went and if he will ever come back. You thought he was a friend. But it turns out he wasn’t. He’s just a stranger that you used to know.

You’re immersed in your thoughts. You look down at your hands, a bittersweet sigh passing your lips.

There is a rustle in the bushes near you and you’re immediately on alert. You slowly stand up trying not to make any sudden movements. You look in the direction of the sound and see two glowing brown eyes staring at you.

Your breath catches in your throat. You don’t straighten up fully, for the fear of aggravating whatever animal it is, so you stay in a partly bent position, hands visible by your side.

The animal steps out from behind the shadows.

It’s a wolf-- a black one. It’s not Jimin because his fur is brown. It sure as hell isn’t Jungkook.

The wolf growls at you. It steps towards you like a predator towards prey.

Full blown panic sets in. You’re frozen on the spot. Your heart beats hard and fast, as if the sound rings in your ears. Is this how you die? Alone in the woods? Your whole life flashes in your mind. Among all of that the only name and face that echoes in your head is Jungkook’s  because you would hate to die and not have a chance to talk to him. That would be the biggest regret of your life.

The wolf is still approaching you, and it’s halfway there. It growls and snarls-- saliva dripping from its mouth.

“Oh please no” you whisper, as your knees begin to buckle.

The wolf takes a leap towards you. But at the end second, you see a white one knocking the black one out mid air. They both fly some distance and fall on the ground.

“Jungkook!” you scream running in his direction.

Those blue eyes look back at you as he gets up on all fours.He keeps growling at the other wolf.. You know better than to interfere, so you stay behind him. Both of them snarl at each other. The other wolf howls, probably to try and intimidate Jungkook. But then he howls-- it’s loud and fierce so much so that you have to close your ears. He then makes a sound that is a mix between a roar and a growl as he steps towards the wolf.

“Jungkook no” you hold your hand out for him but he’s just beyond your reach. He looks back at you. You shake your head. He turns to the other wolf and makes a sound that sounds like a threatening bark.

There is a moment where they both just look at each other. Then the other one whimpers and leaves-- tail between its legs quite literally.  

Your knees give out and you fall on the ground, sobbing and hugging yourself. Your cries fill the air. You sob hard enough to make your whole body shake. You have never felt such fear in your life and not just for yourself. You were more worried for Jungkook.

He comes running to you, fully clothed somehow. He immediately holds you in his arms. He holds you close, chin resting on the top of your head, as you bury your face in his chest, body shaking in his arms. You can’t even breathe  properly-- gasping for air with short shallow breaths.“Jungkook” you whimper, holding onto his shirt.

“I am here” he squeezes tighter. “I am right here. You’re safe”

“I-I” you pull back to look up at him, eyes swollen and red, tears still falling down your face in droves. “I thought you were going to...” you bawl again just at the thought of something happening to him. You hide your face against his chest, wrapping your arms against him so tight, you’re sure he’s having a hard time breathing.

“I am okay. I am not even hurt” he reassures you.

“I was so…” you hiccup. “Worried that--that s-some-something w-would happen to you” you manage to choke out the words.

“Look at me” he holds your face in his hands, wiping away the tears with his thumbs. “I am completely okay. I was worried for you. I was scared. I was so so scared” he gazes into your eyes, and you know he’s speaking the truth because he’s beginning to cry too.

You sniffle, trying to control your sobs so you can tell him. “The only thing I could think of was you. I didn’t want to die without talking to you. I was afraid I would never get to talk to you”

“Me too” he croaks. “You didn’t get hurt anywhere did you?” there is panic in his eyes as he suddenly realizes that.

You shake your head. “No. You saved me”

“I told you I’d always protect you didn’t I?” he snivels.

Your lips just in a pout, lips quivering. “How did you know?” you slide your thumbs against his cheeks to wipe the tears.

“I came to the woods to cool off for a bit” he stops to rub the tears from your cheeks as the water works start again. “I was just so pissed, so naturally my wolf took over and I transformed. I was just roaming around, when I could smell you. I followed your scent. I saw the whole thing and trust me, my heart almost stopped. I was waiting for the right moment to intervene and when that wolf jumped at you, I lost it”

“I am sorry I said all those things” you clutch the material of his shirt tighter, looking down.

“No. I started this whole shit and if I hadn’t you wouldn’t have gotten into trouble. I could have lost you tonight and it would have been my fault. I could never forgive myself” he takes your hands in his, curling his fingers in yours. “I am so so sorry”

“So we’re good?” you chuckle.

