#Does he outright have to decide to not follow his instincts of wanting to do good?

[caduschka]

Still obsessed over the implications of Cronus with no memories being a fundamentally good and helpful person.

[books-and-omens]

Okay okay, so I really want to talk about S2 Crowley.

I’ve been thinking about who Crowley is in the book and who he is in the show, and the gap is significant. (@tbutchaziraphale has fantastic meta over here which I think is spot on.)

Book!Crowley is an optimist, yes? I mean, we’re outright told this:

“Because, underneath it all, Crowley was an optimist. If there was one rock-hard certainty that had sustained him through the bad times—he thought briefly of the fourteenth century—then it was utter surety that he would come out on top; that the universe would look after him.”

Honestly, what a thing for a fallen angel to believe! And to me, it’s powerful, yes, but it never quite answers the question: where is he getting that certainty?

Tv!Crowley, in the meantime, is emphatically not this. He’s never been an optimist, not even in S1—although in S1, it might have been easier to look at A & C and consider them essentially similar to their book selves if a little out of sync.

In S1, Crowley gives the whole “don’t test them to destruction” speech. He cares about humanity deeply, even if he won’t admit it. He will try to stop the Apocalypse.

And there is still a moment when he feels helpless. When he has no innate optimism to carry him through, no deep belief in the universe looking after him or anyone. When his instincts tell him to run, and he tries to follow them. When he despairs. Aziraphale pulls him back out of that despair; they make a stand together. As we know, it works.

But the thing is, the thing is. I find tv!Crowley’s lack of optimism so very relatable.

I find despair so very relatable, too.

We live in an age of deep anxiety. (Climate change, anyone? Just for starters! The promise and wonder of the Moon landing and the end of the Cold War are far in the past; day to day, we deal with the effects of capitalism, of reactionism, of continued exclusionism. It’s far too easy to feel helpless.)

So in S2, Crowley is very much the same character as he was in S1, except we see it even clearer.

He is not an optimist. He wants to run; he wants to escape when faced with Gabriel’s arrival; he wants to protect Aziraphale and himself, and believes that the best—perhaps only—way to do that is by them retreating as far away from the problem as they can.

In Heaven, Crowley finds out about The Second Coming. His need to escape and to keep his angel safe become overwhelming. But he doesn’t tell Aziraphale about the Second Coming, does he? And his repeated offer to run away together doesn't even make sense to Aziraphale. (Not that Aziraphale would want to run if he knew. Quite the opposite, in fact, which Crowley must know.)

Anyway, Crowley already knows that the clock is ticking. Aziraphale is about to find it out. (Do you notice how often, in the last fifteen minutes of S2, we hear nothing in the background but the ticking of a clock?)

And just—the despair, the desire to retreat and escape when you are faced with overwhelming odds, with a fundamentally broken system, are so relatable.

And yet escape has never been the answer.

I hope, of course, that this is what we’ll see in S3 if there is a S3. Crowley deciding, emphatically, that running away is not the answer. 

We didn't get there yet. We were dropped out of the story at the darkest point.

But I think being at this point is precisely what makes Crowley’s confession at the end of S2 transcendent.

Because it’s the same conflict, isn’t it, except on a personal scale. Despair in the face of overwhelming odds, followed by the decision to not give up.

Crowley, who’d been ready to confess, sees what is likely to happen. He sees the way the deck is stacked against him, sees that he is unlikely to get through. He feels the coming loss. 

And then he does it anyway. 

He confesses anyway. He says what he has set out to say, gasping and clawing for every word. He does it at the point when everything appears lost.

And no, we don’t see the effects of it, not yet. We don’t see what he has launched, the hook that sank into Aziraphale, the change it has wrought in Crowley himself.

But his bravery won’t be lost.

We live in a dark timeline. I maintain that this is precisely what makes this story so compelling.

Be brave. Do the difficult thing anyway. Do it anyway. Do it anyway.

Even in the face of overwhelming odds. Especially in the face of overwhelming odds. While not being an optimist in the slightest.

This is what hope is.

This is what we have to do.

(And to all of us who’d lost a comfort story: I’m so sorry. I, too, am still grieving for it. I know, I know.

Emphatically: all is not lost.)

[whateverisbeautiful]

♥️ Ranking Richonne

#15: I'm Gonna See/You Ready? (S5E11)

Ok, one last tie. 🤗 The Distance is one of the goated Richonne pre-canon episodes. I always enjoy this one for showing all throuhgout why Rick and Michonne are the most dynamic duo. They lead so well together as partners, parents, and as two people who genuinely care about each other. The episode has several great Richonne moments, but two specific ones get a tie for 15th place on this list because they're both really special...

(Also honorable mention to their scene at the top of this ep when they give married vibes as Michonne lets Rick know her look was not a "let's attack that man" look lol. I always love that Michonne knows her look at Rick might have played a part in him punching Aaron and that Rick has this brief entranced look at Michonne like he's making a mental note to get better at reading her looks. 😋)

Rick and Michonne were undeniably partners and co-leaders during this whole episode. And after Michonne makes the call and tells the group they're going to Alexandria, Rick co-signs and they share this look in the barn that suggests 'we should talk privately' - which leads to their lovely top 15 moment alone outside.

Their private moment outside the barn begins when Michonne approaches Rick, who is working on a car. He's immediately getting this Alexandria plan in motion because when Michonne convinces him of something, his mind is genuinely made up to do what she thinks is best. #RealOne.

I love how the first thing Rick says is stuff about the plan, showing he’s really up for this and not at all upset about Michonne taking charge of the group. In fact, Rick seemed somewhat alleviated (and low-key turned on lol) by Michonne taking the initiative earlier in the barn. Then he voices that he wants Michonne to be with him when driving with Aaron cuz of course. 🧲

Rick mentions how Carl and Judith are safer in the RV, and this just tells you loud and clear that they’re the parents. That was evident when Michonne mentioned not wanting to pass up a place for Judith to live in this ep and then with Rick talking about the kids here. Look at this beautiful mom and dad, y’all. 🥰

Michonne is silent hearing Rick say this, and I will forever love that Rick notices the silence, looks up at her, and so sweetly asks, “You okay?” Like she always matters to him and even after trusting her instinct over his own with the plan, he still wants to check in on her and ensure she’s good with everything.

Michonne knows she can be candid with Rick, so she asks if he was for real when saying they’re going. It’s sweet cuz right here she gets to learn just how much Rick continually trusts her and will follow her lead.

And then Rick stands up and assuredly says they’re going. Michonne wants to confirm that they’re going no matter what it takes, and what proceeds to me has always felt like this moment of Rick really letting Michonne into the thought process he often has as a leader because he officially knows that she's his co-leader now.

So he shares this important insight and leader perspective with her and does it by asking good questions rather than just outright stating it, which is great and effective. I really like the dialogue in this scene.