He doesn’t laugh with you. “Look, if this night has proved anything, it’s that you shouldn’t like me. I told you. Don’t like me. I am not right for you. I am not even good for you. Look at where I landed you tonight” his fingers begin to slip from yours.

“You’re wrong” you hold tight onto his hands.

“I can’t y/n” he avoids your eyes, his shoulders droop. He looks absolutely defeated.

“What’s the reason?” you press on. “Is it someone else?”

“No” he’s quick to shut down that train of thoughts in your head. “There’s no one else. But I can’t. You hold too much power over me. That’s exactly why I can’t”

“I don’t get it. You do all these things for me that no one ever has. Your actions say one thing and your words another. What am I supposed to do Jungkook?”

“Don’t like me. Stay far far away from me” he pulls his hands away from yours. “I’ll take you home”

“Jungkook-”

“I am taking you home” he says firmly, as he lifts you off the ground in his arms.

You hook your hands behind his neck. You let your head rest against the crook of his neck. You let him take you home because you’re too tired to fight. You don’t want to fight with him because you know that you love this man. If the night taught you anything, it was that.

“Y/n we’re going to be leaving” Mrs. Jeon hurriedly comes into the kitchen, opening up cabinets and grabbing food.

“Leaving?” your brows furrowed. “Where?”

“Jungkook’s dad and I have to go to the orphanage in the city for an event. We’ll be back by tonight. But Jungkook is home if you need anything” she packs up a bag full of food, probably for the journey since the drive to the city is 2 hours.

“Wait, you’re both leaving? Jungkook and I are going to be alone…?” your voice trails at the end, having been met with a dreadful realization.

Mrs. Jeon’s nose scrunches as she walks over to you. “Is everything okay?”

You’re too busy worrying so you don’t even hear her.

Mrs. Jeon calls out your name a couple of times before she physically has to shake you. “Y/n, what’s going on?”

You blink rapidly. “Oh nothing. Everything is fine. I just thought he would go with you too”

“We asked him, but he said you’d be alone at home so he’ll stay too”

“He said that?” your eyes widen. You don’t understand his concern.

She nods. “Mmhmm. He also said he will stay just in case you need something while everyone is gone. I would ask you to come too but I didn’t want you to feel bad”

You shake your head. “It’s alright. I’d cry the whole time anyway thinking of my parents” you chuckle. “But you know I can take care of myself”

Mrs. Jeon chuckles. “I know that. But tell Jungkook that because this boy was adamant on not wanting to leave you alone. I don’t understand him” she shakes her head, like any mother aggrieved of her child would. You can’t blame her though. He is a unique specimen.

“Yeah me neither” you purse your lips in a smile.

“Alright. We’ll be off then” she gives you a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “If he troubles you, call me right away”

“I will”

She makes haste of leaving, carrying the bag.

You spend a better part of the day hiding in your room, avoiding Jungkook. It’s the only place in the entire house where he won’t come. Not after everything that has happened between you. He’s honorable in that sense. Things have shifted between you once again. There’s no anger anymore. All of that has been replaced by awkwardness. Now if you see each other, you only nod at one another. Occasionally, you talk too. But it’s always surface level things. Nonetheless, it’s a step in the right direction.

At half past one though, your stomach starts to grumble and gradually all you can think about is food. It’s a relief in a way because it distracts you from him. You spend ten minutes trying to persuade your brain that you’re not actually hungry.

“I am not hungry” you chant it like a mantra hoping that at least for a while it will go away.

After agonizing and torturing yourself for half an hour, you give in.

“Fuck this” you grumble as your hunger gets the better of you. You drag yourself down to the kitchen. Unlike last time though you don’t tiptoe around the house.

You go into the kitchen, open the fridge to find two plates already filled with food. A note, no doubt from Mrs. Jeon is stuck into the cling film: don’t forget to eat.

You grab a plate for yourself, leaving the other one in the fridge for Jungkook. You’re about to shut the door, when you change your mind. This may serve as an excuse to talk to him. At the end of the day, you’re going to be living in the same house. So you figure you can’t go on avoiding him.

You grab the second plate, heat both of them in the microwave.

You head back upstairs, where the bedroom’s are. You turn left at the landing towards his room which is at the end of the hallway. You stop in front of the door, and seeing as your hands are full you settle for calling his name. “Jungkook, you in your room? I got food”

You wait, but there is no response.

“Jungkook” you call again.

No response. Finding yourself with no other choice left, you somehow manage to balance the plate on your forearm. With the free hand, you turn the handle.

You peek your head inside to find the room empty. Just as you’re about to leave your eyes catch something at his bedside table. You know you shouldn’t go inside, but you can’t help it. You leave one of the plate’s on his bedside table  because you can’t lug three things around. You grab it, meaning to ask him about it when you find him.

You close the door, and head back downstairs. You walk the whole of the first floor from the dining room, living room, kitchen, family room calling out his name. But he’s nowhere.

“Maybe he’s in the basement” you think to yourself as you head downstairs. You walk down the steps.

It’s dark save for the blue LED lights running along the ceiling. You walk in further turning the corner from where the pool table, and the arcade game machines are. You remember that before Jungkook left he had set up one half of the basement as his gaming room.

Sure enough as you near the room you hear sounds of gunshots, and rifles and some mild cursing which makes you chuckle.

You don’t bother knocking as you enter. The same blue LED lights adorn the room. You can see his black mop of hair against the couch.

“Are you hungry?” you say tentatively as you stop next to the couch.

He immediately stops playing, throwing his remote on the ground as he turns to you. He takes off his headphones. You notice his hair is tied up in a bun, which manages to make your heart skip a few beats.

“Oh hey” he says, straightening up. “You didn’t have to” he notices the plate in your hand.

“Your mom said you haven’t been eating” you hold the plate for him and he reaches for it.

“Thanks” he offers a pursed lip smile. He takes the plate and sets it aside on the side table. A few beats of silence pass. He taps his fingers against one another, something you notice he does when he’s nervous. His eyes stay fixed on his hands.

“Will you make me a promise?” you look at his profile.

He clears his throat. “Depends on what it is”

You roll your eyes, fully expecting that response. “Just say you will”

Your persistent gaze makes him shift uncomfortably in his spot. He sighs, looking ahead at nothing in particular, while thinking over your request. He turns to you. “Fine”

“Promise me if I ask you questions, you will answer. It can be anything”

“That doesn’t sound very fair” his lips quiver at the corners, a hint of smile making an appearance. “What if I don’t want to answer”

“Too bad” you narrow your eyes at him. “You don’t have a choice. So?” you raise your brows giving him an expectant look.

He considers your demand, looking back at his hands again. “Well looks like I don’t have a choice”

“Good. Because I am asking right now”

At this, he looks at you wide eyed.

“Now?”

You nod. “Mmhmm. Tell me why you won’t act on your feelings”

He opens his mouth to speak but you cut him off. “Don’t deny it. If you didn’t feel anything for me you wouldn’t have lost your shit the day I hurt my ankle and you sure as shit wouldn’t have risked your life for me” you remind him. “And you wouldn’t have put this next to your bed” you bring forward the picture of you and him Mrs.Jeon’s friends had taken-- the one where you’re both looking at each other as he holds you by the waist.

He lets out an exasperated sigh. He rubs his hands on his face, resting his elbows on his knees as he keeps his face covered. He pulls his hands away , crossing them together. He looks at you, trying to determine how he should begin. “You’re right. I do have feelings for you. I’ve been here before y/n and…” he pauses, swallowing thickly.

“And what?” you prod, placing the photo frame next to you.

“She was beautiful. You should have seen her. She was amazing, just beyond I could express. Everyone here loved her. We used to spend every day together. Her parents hated me for it” he lets out a chuckle, a nostalgic look in his eyes.

“What happened?”

“She-- she died”

Your mouth hangs open. “I am so so sorry. I had no idea. I am sorry. Just.. forget I asked. I don’t need to know” you feel guilty immediately.

“No. It’s alright. I’ve already started. There was a fire in the woods years ago and she died in that. Some humans were having a bonfire and they left the fire burning. It caught on and somehow she got stuck in the middle of it with no escape” he looks down at his hands yet again.

You shift closer to him and wrap your arms around his shoulders resting your head on against the crook of his neck. “I am really sorry”

“Thank you” he places a hand on your forearm, leaning his cheek on your head.

“If I had known, I never would have pressed you. I feel like an asshole” you mumble.

“You’re not an asshole” he replies.