Rick asks her what she heard outside the gates of Woodbury and Terminus, and Michonne answers "Nothing" both times, quickly getting and respecting where Rick is going with this. Their communication is just A1, even when they have a few different feelings about things.

Rick tells her how sometime tonight without seeing inside the walls he’s going to have to decide whether to bring his family in. I love the way he emphasizes 'family' when he says this. The best family man on TV. 🙌🏽 And I love that Michonne is included in that family that he’s so passionately talking about.

And again, I talk a lot about how Rick looks at Michonne throughout the series cuz I adore it, and he’s super attentive to her in this scene - but y’all, the way Michonne looks at Rick is also just so passionate and filled with love and respect. They both have this arresting effect on each other, and I’m beyond here for it. 

Then I love this part where Rick says Aaron asked him what it would take to believe his offer is real, and he admits, “Truth is, I’m not sure if anything could convince me to go in there…but I’m gonna see. I’m gonna see.”  Tell me this scene is not giving romantic. ❤️‍🔥 The way he pauses and leans toward her as he says he’s going to see. He looks right into her eyes as he softly repeats, "I’m gonna see." It’s for her, y’all. 🥰

The reason I love this scene is because Rick is pretty much saying that there’s only one thing that could really get him to take this kind of a leap...and it’s her.

What would it take for him to believe it’s real? Michonne. What could convince him to go in there? Michonne. Why is he going to see? Michonne. Of course, he wants a great place for his family to call home too. But at this point, Rick doesn’t seem to trust that Aaron’s story is even legit, so he really is taking this big leap because he is willing to trust Michonne’s gut even over his own. 

It’s a big deal and this scene was just a beautiful exchange between them that really further watered the seed for how Rick and Michonne will continue to operate as leaders and sounding boards for each other.

Richonne was just in their bubble the whole episode, and I know as a newcomer Aaron had to be looking at the rest of team family like...

And then there isn’t a better way to end this Rick and Michonne-centered episode than with this moment right here. 😍 One of my all-time favorite endings to a TWD ep.

I love that the very first scene at Alexandria is one between the two who will lead this place. Rick and Michonne pull up to the gate and sit side by side in the car outside the place tf will call home for the next 6 seasons, the place where they will build their life as husband and wife and expand their family.

But without knowing just how much this community is going to work out for them, right now in this 5.11 moment, they're just preparing to take a huge leap of faith to try and make yet another community work after experiencing many a fallen community.

Just from the jump, I’ve always loved that Rick and Michonne were in this car with their kids while the rest of TF was in the RV. It’s already setting them up as this inner family unit. Like there's found family among the whole group which is a beautiful thing - but then there's immediate family which for Rick is the three people in this car with him.

In this car are the people Rick feels most fiercely protective of which is why he wants the three of them with him as they approach this unknown territory.

Also I know Richonne didn’t become canon until they entered those Alexandria gates but, truly, in this moment they were already a couple. It was so clear, and it was only a matter of time before they called it what it was. 

They pull up to the spot, and Andy just does incredible acting with his eyes alone as his face softens upon hearing kids playing on the other side of the wall. 👏🏽 Andy really should have won every award for his acting throughout the series, but especially for his work in season 5.

Something subtle I’ve always loved about this moment is the fact that Rick is already looking at Michonne once the car stops. I used to think it was her putting her hand on his that grabbed his attention. But no. Even before then, in this extremely stressful moment for Rick where he has to fight to put his PTSD and paranoia aside and bravely go and see for the sake of his family - what does he do?...he looks to Michonne. 😊

She led him here. And he needs her reassurance right now. After all, pretty much the only reason he’s outside these gates right now is because of her.

Rick’s the leader who often has to put his own fear aside for the sake of his people, but here he can be a guy who's anxious and needs some reassurance cuz what they’re about to do is risky.

And because Michonne is his elegant and calming soulmate she gives him such precious reassurance when she takes his hand and smiles and asks, “You ready?” 😊

I appreciate that she asks him the question and how it’s also this motivational encouragement. And I love that this is Michonne's first time initiating this type of physical contact with him. That touch alone shows they’ve come a long way and she has come to trust and feel comfortable with Rick so much since her "don’t you ever touch me again" days in season 3.

And the smile and everything just feels like that attraction, that “something more,” that magnetic connection between them is slowly but surely becoming fully realized. The way she does this just communicates loud and clear that these two are in it together. Whatever’s on the other side of that ASZ gate - and I do mean whatever it may be - Rick and Michonne are going to get through it and ultimately come out stronger and closer than ever because they have each other to guide them. 

Another poetic element of this to me is that Michonne knows what it's like to walk up to a fence and not know exactly what you're going to find on the other side. That was her experience arriving at the prison in season 3.

But by showing up at those prison gates, she found something more valuable than gold - she found her family and the love of her life. The leap Michonne took to show up to a new place more than paid off.

And now here she is, side by side with Rick this time, and facing a new gate. And she's able to instill hope that this gate too can have good on the other side. 👌🏽

Also, it hit me that yes this is a shining moment of Michonne’s calming presence in Rick’s life - But Rick’s words also have an impact on Michonne too.

In that “I’m gonna see” scene, Rick tells Michonne how not hearing silence outside a community doesn’t necessarily mean it’s safe. So when they’re outside Alexandria, the fact that they hear children laughing and playing is a sign for not just Rick but Michonne too that this is different from those other places. I feel like she's recalling his words at this moment and finding comfort in them.

And to make even more of a connection, Michonne knows how reassuring it can be to see kids in the community cuz when she showed up at the prison, I truly believe that Carl and Judith being there and cared for by all the adults in the group is a factor in helping her know this place was more genuine than others.

Her conversation with Rick and the valuable insights he imparted helps her to feel more confident about getting out of this car and taking on this community. And she’s able to transfer that energy to Rick like only she can. 

After receiving the calming reassurance from Michonne, which always resonates with him, Rick then nods and gets out and goes to grab Judith and takes this huge game-changing step to enter this new community.

The power and love between Rick and Michonne is what got them here. Richonne is what got the entire group to their new home. And I love that in that sedan was the greatest family the show has seen. And once they entered those gates they’d only become more and more of a family. 👌🏽

In retrospect, I love this closing 5.11 scene for being the moment Alexandria got their king and queen. 👑 Those two upgraded the heck out of this place over the course of the seasons, to where it became a community that really thrived.

Don’t get me wrong, Alexandria threw them some obstacles when they first arrived, but they overcame them because when Rick and Michonne are united, this power couple can rise above anything. 

These two tied scenes show the way that Rick and Michonne are truly co-leaders and partners who care so much about each other as human beings and are in it together always. And I love that these scenes served as this reminder that Rick and Michonne are only growing closer and have something special between them that will flourish even more once they take the leap. 😌

[gold-rhine]

Sub! Heizou x GN Dom! Reader

A\N: Repost bc my previous blog got shadowbanned.

Warnings: nsfw, overstim, slight degradation, spanking, leash play, anal sex, cock stands for strap\cock as usual.