“I get it now and I promise you I won’t ever ask you to consider your feelings for me again” you lift your head and place a kiss on his cheek.

His lips curve up in a grin immediately and he is quick to place a kiss on your cheek too. “You’re amazing” his gaze locks with yours.

“I know” you grin. “Can I ask you something else too... ?” you say tentatively.

He nods. “Anything”

“Did you… did you imprint on her?” you ask, noting just how close you’re sitting to him. You can smell his breath, and feel it on your face as he beholds you in the most loving look in his eyes.

A coughing fit ensues for Jungkook, and you unwrap your arms from his shoulder, in favour of gently patting his back. “Sorry. Bad question hey?”

“No” he dismisses with his hand. “It’s just I’ve never been asked that”

“Forget I asked” you shake your head.

“No. I promised. Not her. Only my human side loved her. To imprint on someone all of me, including my wolf has to feel something. That’s the only way werewolves can imprint and it would be a far stronger bond than what I had with her” he sighs. “I have imprinted on someone. Not her” he finally answers your question.

“Oh my god” your heart sinks. “I- I have no idea what to say” you shift away from him, feeling like you’ve violated some rule. As if you have made him cheat on someone with you.

“Y/n” he says as soon as he sees your body language tensing. “It’s not what you’re thinking”

“No” you shake your head. “I am sorry. I am so sorry. I am so fucking stupid” you get up abruptly and march off while he calls out for you.

As is customary every third Friday of the month, the children from the neighbourhood gather around the campfire. This time Jungkook is there so he’ll have to answer all their questions.

Everyone sits around in a circle, some on the logs and others on chairs. Jungkook and you sit on opposite sides of the fire, Your eyes are fixed on the embers burning away. He holds a stick as he’s poking at the coal to keep the fire going. Your eyes meet momentarily as you both look up, but you look away first, busying yourself with watching the fire burn away the wood once more. You can still however feel his gaze resting on your face. But you’re too resigned at this moment to feel anything but emptiness.

“Is everyone ready?” Jimin comes along, absolutely chirpy and the complete opposite of how you look and feel. That’s when you sense Jungkook looks away. Jimin settles into the empty spot on the log next to you. He passes around drinks to the group. He offers you one too, but you decline. “Hey” he nudges you.

“Hmm” you turn your attention to him.

“What’s going on with you? Everyone’s been asking me what’s up”

“Nothing’s up” you shrug. “I am absolutely okay”

“If you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine. But at least don’t lie” Jimin purses his lips in a smile.

“Sorry Jiminie. I am just not feeling great. I’ll be okay I promise” you note with a half assed smile.

“So who wants to go first and ask Jungkook questions” Jimin turns to the group once he’s assured by you. The group is made up of mostly older kids in their late teens. But there are some younger children mixed in the group.

A chorus of ‘me, me ,me, me’ starts up.

“How about we go one by one” Jimin suggests and the sea of hands in the air disappears.

“How was the city?” someone from your side asks. But you couldn’t be bothered to know who.

“It was good.” he sighs, poking the fire logs once again. “But it was dull compared to this place” his eyes flicker to you momentarily.

You catch him, if only for a second and then look at your hands as you fiddle with them.

“Did you find a human mate? I am sure you met very pretty girls” one of the girls asks. The question you piques your interest.

You remember she was the one who excitedly told you Jungkook was back.

He doesn’t respond immediately which only makes you think that he did meet someone there. Why wouldn’t he? She’s probably the one he’s imprinted on. You would leave were it not for Jimin who holds your wrist with a shake of his head as soon as he sees you’re about to get up.

“I did meet girls.” Jungkook says, looking at the little girl. “But they are nothing compared to someone else I know” he shifts his gaze to you once more. “She’s beautiful, but she doesn’t see it that way” he looks right at you, like he’s speaking to you, and you only. Time seems to stand still momentarily because he acts like no one else is around. “It’s a shame because she really is the most beautiful girl I have ever met” he holds your gaze, rendering you unable to look away.

You hear aww’s and squeals from all around you which pulls you away from the trance and blinkingly you avert your gaze.

“Does she know you like her?” someone else asks, this time a boy.

He shakes his head. “I don’t know. I think she does. By the way, I thought this was about exchanging stories about our ancestry” he looks around at everyone.

“Yeah. We hear those every month. But this is much more exciting and romantic” one of the older girls probably in her late teens replies, and everyone agrees as they nod or offer a ‘yes’ in agreement. “Tell us more. What’s it like to imprint on someone?”