Wordcount: 3k

I don’t think there needs to be a lot of analysis to justify Heizou being a sub, it’s fairly intentionally in your face in both hangout and ahem, birthday “yawning” art, because that’s the most most obvious bottom “O-face” since Gorou’s “moaning and tearing up over the bowl of onions” emoji.

Like in two endings he straight up says out loud his confidence is partly a facade and he’d really love for someone else to sometimes step up and take the charge, but no one does bc ppl think he’s too smart.

”Haha, well, as you might see, I’m a little less confident than people might think.”

“And everyone around me thinks I’m so smart that I should be able to handle every case on my own.<...> But you’re different. Unlike them, you don’t have that kind of prejudice towards me. <...> So I’d like you to decide whether we should expose the truth or not.”

He’s not a pushover and he’s not a pillow princess-y type, but he’s also not a brat. He’ll encourage you to take the lead and won’t criticize your choices, but he will *evaluate them*.

First of all, on how well you’re keeping up with his hyperactive ADHD goblin nature, and second, he’ll leave the unspoken puzzle and see if you’ll manage to figure it out.

He’s open for experimentation and fairly shameless, but how far he’ll go pretty much depends on if he judges you competent enough for this.

Like, meeting him in the hangout starts with him openly calling Traveler “so dreamy”, and then he lets the Traveler decide what course of action to take, but only divulges hidden information after the Traveler showed that they have a deeper understanding of a situation and connected several puzzle dots themselves.

His inner conflict is when it’s immoral or not to withhold information and does it depend on how capable a person given this information is. The law does not really factor into this, Heizou will act on his own principles instead.

Like in the hangout case he only tells the Traveler that he will follow their choice (see above) after the Traveler presents him with the evidence and proves they have sound judgment.

So he’d *LIKE* to let someone else make decisions, but he wants to make sure that someone else is qualified. So he won’t like outright lie, but he will withhold context if you don’t show him that you get it.

Then he can get quite clingy, like telling Traveler that he’d love to have them as a partner all the time, haha he’s joking, he wouldn’t want to be so greedy…UNLESS???

In a situation where he does trust the other person’s competence, he likes to feel helpless, overpowered and needy, if you indulge him in it. His ideal situation is where you understand that he’s smart and capable himself and he doesn’t strictly need you to take charge, but would enjoy it.

He wants to have fun without anyone making it too weird, and he wants to know you have a clear head on your shoulders, that’s it.

One day while you’re walking down the street near your home, a group of obvious miscreants runs by and a young man in white shirt and brown shorts follows them. The last of ruffians shoves him while they’re running past you and you catch him to stop him from hitting a corner of a house with his head. When the bandit looks back, you instinctively shield a man in your arms with your shoulder, and the bandit obviously judges it not worth the trouble, runs away.

When you look at the man you’re holding, he’s looking up at you with a wide smile, bright green eyes twinkling.

“Oh, thank you, my savior!”

“I didn’t do anything,” you say, putting him upright. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, sure, I’m fine!” he suddenly pauses, looks you over and says in a weaker tone, leaning into you. “I mean, I’m a little not fine, nothing major, but perhaps if someone could look after me for just a little bit?...”

You take him to get coffee just to keep an eye on him and end up talking for hours. His name is Heizou, he’s flirty, fun and cute, has ruffled mauve hair and little twin moles under his eyes, asks more questions than he’d like to answer about himself, wears a choker and a shirt that leaves his sides bare, and would very obviously love to get dommed from how he talks to you. But you cannot in good conscience take advantage of him now, because his eagerness might be an effect from the shock, so you let him go.

Day later you talk with a neighbor and he mentions how the young detective who from his words meets Heizou’s description just caught a group of pickpockets.

“Detective, huh?” you ask out loud, and some things that didn’t make sense before fall into place. Like an exaggerated weak affect and how eagerly he pushed himself on you.

Couple of days after you walk into a confrontation in one of the secluded courtyards on the way to your home. There’s Heizou and opposite of him a group headed by the large white-haired oni. It looks incredibly awkward and staged.

“Oh, it’s my savior again!” Heizou says coquettishly, smiling at you. “Hello there! It seems you’re just in time to save me once again.”

“From what?” you say calmly, crossing your arms.

“From being mugged, of course.”

“So these guys need to be arrested, huh?”

A tall oni starts shifting nervously, looking back and forth from you to Heizou.

“Hey, hey, we didn’t agree on…”

A green-haired woman elbows him and he stumbles.

“I mean, you can’t arrest us, we’re big bad bandits, rawr!”

You ignore him, looking Heizou straight in the eyes. He pauses for a second, then pretends to be fainting in your direction. You catch him, rolling your eyes. Green-haired woman punches the oni in his side and they run away with the entire group.

“Oh, thank you,” Heizou says, looking artistically disheveled in your arms.

“No problem, Detective,” you say coldly and he tenses, straightens up.

“So you know…”

“Yeah. And I don’t appreciate being played for a fool.”

“Listen, it’s not like that… It’s just that I... I wanted you to treat me like a sub, but you didn’t do anything after we first met, and I thought maybe if you see me in an even weaker state...”

“I didn’t do anything because you seemed too irrational from shock. If you just told me the truth that you’re detective and were fine, you’d be spread on my bed few nights ago.“

He blushes, but his green eyes light up.

“I would? Oh, I mean, I am fine and we cleared the misunderstandings, so?... Um? About spreading?“

You shake your head, narrowing your eyes.

“Only come to me if you’re ready to drop your bullshit. I’m sure you can figure out how to find me, Detective.“

“Hey there!” he’s bouncing on your threshold a day after with the widest obnoxious smile, and you wouldn’t see the tinge of nervousness under it if you weren't paying attention. “So you said I can come if I dropped the bullshit and um, you can pat me over, including cavity search if you want, to make sure I haven’t got any on me”

You roll your eyes, hooking your fingers under his choker, pull him close and kiss him. He stumbles for a second, but then melts, throws his arms around your neck and presses against you. You can feel him getting hard as you pull him towards the bedroom and then throw him roughly onto the bed. He looks up, his green eyes sparkling in delight.

“Cavity search?” you say incredulously, crawling over him to slide your hands under his shirt and pulling off both of his layers. “That was terrible.”

“I know, I know, I panicked,” he moves his arms to help you get the shirt off, then pulls frantically at the ties of the armguards. “I was going to say you have a search warrant, but somehow it turned into a cavity search.”

“You’re lucky you’re so cute,” you grin against his cheek and pull his pants and underwear off in one smooth motion. He gasps, and when you grab his ankles and forcefully spread his legs, he blushes but looks you straight in the eye, already fully hard and breathless in excitement.

“I am? I mean, of course I am, but do tell me more about it.”

You kiss him instead, roam your hands over his slender body, and he arches under you, moans against your mouth. You slide your hand down, close it over hard, twitching cock and he whines, bucks his hips against your palm.

“Oh yeah,” he whispers feverishly. “Yes... Don’t be afraid to treat me rough…”

“Oh trust me, I won’t,” you grope his leaking cock and balls in your hand, firmly like you own them, and he whines sweetly, looking up at you with excitement in half-narrowed eyes. When you slide your hand down and circle his entrance, he comes immediately, pressing himself against you.

You chuckle, kissing him.

“In my defense, I spent some long nights imagining you touching me, so I’m not taking criticisms on how quick I came,“ he mutters, squirming under you, cheeks blushing brightly.

You grin and stand up, moving away.

“Well, you’re not getting away that easily, kitten. I’ll be back shortly.“

When you walk back to the bed, he has finished taking off the last piece of the guard and is waiting for you, naked except for the elbow-high fishnet gloves and a choker.

“I have something that I think you would like,” you smirk, showing him a leash and he gasps, visibly lighting up.

“Have you thought about becoming a detective yourself? That’s spot on.”

“It wasn’t a very hard deduction to make,” you hook your fingers under his choker, lifting him up, and he follows, grinning under the bitten lip. He’s so lovely in how blushing and eager he is while you’re closing the leash on his neck, looking up at you from under the ruffled bangs.

You turn him around, so that he leans against the bedrest and he giggles, settling down on his knees.

“Oh, great, I wasn’t sure how to breach the subject of… consequences of being naughty.”

“You don’t try playing hard to get, do you?” you grin, slide your hand from his intentionally arched back to caress smooth skin of the perky ass, obviously and eagerly presented for you.

“No, why, would you want me to?” he shoots you a sharp glance over the shoulder, analytical even now.

“No,” you say pleasantly and slap his ass, hard. He gasps, shudders, but arches even more, presses quickly reddening, tender flesh harder against your hand. You spread him and run your fingers between his legs.“I like it when you’re being open.”

“I don’t see the point in denying the obvious,” he says, still sounding mostly collected, if a little breathless in excitement. “And if I don’t show what I want, how will I get it?”

You strike his ass again, several times in a row, until it’s blooming red and he’s whining quiet and sweet, then you stroke it.

“Very logical of you,” you say, squeezing his sensitive ass while he’s squirming needily under your hands, and kiss the sharp curve of his shoulder, move his ruffled hair aside and get to his neck. “Unlike the stunt you tried to pull earlier.”

“Oh well, I miscalculated,” he says airly. “And it’s not as if I was trying to deceive you, it’s that I know that once people hear who I am they misjudge… the way I’d want to be treated. So I just wanted to make sure you get the right impression.”

You tug on the leash, pulling him close, his back against your chest. He gasps, arches his back and rubs his ass against you.

“Or you could’ve just said so honestly, you dumbass,” you run your hand over his chest down, close it over his cock and kiss him, still tugging on the leash. He kisses you back, eager and a little sloppy, rocks his hips, rutting against your palm.

“Well, taking your advice on speaking openly,” he whispers breathlessly after breaking a kiss, his eyelashes fluttering against your cheek. “I’m close again and I want to come from you fucking me.”

“Good boy.”

You pull him into your lap, over the strap\cock, and he squirms, straddling your knees. You catch his chin, while he’s lowering himself over onto the head of your cock, make him meet your eyes, his own hazy green, cheeks bright in blush, pink lips half-open and taking short feverish breaths. You put your hands on his hips and push him all the way down until you’re fully buried in him, and he moans, shuddering and arching in your arms.

“Ah! Oh yes, yeah, like that, oh fuck…”

He rides you, his hips moving rhythmically and his hard cock bouncing against his stomach, but when you close your hand over it, he whines, digs his fingers into your shoulders.

“Please, no, I’ll come too soon if you touch me…”

You let him go and chuckle, pepper kisses over his neck, chest, lick over his pink hardened nipple, while he’s whimpering pleas and fucking himself on your cock.

“You’re really such a slut, aren’t you?”

“Yes, fuck, I love it, I love how your cock feels inside of me, please…”

You tug on his leash, making him arch, suck on the tender juncture between his shoulder and neck. He comes just like that, screaming, his movements turning frantic. You push him down on his back, roll over him without taking your cock out.

“Can you take any more, kitten?”

“Yes.. yes, please keep fucking me,” he’s trembling under you, but says this firmly, looks you in the eye without hesitation, his ass clenching around you. “Use me like I’m your toy…”

You lift his legs up, pressing his knees against his chest, exposing his ass and thighs, still pink from spanking. You can see his oversensitive red cock getting hard just from being spread and exposed like that, and when you thrust deeply into him, he screams and tries to lift himself off the bed, writhing under you. You grip his hips and fuck him hard, hitting his prostate, until his mouth is going slack and his eyes roll over, his pleas turn into incoherent moans and whimpers.

You lean down, cock buried deep inside him, kiss the corner of his mouth. He whines, his arms tightening around your shoulders and his hips rolling to take you even deeper.  

“You've been very good, kitten,” you whisper against his parted lips, his green eyes glittering with held tears. “Come for me, baby.”

He comes after a few thrusts, clutching at you, and you fuck him through it until he goes limp. Then you slide out of him, let him curl against you, his chest heaving, trying to catch his breath. You hold him and gently stroke his hair until he stops shivering, giving him time to come to senses before you’ll move to clean up.

“How fast will you want me to leave?” he asks, quietly, but his voice is firm, neutral. “I know I can be annoying in large doses, so if you need me to get out, I can…”

You silence him with a kiss, slow and sweet to calm him down. “It’s okay, kitten, you don’t annoy me. Don’t worry about it, just rest.”

He freezes for a second and then suddenly presses himself desperately against you, clutches at your shoulders. You stroke his hair, neck, sharp knobs of his spine soothingly, whisper sweet nothings in his ear until his body relaxes. He rubs his cheek against your chest and looks up with a cheeky grin.

“I am lucky that I’m cute, huh?”

[avelera]

⭐️⭐️⭐️pleeease it’s always so interesting when you talk abt the “behind the scenes” of your fics

Hmm, well, as far as a section I've been dying to talk about for this fanfic writer meme... I have gotten some questions about who my take on Jessamy in "Giving Sanctuary" was before she died, so I could ramble about that a bit!

So it's funny about Jessamy because when I began, I was very resistant to including her in either GS or CLWM. We didn't really know anything about her except that she was a loyal raven and that she was somehow "better" than Matthew. My knee-jerk instinct was that meant she was a pushover and just did whatever Dream wanted, which isn't a really helpful character to have, especially in CLWM which is all about Dream learning how to act like a normal person instead of a king that everyone obeys unquestioningly.

But then in GS, I saw an opportunity for her to make an appearance, and that heavily shifted my view of the character now that I had a role for her to fill in the story.

(cut for spoilers!)