“Are you sure we should be talking about this? Aren’t they young?” Jungkook looks at Jimin.

“They won’t tell if you don’t. Right guys?” Jimin chuckles and everyone nods eagerly.

“Alright then” Jungkook continues.

At this point you really want to leave because you don’t want to hear about how she makes him happy, and how his whole life has changed because of her. But you stay because some part of you is still holding onto hope of you and him.

“It feels like gravity is shifting from underneath you. When you look at her, you can see everything clearly. It’s as if your past, present, and future come together all at once and everything makes sense. It’s as if you finally find the ‘why’ of your existence. You’ll be anything for her-- whatever she needs be that a protector, a friend, a lover. Anything… he trails.

“That’s so romantic” the girl squeals dreamily. “I want that too”

Jungkook laughs. “Any other burning questions?”

“When are you going to tell her?” another question comes which only furthers your resolve to leave. You get up, having had enough of it. The moment you stand, everyone turns to look at you. Without a word, you begin walking towards the house.

“Don’t you want to know who it is y/n?” Jungkook yells as you leave,  his words halting you in your steps. You feel everyone’s eyes darting back and forth between you and him.

You look over your shoulder. ‘I already told you”

“I think you’ll want to know,” he replies. You hear the crunch of the grass beneath his feet as he walks towards you. He gently places a hand on your elbow to turn you around. “Just let me tell you”

You glance up at the man. “I won’t be a--able to hear it” your voice cracks.

“I did imprint on someone—“

“Jungkook” you say warningly.

“Just listen to me” his grip on your elbow tightens, his jaw tightening.

“Jungkook please” you beg just as your eyes begin to water. You avert your gaze to the side. “Please. I cannot do this” you shake your head.

“I love her” he continues anyway despite your protests. You know he’s looking at you. But you can’t. You can hear the pain in his voice which makes everything so much more worse because that means he could never love anyone the way he loved her. “ She makes everything make sense and-”

“Just stop” you yank your elbow away from his hand and walk away.

You sit at the edge of the pier which juts out to the side from the boardwalk. just as the sun begins to set behind the mountains. The night market bustles in the distance. Crowds and crowds of people and come and go. Yet you feel calm, just watching the waves ripple beneath your feet. You dip them in the cold water, shivers running through your body. You splash the water, trying to pass your time.

You would have gone to the woods but given everything that has happened in that forest, you’re not too fond of it at the moment. This time Jungkook won’t be there to protect you. He’s out with his friends somewhere. You didn’t bother to ask where, not that it is any of your business.

From the periphery of your vision you can see a group of guys jumping down on the wooden planks of the pier.

You feel disappointed because you won’t have the space to yourself anymore.

They’re laughing, and being boys in general which makes you roll your eyes.

They pass by behind you, being as loud as ever. You ignore their incessant and annoyingly loud voices as you focus on the sun which is still in the process of setting. You close your eyes, the wind blowing softly against your face, and through your hair.

“Y/n?”

You instantly whip around to come face to face with none other than the man who had made a home out of your thoughts.

“Jungkook? You’re here?” You question, using your hands to push yourself up.

“Careful” his hands come out as if to hold you in case you fall.

“It’s okay” you tuck strands of hair behind your ears. “I am fine”

“I was just with my friends” he turns behind, and points to them while they stand a respectful distance away. They wave at you and hesitantly you wave back. “Why are you here?”

“I needed to get out of the house. The woods aren’t exactly my favorite place right now. So I thought why not come here” you shrug.

He nods, sliding his fingers in his jean pockets, rocking back and forth on his toes. “So…”

“So…” you fold your arms across your chest out of sheer self-consciousness.

“Do you maybe want to-” he starts.

“Hey Jungkook” a random girl throws her arms around his shoulders from behind, chin resting on his shoulder.

You look between the two of them.

This must be her. She’s pretty

“I thought we were gonna go eat” she pouts at him questioningly.

He doesn’t look at her as he speaks. Instead he locks eyes with you. He stares at you— wordlessly, like he’s lost in you. “Yeah” his reply is intended for her.

“Well introduce me, won’t you?” she looks at him and then at you.

“This is…” he’s still looking at you and you only.

“I am Alix” she extends a hand, much too cheerfully.

“Y/n” you can only manage to press your lips to feign a smile.