Originally, I considered having Lucienne and Hob communicate through a magic mirror in the Manor House while Dream was away, for example, since neither can go in or out of the Dreaming proper without Dream there to take Hob in further. But then at some point, the idea of pulling in Jessamy, who could pass back and forth to the Dreaming but who also couldn't bring Hob there corporeally, who could interrupt Dream's melancholy after Naxos, and maybe even get some info to Hob that he wouldn't get otherwise occurred. I probably figured this out around the time I decided this was a Jessamy lives story, for reasons that will occur later ;)

Anyway, my construction of Jessamy began story purpose-first. I needed someone who could give certain information to Hob. But, who would do that sort of thing? I began to think about Matthew, and how while he's cheeky with Dream, no one in the Dreaming, including Dream, seems to have a problem with that or find it unusual. It's his outright defiance of orders that Dream took issue with. That's very interesting, and heavily implies that Dream's raven, as a role, is allowed a certain latitude of candor with Dream, up to and including a bit of snark, so long as they follow his commands.

So, what kind of personality is both a loyal servant but also empowered to be a bit snarky with the king? That's a bit of a court jester figure, in a way, isn't it? Which is Matthew but that role in a Medieval court could also be fulfilled by a childhood nurse figure.

If you'll recall in Romeo & Juliet, Juliet's nurse is the truth-teller and audience stand in for a lot of the story, but she's also a comedy relief character. She fusses over Juliet and gives a lot of exposition and backstory. Despite her low rank, she's allowed to say things to those of high rank that another sort of servant would not be able to.

So I began to conceive of Jessamy's brand of mischief as that of the Shakespearean nurse figure, in a way that could explain why Matthew is allowed to get away with what he does, but which is wholly unique to Jessamy. She's not a deadpan snarker, she's a gossip. She also fulfills a bit of that court jester role and takes pride in making Dream smile, but unlike Lucienne, she's not entrusted with a lot of power as a result. She's a messenger and a court jester/nurse/confidante to Dream, but he would never tell her anything he doesn't want the whole kingdom to know. He also, as such, doesn't empower her the way he does Lucienne. That's the trade-off of her being able to speak so freely with him.

So, Jessamy the good-natured nurse/gossip who can give Hob and the audience the information we need, and who makes sense as someone Dream will mourn the way he does in canon as being so truly loyal to him, impetuous in her way, defiant but within strict boundaries of following all his orders but also being willing to skirt the line for his benefit, was born.

Now, Jessamy has flaws too. They're more implied than stated outright, but remember, character flaws are about characteristics that in some plotlines are virtues for a character but in others serve as obstacles.

Jessamy's flaw is that she takes incredible vicarious pride in being the Raven of the Lord of the Dreaming. She knows the full story of Dream and how he's 14 billion years old and all about his power and that makes Jessamy feel important by proxy as one of his closest servants. Her sense of self-worth is inflated by his importance so she talks it up a great deal. She might even be a bit arrogant and unbearable because of it in the wrong company. Absolute teacher's pet / employee of the month who would willingly rat out others to the boss, in the wrong setting, that sort of thing. We don't see it because we're around Dream when we're with her and Dream is her first priority in all things. She has basically adopted him as a mother/aunt figure since she knows Dream's mother Night was garbage to him.

Now, this is a flaw specifically in Giving Sanctuary because all the things that make Jessamy feel important with regards to Dream are things that make Hob (our protagonist/POV character) feel insignificant in relation to Dream. And Jessamy is too proud to pick up on this or stop herself! She doesn't notice that saying how Ancient and Important and Powerful and Inhuman Dream is, the things that make her feel big because she's allowed into Dream's tiny inner circle, are things that Hob, who is uncertain of his importance to Dream, feel absolutely microscopically unimportant. So she just goes on, and on, and on until Hob, who is normally pretty emotionally resilient, absolutely shatters after two weeks of being bombarded with all the reasons Dream would never look twice at him. She gives him the information he needs but in a way that kicks off even deeper problems for the narrative. And she doesn't know she's doing it until it's too late.

Now, as for who is Jessamy? On that I'm less certain. In a way, it doesn't matter. I sort of conceive of her as a bit of a Discworld Nanny Ogg figure, perhaps a Scottish grandmother. If the timing was better, I'd say she was one of the women hung as a witch during the Scottish witch hunts of the 1600s, but that would only make her about a century old and I really need her to know Dream longer than Hob's been alive. So... she's a grandmother. I'd like to think she's a peasant, actually, because she does stake such pride in being the confidante of a King and a Lord. She's very pro-monarchy, in today's conception, she loves being in the inner circle of the aristocracy. She'd probably be up to date on all the gossip about the Royals if she lived today. But really, she could be from anywhere, at any time. Perhaps she's a Scottish (or Pictish) grandmother from the time of Ancient Rome! There's really no reason she couldn't have the exact same personality and be from a time before Hadrian's wall was built :) And I rather like the twist of having her be from a time and the sort of person (a grandmother) from a time that is almost never shown in literature.

[tex-treasure-chamber]

Amanita's Trial For Hei

A gift from me to Hedone @sugar-and-pearls

Thank you for being my friend, and for your s/i Merope and her sisterhood with my s/I Amanita ♡

Hei doesn't hear Amanita walk up behind him, their steps as soft as shadow, but the change in the wind brings the scent of their perfume to his nose just moments before they speak and thus, he doesn't flinch, doesn't attack even as his instincts scream at him to do so.

"Good morning, Hei," Amanita greets as they stand beside him on the back patio, their voice soft and raspy with disuse so early in the morning. "Would you care for some breakfast? I was thinking of cooking something... savoury."

Hei considers the polite invitation before remembering all that Merope has told him about the eldest Addams and their proclivities regarding food. "Yes please, thank you," he says, careful to be as polite as possible before requesting, "would it be alright if we have a 'vegan' breakfast?"

Amanita's lips quirk into an almost smile. "Yes, if that is what you'd like. It shouldn't take too long if you'd like to continue resting here." They turn and head toward the kitchen and Hei, sparing the early sunrise another long glance, turns and begins to follow.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to lend a hand." Hei says as he notices Amanita turn and look up at him from over their shoulder. It's been ages since he's been in the kitchen, and part of him doesn't trust Amanita to keep to their word in keeping things 'vegan', especially not when all of the other Addamses have been throwing trials and the occasional subtle judgemental comment at him. He knows it's well deserved- he'd broken Merope's heart after all- but he draws the line when it comes to what he puts in his stomach.

Amanita's eyes narrow slightly in annoyance, clearly picking up on his ulterior motive and offended by his assumptions but Hei doesn't look away although he does offer what he hopes is a placating smile as he adds, "Please?"

Amanita's glare softens. "Alright." Without another word, they're off to the kitchen.

They barely talk as they prepare savoury 'vegan' omelettes with brilliant diced bell peppers, onions, ham, and mushrooms (non psychedelic and non poisonous) with Hei doing all the dicing while Amanita does the actual cooking, their eyes occasionally darting over to watch Hei's knife work with a glint of approval.

After breakfast, Hei, with his hands cradling a cup of hot coffee to combat the chill permeating the air, decides to cut the silence.