“Ohhh” her mouth opens in realization and she looks at him, like she’s impressed.

This time he looks at her and nods.

“Well y/n, do you want to come to dinner with us?” she offers kindly. But to your ears it’s anything but.

“No. I am alright. But thank you” you look at her. “See you at home Jungkook”

“Just come” he says just as you’re about to turn around to leave.

“I have to do some stuff at home” you say listlessly. “I’ll see you tonight” you reply with a ghost of a smile.

Yet again you turn away from him, not even waiting for his response.

You walk all the way back home, thankful that the way back is quiet, and not many people are around. You take the road from the pier that merges into the street that leads to your house up the hill.

You kick your feet beneath you, sighing heavily every so often. A fluttery feeling intensifies in your stomach the closer you get to home. Your chest feels heavy, a dull ache coming on. Your breathing quickens pace, not so much from the effort of walking up the hill but the mental exhaustion that you’ve faced in the past few weeks.

Love fucking sucks.

Your thoughts are occupied by Jungkook and Jungkook only. Every thought begins and ends with him and soon enough your head is full of memories you spent with him-- good and bad. It’s like a movie playing in your head-- beginning with the first time you saw him after he came back, and just a few minutes ago to Alix and her perfectly pretty face. How could he not love her?

By the end of it, you’re positively bawling your eyes out. Tears upon tears cascade down your face, with no indication of stopping anytime soon. You wipe your nose with the back of your hand, sniffling. Your legs become heavy with the weight of carrying you up the hill. Your head hurts, and you’re sure you’ll faint if you don’t sit down soon.

You quietly continue to sob, head hung low as you reach the gate. You push it open. Your feet drag beneath you, a heavy tread leaving marks of soil from the walk up on the cemented pathway. You open the door to the house, only to hit your head on something.

“Ow” you mumble, rubbing the spot that’s starting to ache. It only makes you sob more. “What the hell...” you lament under your breath, beginning to cry with the force of someone writhing in pain on all fours. You fall on your knees, everything inside you giving up. You cry the way a child does-- hiccuping, heaving to catch your breath only to have it be drowned by another wave of painful sobs.

“Just stop” Jungkook’s voice cracks, as he falls to his knees in front of you too. “Stop doing this to yourself” he croaks.

“I don’t know how to” you strain.

“I can make it all go away y/n” his cheeks are stained with tears too. He gathers you in his arms just like he’s done before. He kisses the top of your head. “Just let me make it go away. Please”

You break the embrace to look up at him through tear soaked eye lashes. “You can’t” your voice quivers.

“If you just…” he stops to take a deep breath, arms loosely wrapped around your back. He’s defeated into silence by your cries.

“It hurts” you clutch the material of his shirt., tucking your chin into your neck “It hurts so so much”

“It’s you”

You don’t even hear him, as you hide your face behind your hands, your body shaking due to your forceful sobs.

“It’s you.” he says again. “Listen to me. For once. Please” he’s begging you at this point.

You uncover your face to look at him. “What?”

“It’s been you all along”

“Wh…” your mouth remains open as you gawk at him. You hastily wipe your face with your hands as if that will somehow help you make sense of it.

“It’s you” he says in a whisper. “It’s you” he looks into your eyes this time--really looks as he says it for the third time almost like he’s saying it as a mantra. “I love you”

As if on cue, you stop crying because his words sink in. You don’t just hear them, you understand them. You begin connecting the dots. “Holy shit” you look at him daze. “I never even gave you a chance to speak” you bemoan that fact.

A bittersweet chuckle softly crosses his lips. “You didn’t. If you had, you wouldn’t have tortured yourself like this. Couldn’t you see it?” he searches your eyes for an answer that will make sense to him.

“How could I have? You’re you and I am me-- clumsy and stupid. You acted like there was someone else this whole time” you rub your eyes to dry the tears away.

“You never gave me a chance to tell you. I tried so many times. That night in the woods when I said I feel what you feel, you misunderstood that as being part of my abilities as a werewolf. But that’s not true. I feel every emotion you feel and I feel it ten times more than you because I imprinted on you .Then I tried to tell you during our conversation in game room and you walked away”

“Then why didn’t you do anything? Why didn’t you just act on it? You should have stopped me”

“You know why” a slight frown adorns his forehead.