"When is my trail, Amanita?" He asks outright, watching them closely as they delicately sip their hot chocolate. He's already survived every other siblings' trial, and really all that's left is Amanita. Part of him had wondered if they would even present him with one given how politely they'd treated him since the moment he stepped foot inside the Addams Manor but he's not a fool, and he can't shake the feeling that Amanita has simply been biding their time, lying in wait to strike.

Amanita sets their mug down onto the table without making a sound, pinky cushioning the impact. They lean back and cross their legs, right over left, and fold their gloved hands on their knee.

"So, you want a trial." They say, an observation more than a question, which is the furthest thing Hei expects that it takes a moment for him to realise he's fallen into a trap of his own making. It would have been so much easier if he didn't have to undergo one from Wednesday, from Oliver, from Pugsley, from Pubert, from everyone, really--- hell knew each had left him physically exhausted and at times, thoroughly embarassed. It would have been so much easier if he could just say 'sorry' and have them forgive him but that isn't who he is. It isn't until he's looking at Amanita looking patiently at him that he realises the truth---

Yes, he wants a trial. Despite the torment, the hell, the effort and exertion he's been through already, he wants a trial. It's what Merope deserves, after everything he's put her through.

"Yes." He says a little softly, still in awe of himself.

Amanita picks their mug up and finishes their hot chocolate with one last, long gulp and sets it down softly before rising up out of their seat. "Meet me here in ten minutes, then, and dress for a walk in the woods."

Ten minutes later, he meets Amanita exactly where they'd said to meet them. They've got a long coat on, hiking boots, and a shovel over their shoulder. The moment he stops in front of them, they hand the shovel over and Hei, vaguely aware of what might happen next, takes it without hesitation and rests it over his shoulder.

They begin waking, Amanita leading while Hei slows his pace to accommodate Amanita's shorter legs and shorter strides. They spend maybe ten minutes in silence with Hei just waiting for Amanita to speak until finally, Amanita clears their throat.

"I understand you've been put through quite the ringer with our other siblings so far." They say, their breath leaving their lips like dragon smoke.

Hei can still feel his muscles aching from the last trial. "Yes." He says, his thoughts on Merope. It's still quite early, too early for her to be awake just yet. He can't help but wonder if she's warm, if she's dreaming of him, and his heart aches too.

"Perhaps this trial won't be as demanding." Amanita says, but there's a lightness in their voice that reminds him of the feathered tip of a poison dart.

"I suppose that is up to you." Hei answers carefully as he steps over a twig, his eyes darting to look at them from the corner of his eyes.

"On the contrary, it's entirely up to you." Amanita corrects, sparing him a sharp look, their eyes locking for a moment that feels like forever before Hei averts his gaze to look up ahead as he ponders their words.

Five minutes pass, enough time for their words to steep fully in Hei's mind before Amanita says, "Has Merope ever told you about her time as a child, when she first arrived to the Addams home?"

"A little," Hei recalls, "she told me about the blood ritual, and about missing her dad immensely at first and how Mr. and Mrs. Addams made a colourful room just for her to feel more at home." He pauses to regard Amanita from the corner of his eyes once more as he adds carefully, "And she's told me a bit about you, of course. About how you grew up together, thick as theives."

Amanita nods, a small smile on their face as they duck under a low hanging branch with ease. "Did she tell you that I hadn't wanted siblings before she came along?"

"No." Hei says, curious.

"Once she showed up, shivering and scared, that all changed," Amanita continues. "I had never been responsible for anything so... fragile, before. Even my snake felt more sturdy, more indestructible, at least before the ritual and before she grew into her teeth." They pause briefly. "Did she ever tell you I almost killed her when we were children?"

Hei nearly stumbles. "No." He says, his voice calm, his grip on the shovel tight as he takes a moment to mentally recoil from a universe where he never meets Merope. It chills him more than the autumnal wind slipping through the bushes and trees and the fabric of his hoodie.

Amanita doesn't say anything for several long seconds and when they do, their voice is softer than the fog billowing from their nose and lips. "It had been an accident, only a couple months after she had arrived. I swore from that day onward that I'd do anything to keep her safe." They stop and turn, and at just that moment, sunlight filtering from the canopy above pools into their eyes, filling them with sunlight as they add firmly, their pupils constricting until they're thin and long and sharp like a cat's or a snake's, "Anything. Do you understand?"

Hei's heart constricts too as he freezes. "I understand." He says, his tone almost prayerful.

Amanita stares up at him unblinkingly for a full minute before they begin walking again. Sunlight fades from behind the trees above and their pupils round out into something demurely human once more. Minutes pass in silence as Hei digests what he's heard, what he's seen, and most importantly, exactly what Amanita hasn't said.

"I understand," he repeats aloud, suddenly all too aware of the weight of the shovel on his shoulder.

"Good," Amanita says, stepping carefully around a patch of mushrooms with a loving twinkle in their eyes as they pass the fungi by. "Now, it's time for you to help me understand." They look at Hei, and the twinkle flickers out of existence. "I'm going to ask you a question, just one. Tell me when you're ready for it."

Hei opens his mouth to answer right away but the chill of the air fills his lungs, forcing him to take a moment to register it, to feel it, and in turn he becomes acutely aware of the woods around them. They're a little more than fifteen minutes into the woods, and it's silent. He knows what it means when the woods are silent, and with each step forward, each step deeper, he can't help but sink further into realising how much he does not know these woods and how much Amanita does. For once, he is not the predator stalking between these trees, silencing the birds and stilling the foxes and deer. Is this his trial? Will she disappear on him and leave him to find his way back?

He spares the ground behind them a glance; Amanita's footsteps aren't visible but his are- if he needs to backpedal then he's sure he can find his way back to the Manor.

"I'm ready," he says, more to himself than to them.

Amanita abruptly stops walking and points to the ground right in front of him. "Start digging, then, and while you do, think of Merope. Think of every single memory you have of her. Think of who she is to you. Think of who you now are because of her."

It's not a question, but Hei doesn't hesitate to start digging. Despite the chill in the air, the ground is still soft, soft enough for him to easily break the topsoil with a sharp jab and a soft grunt. Amanita watches him, silent as a graveyard, hands folded neatly behind their back. Hei doesn't ask how long he's supposed to dig, or when he's supposed to stop- from what little time he's spent in Amanita's company, he's got a good idea already in mind for what the answer would be so he doesn't waste his breath.

Instead, he digs. He digs and he digs and he digs and as he digs, he thinks about Merope. At first, he just visualises her in his mind- her fair skin and how her hair likes to part down the middle of her face, framing her soft cheeks and twinkling, mischievous eyes, her curves and the winding way she moves like a river carving the earth she walks with each step, how her arms are always so inviting like an open and freshly lit fireplace. He thinks about her voice next, the Scottish, musical cadence in the way she speaks, like every word is a symphony in itself as it leaves her mouth, especially when she swears, and a smile tugs at the corner of his lips even as he reaches the 6ft mark in length and begins to dig his way down deeper into the rich, damp soil.