You gulp hard, realizing the depth of what you just said. An apology is just at the tip of your tongue. “I know I said I wouldn’t ask you to consider my feelings ever again. But Jungkook, I can’t. Being around you overwhelms me. All I want to do is be around you, have you in my sights and when you’re not I feel disappointed and sad. I miss you every single second of the day when you’re not there. ”

“I have seen the entirety of us y/n-- everything that was, is and all that is to come ”

“I’ve imagined a whole future with you too”

He doesn’t respond.

Your stomach feels tight, your chest feels like something is pressing on it as his silence continues. Your gaze doesn’t leave him for even a second. You feel like you’re naked, as if the whole of you is on display, vulnerable to the point where even a single look will be enough to make or break you.

“I am just asking you to love me” your soft voice doesn’t dampen the gravity of your words.

He scoffs. “That’s just it though. I don’t just love you. I am bound by you. I am bound to you for the rest of my existence. That’s far scarier than love”

“I don’t know how to reply to that. All I know is I am in love with you exactly the way you’re in love with me” you shift closer to him, locking your fingers in his. “Because I can’t deny you any more than you can deny me”

He looks down and plays with your fingers. “That’s true. But I haven’t stopped thinking about the night you got attacked. What would have happened if I wasn’t there? What would I have done with myself if something happened to you?” his words reflecting the guilt he’s been feeling.

“Quit blaming yourself” you chide him. “Anything can happen to me, or to you at any given time. So stop worrying about that and keep your promise of protecting me. It’s not like you can switch this off”

“Not any more than I can stop breathing” he replies.

“Then love me. It’s simple. Jungkook, we either do this, or we don’t” it’s not that you are giving him an ultimatum, but it’s a fact.

“You know as much as I do, that even if in some ridiculous world I wanted to say no, I couldn’t. So you don’t have to worry about me not loving you. Because that just isn’t possible. Not only because I chose you but because that’s just how it is”

“Then what are we doing here?”

“I already told you I love you. You know that I do”

“And that’s supposed to be it?” you raise your brows at him.

His lip quivers into a lopsided smile, the solemn mood beginning to shift. “Tell me what you want”

“Just kiss--”

His lips on yours quiet down your thoughts to nothing. Shivers cascade down your body in waves. He invades each of your senses. The fluttering in your stomach grows intense. His lips feel soft against your own.

Jungkook keeps his eyes slightly open, taking a guilty peek at your face. He still couldn’t imagine if this was a figment of his imagination, or if the universe had gifted him this moment just at the right time. But he felt thankful for it beyond words could express. Every breath he took smelled like you— like water lilies.

“I’ve wanted to do this for a very long time.” he breathes heavily. He doesn’t even give you the chance to speak because he’s pressing his lips to yours once again— softly and gently. His hands run the sides of your body, the material of your shirt gathering together, exposing your skin.

He guides you up without breaking the kiss, pulling you in to erase every inch of space between your bodies. You can feel every contour of his body against your own. You hold him tight, trying to take in the feeling.

His hands slide under your thighs as he picks you up, you wrap your legs around his hips, as he takes you inside the house. He carries you as if you don’t weigh anything— through the house and up the stairs to his room.

“What” kiss. “About” kiss. “Your parents?”

“Not” kiss  “here” he mumbles between a kiss.

He kicks the door open and carries you in until your back hits a wall. He gently lets you down, till the tips of your toes are touching the floor. He breaks the kiss. “You know I won’t do anything you don’t want right?” his gaze, fixated on your eyes.

You nod, running your tongue over your lips and tasting him.”How could I not want this” you pull him by the nape of his neck, unable to bear even one second of distance. He happily obliges, melting into the kiss with a content sigh. It kind of feels like you’re drunk because there is a slight buzz and your mind feels hazy. You’re thoughtless at the moment, and your entire body is burning. Kissing him, touching him-- is all the intoxication you need to feel out of control. Neither your mind, nor your body is acting under your direction anymore

Your whole being is responding only to Jungkook. Every kiss, every soft touch, every caress, every stroke elicits a reaction from you.

“Tell me what you want, baby” he asks, leaving a trail of kisses down your neck and to your chest. “Tell me exactly what you want” his mouth parts against the skin of your neck as he bites down gently.

You can’t help the moan that passes your lips and fades into the air. “You”

He inhales sharply at your words as if that is enough to turn him on. He lifts his head up to look at you “You wanted me to love you right?” he pushes your thighs out by burying his leg between yours. He pushes his thigh against you exactly where you’re aching for him.

“Oh my god….” your voice fails you.

“I’ve thought of you so many nights, for so long” he pushes in more and you grind your hips against his thigh.

“I want more” you can’t help but mumble. “Please”

A corner of his lip raises in a smirk. “Your wish is my command” . He swipes his thumb against your clothed clit. “Is this what you want baby?”

You nod, a whimper crossing your lips as the sound of your heavy breaths fills the air.

You continue to rock your hips against his thigh, while he continues to rub circles on your clit. “Does that feel good?” he asks, but before you can even respond he’s shoving his tongue down your mouth through your parted lips.

You moan into him. eyes shutting tight at the fluttery sensation between your legs. You clutch the fabric of his shirt, unable to hold yourself up longer as you clench around nothing in particular. You feel the adrenaline in every part of your body-- in the pounding of your heart, in your breathless noises, in the way your body grows warmer by the second.

You open your eyes to look at him, cupping his face in your hands. But he’s already looking at you. His pupils are dilated, irises beginning to change colour from his chocolate brown to blue while he continues to kiss you. His hand stops moving against your clit, and he removes his thigh from between your legs. At the loss of friction you feel like a starved animal, needing more, and more, and more. You didn’t think you could ever feel this way, but he was making you abandon all of your inhibitions and want whatever he could give you. You didn’t know if you would ever feel satisfied after what you started.

But Jungkook knows exactly how to pleasure you and then some more as he picks you up and leads you to his bed where he lays you down. He hovers over you, palms pressed into the mattress on either side of you. He gulps.”Are you sure?”

You only nod.

He shifts down, unbuttoning your jeans, and sliding them out from under your legs. He throws them on the floor. He parts your legs, resting his upper body between your legs. He doesn’t waste any time, as he licks a strip on your clothed clit.

“O-oh- oh my….” your fingers curl around his hair, and you push his mouth flush against your core.

He moans against your flesh, laying kitten licks against the sensitive skin. The friction tenses the knot in your stomach even more. Just when you think there’s nothing more he could do, you feel your insides being stretched as he pushes a finger into you. Your back arches at the sensation. He buries his finger knuckle deep,curling it and inside you and hitting that sweet spot. Broken moans and gasps cross your mouth, while your toes curl from all the pleasure.

Seconds tick by and turn into minutes which turns into hours and just like that the night flies by. You don’t know how many times you come undone under him, above him. You stopped counting after the second time because you weren’t even in a state where you could think about thinking anything.

You lay under the sheets facing each other--limbs entangled and noses almost touching. Every few seconds the tip of his nose touches yours as he moves in to kiss you, but then he stops.

“Stop being a tease” you pout at him.

He laughs, showing his pearly whites. His eyes crinkle at the corners just like they do when he’s happy. He leans in, to place a peck on your lips. Then he shifts his head up to kiss your forehead. Then gently, he places a tender kiss at the tip of your nose. He pulls your hand into his as he brings it to his lips, laying down gentle kisses on each knuckle.

“Who taught you how to be romantic?” you tease

“I’ve always been romantic” his gaze locks with yours, a gentle smile coming onto his lips.

“By the way what did you talk to Jimin about that day?” a sudden curiosity shifts the subject.

A look of realization crosses his face “Ah” he says. “I told him about you”

“So that’s why you were pissed” you chuckle.

“Pissed?” his brows crinkle together.

“You were jealous of course. You looked like you were going to kill him” a corner of your mouth lifts into a smirk.

“No. I wasn’t. That’s childish stuff. I just thought he should know that at that time you were kind of taken. Not really but you know…”

You tap his nose. “If you say so” You trace the outline of his face with your fingers. “Are you happy?” you whisper.

“More than I can tell you. Are you?” he licks his lips as his eyes flicker to yours.

“Mhmm” you nod. “Happiest I have ever been I think”

“Good” he kisses the back of your hand. “That’s all I want for you baby”

“I can’t believe you’re mine” you look into his eyes-- finding yourself falling in love all at once.

“You better believe it” his lips turn up at the corners into a grin. “I don’t know how much humans mean it when they say ‘forever’. But let me tell you us werewolves tend to take the stuff pretty seriously.”

You chuckle silently, huffing through your nose. “Your point being?”

“You better believe I am yours, because you’re forever y/n. Until my last breath”

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