He cannot see Amanita, his mind too far away and focused on his only love still asleep in the early morning light, but Amanita can see him and the sparkle in their eyes returns as they continue to watch, continue to observe as he continues to think of Merope.

As Hei reaches two feet deep, he feels his brow begin to drench with sweat but he keeps going- he's still got four feet to go, after all, and he knows even without asking that he's not finished. There are too many memories to land on just one to reflect upon- they swarm him like dazzling butterflies but none land and when he tries to reach out and grab one to examine closer it only dances away out of reach. Even so, he takes time to notice how large and plentiful his memories are of her and as he does, as he digs, Amanita's words haunt him once more.

There is a Hei that exists in some timeline, some universe, that has never gotten to meet Merope. It's jarring, and for a second he has to lean on his shovel and just breathe. He never believed in such things as a multiverse or parallel universes until he met Merope- it leads flawlessly into Amanita's next request. Who is he, because of her?

He resumes digging. He's alive, firstly. He can feel his pulse in his neck, can smell the petrichor in the soil as he hauls shovel fulls over his shoulder. He knows in his heart that she's saved his ass from Death's touch at least twice. He's sober. He's kinder, and braver, and smarter. He's more human, because of Merope. More whole. Better. Why she's taken him back is beyond him, but he's better because of her.

He stops as he hits six feet down and finishes smoothing out the hole. It's a perfect size, tailored just for him. His eyes are level with the ground and as he sets the shovel aside and wipes his hands, he understands the nature of Amanita's trial, or at least, he's beginning to believe he does. He looks up and locks eyes with Amanita, who now towers over him like an ancient god looking down at a mortal.

Amanita smiles softly. "I'll only ask you once. Just once. I'll know if you mean it, so I do hope you do."

Hei takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. His breath condensces thickly in the air as he waits.

Amanita stares down at him unflinchingly. Hei stares up at them.

"Do you love her?" They inquire. The question is loud in the silence of the watchful forest.

He's sore. His fingers are a little numb with cold. There's sweat pooling down his back, freezing and sticky. Even so, Hei doesn't hesitate, his answer out of his mouth as soon as Amanita finishes their question.

"Yes." He poures every single ounce of love and devotion and dedication he feels for Merope, wants to show her, shower her with, every shovel full of dirt he has just dug into that one syllable.

Amanita stares at him for a full minute before nodding slowly to themself and in seconds, the sound of birds chirping trickle in until the trees are filled with birdsong. It's almost too loud compared to the absolute, stifling silence he'd become accustomed to since walking into the forest with them.

Amanita points down at him in the hole. "I don't know when man who hurt Merope died," they say, searching his eyes with intense look, "but he definitively died today, just now, when you said 'yes'." They crouch down and after removing their glove, they offer their hand. "Let me make this deal with you; you take my hand and let me assist you in climbing out of that hole as a forgiven, new man, and know that I, Amanita Addams, forgive you, Hei, of your trespasses and will treat you like a brother until your dying day-"

Hei reaches out but freezes as Amanita pulls their hand back slightly, eyes narrow as they keep their gaze locked on his. "I'm not finished," they explain gently before adding softly, "because you see, if you hurt her again after I've helped you climb out of there I, Amanita Addams, swear unto you, Hei, that this very hole you dug up with your own sweat and exertion will remain right here, waiting for you to swallow you up bones and all, and I will be the one who shoves you back in it." They slowly offer their hand once more and in a voice as smooth as glass, add, "Do we have a deal?"

Like before, Hei doesn't hesitate. He takes their hand, grips it firmly, and shakes, his eyes never leaving theirs and Amanita finally blinks first with a small smile warm enough to chase away the chill of the air clinging to his clothes. With an inordinate strength that belies their small stature, they practically hoist Hei up out of his own grave and squeeze his hand before dropping it to pat his back.

"Good man," they say, all dimpled smiles like their father before they pick up the shovel and nod in the direction they've come from, back toward the Manor. "C'mon, reckon it's almost time to wake Merope and the others with breakfast and if we hop to it, you can squeeze in a shower while I make Merope a nice breakfast tray for you to wake her up with after you're out."

Hei spares the grave one last look. Part of him can see the man he was before still standing in it, watching him back. He knows it will stay there, untouched, waiting, and he knows he doesn't ever want to see this hole again. He turns to Amanita with a small smile of his own and looks beyond them, toward the Manor, where his future lay sleeping peacefully, waiting for him. He's going to wake her with a kiss. It's going to be a very lovely first kiss as a new man.

"Let's go."

[bluegekk0]

I hope you feel better soon!

Just wanted to share a few words of encouragement. I really love your AU. I’ve been following it for some time now and it’s just gotten better and better. I love popping online and seeing the latest asks and the lore behind these sillies. Your art is incredible too. This AU is truly a labor of love and it’s great that you’ve taken as much comfort in it as I have. I love seeing AUs that take a different sort of route than canon while staying true to their source material, and I feel like yours does just that. It’s very emotionally balanced, too, with pretty equal amounts of angst and wholesome, which I feel like is a hard thing to achieve in AUs. All in all I’ve really enjoyed keeping up to date with this AU and I can’t wait to see what happens next.

It’s that time again! What’s something you want to infodump about but haven’t gotten the chance? Anything at all. I am READY!

awh thank you so much ❤

this means a lot, really. it's something i worry about all the time, i know it's my au and i can do what i want with it, but i still overthink it way more often than i'd like. i try my best to find a balance between something i personally enjoy and something that doesn't stray too far from the canon, so hearing this is very reassuring. so thank you, i really appreciate your words, and i'm glad you enjoy the au 💖

as for the infodump... hm. well, a topic came up on my friends discord server about fpk's sense of humor, so perhaps i'll take this as an opportunity to talk about what each of the main characters finds funny? that could be quite a fun ramble. i'll put it under a read more thingy cause it'll probably be very long

i guess i'll start with fpk. he's a bit slow when it comes to humor, he's always had trouble catching irony and double-meanings, but after the hibernation he's even slower at getting more nuanced jokes. he'll understand them eventually, but it might take him a few seconds to even process what was said, let alone decide that it was a joke. it doesn't help that he's a serial overthinker, so his first instinct is to take things literally, and that means that in some cases the joke might go completely over his head, especially if it's a topic he's particularly sensitive about. it also carries over to his ability to tell jokes - let's just say he's not very good at it. there aren't many things that he finds funny, most of the time it's something related to his hobby, which unfortunately means most people won't really understand the joke. in other cases, he'll unintentionally say something that's actually really funny, and then get a bit confused when he hears a laugh in response. aside from that, he gravitates towards self-deprecating, dry humor, which can be quite amusing if you contrast it with the more outright funny jokes told by others

grimm, on the other hand, is much more well-versed in comedy. though, probably quite unexpectedly, his humor can be quite immature. he loves jokes that are flirty and filled to the brim with innuendos, which he most often targets at fpk (who needs a second or two to realize what grimm means, before his face turns all red haha). in general his sense of humor can be quite... off putting, let's say. he's the type to make the kind of jokes where you can't exactly tell if he's being serious or not. sometimes you can catch him staring at your neck and commenting on your blood type in a humorous tone, which to him is very funny, but to others might be a bit too ominous. on top of that, he very much enjoys irritating or intimidating others, he finds their reactions very amusing. particularly with hornet, they engage in banter almost constantly - he'll get on her nerves to cause a reaction, and she'll fire back with a mean comeback. to them it's all in a good fun, but to an outsider it would be quite a strange dynamic to witness. of course, he's not all immature, he knows when to stop, and whenever he's away from his family, his demeanor changes and he becomes a lot more serious. it's clear that he's more comfortable and approachable whenever he's around his loved ones, as he basically turns into a completely different person the moment he returns to dirtmouth

hornet has a very mean type of humor. she has a lot of built-up anger, and mean jokes are a way for her to release it. it most certainly borders on being rude and cruel, though she tones it down whenever she's around her family. you have to know her well enough to realize that she's just joking, otherwise her attempts at humor might come off as genuinely insulting. it's certainly something she works on throughout the events of the au, there were a few instances of her saying something mean as a joke towards fpk or holly which was severely misinterpreted, and she wants to avoid repeating that mistake. most of the time, she doesn't actually mean what she says, but unfortunately not everyone sees it that way. i mentioned that she engages in banter with grimm all the time, but even then she tries to control her words. grimm wouldn't get offended, he doesn't take himself that seriously, but it's still something that she pays attention to. of course, if he annoys her, she'll fire at him with a mean joke, which he then laughs off. there's clearly a degree of understanding between them, and it's one of the reasons why they're actually a lot closer than you'd expect. but it's just them, she has to be a lot more careful with her humor around the other members of the family, particularly fpk, who she knows is especially paranoid about upsetting her - she wouldn't want to make him think that she's actually angry at him, so she makes sure to tone down her nasty humor in his presence

holly... well, it's quite difficult to be a jokester if you can't speak. they do understand humor, perhaps not as well as they'd hope, but they're not oblivious to it. unfortunately, they can't really practice it too well - sure, they can attempt to make humorous sketches in their notebook, but the time consuming nature of it means that they're not able to actively participate in comedic banter. though their inability to respond does still lead to humorous moments occasionally. for example, they'd be the "stares into the camera like they're starring in the office" type. their seemingly confused, blank expression happens to make some people laugh, and i think they would quickly catch onto that and embrace it rather than feel embarrassed about it. they also play the straight man whenever they're around more comedic personalities like grimm, or people whose whole presence causes others to laugh, such as zote. of course, it didn't start as something they did entirely by choice, but they would naturally excel at it. and i don't think they mind that, at the end of the day they just want to make others laugh, and if that's what works best, then they're happy

and of course zote is zote. he doesn't really make jokes, but his tendency to blurt things out without thinking and over-confidence lead to many comedic situations. you can't find a funnier guy than him, and he does it completely unintentionally. grimm finds him extremely entertaining, so he'll often say things that will specifically get zote to say dumb things. for example, whenever zote starts one of his rambles about all the places he's allegedly been to, grimm will start asking questions that will get zote to say more made up things, to the point where he completely stops making sense. it's quite mean when you think about it, but that's just how grimm operates (he does actually care for zote in his own strange way). but back to the funny man himself - most of the humor comes from all the wacky situations he gets himself into. that being said, he doesn't like being laughed at, it's a very unpleasant childhood memory that unfortunately makes him react in anger, and that often causes even more people to laugh. i think the rest of the family would catch on, though, and avoid laughing at him, even if they do find his antics very funny. i think this is why he's kind of a honorary family member - he may act all confident and cocky, but deep down he really just wants to be a part of a family, and it just so happens that this bunch of weirdos accept him as one of their own. i imagine he's dealt with a lot of bullying in his childhood, he's got a lot of issues which he weaponizes into all of his nonsense, but that's a topic for another day. as for things he'd laugh at, i do think he would find the misfortune of others amusing. in some ways, he shares hornet's mean sense of humor, though he's not as quick-witted as her haha

as for lewk, he's still a child, so his sense of humor isn't particularly elaborate. he laughs at the things you'd expect a child to laugh at, it doesn't really get much deeper than that. though growing up around grimm and hornet, i could absolutely see him absorbing all of the banter he witnesses and developing a similar type of humor as he ages. he's a lot more sensitive, though, so i don't think he'd ever reach the same levels of mean humor as hornet, or find much amusement in intimidating others like grimm. after all, he does also spend a lot of time around fpk, so perhaps he'd learn some of his "nerd" humor? he's still young, so we'll have to wait and see, i'm constantly thinking of his personality so it's something i can't say for sure just yet

[thinkingaboutbetterdays]

family. ( mario savetti x reader )

gif belongs to me

When he first met your older brother he was half naked in the kitchen, standing between your legs as you kissed him on the countertop, wearing his shirt from the night before. It wasn't the first impression anyone wanted to make, but Mario quickly realized that while you were embarrassed, your brother was only focused on money.

You hadn't spoken of your family often and in the fifteen-minute meeting, Mario understood why as your brother had all the classic traits of a drug user. And he could see that you were hesitant to trust your brother when he said that his wages weren't due for another week, hence why he asked money for groceries to fill his fridge.

You went to get your purse, reluctantly leaving the two men alone and Mario crossed his arms, leaning against the countertop as your brother sparked conversation.

"So how long have you been seeing my sister?"

"A while," Mario answered vaguely. "Where do you work?"

"Oh, I waiter at a diner." Your brother nodded, turning to you when you returned.

Seeing you were conflicted, Mario wanted to step in, but you didn't want to make a scene, so you handed your brother the cash and he thanked you.

"I'll see you around." Your brother directed to Mario who merely nodded in acknowledgement. You followed your brother to the door, lowering your voice as you told him you wanted to see the receipt and while he agreed, he never did.

You had been seeing Mario for over two months now and while early on you believed he wanted nothing serious after your co-worker was brought to Angels to be treated after he suffered a heart attack, seeing how close you two seemed to be, Mario's feelings were clear to you. He was jealous and you had never been so relieved - although it took some encouragement for him to open up to you after being so closed off for so long.

You were the youngest of four kids. While you had spoken about your sister who worked in a high-end clothing store and one of your brothers who left for university and never returned - ashamed of his family, but he kept in contact with you now and then - you never mentioned your second brother who was only two years older than you. And after this morning Mario understood why.

His reasons for understanding weren't known to you yet, but they soon would be. Instead of asking outright, Mario decided to test the waters, to find out what you would say or how you would describe the brother who had followed in your parents footsteps.

"He seems nice." He turned to you when you poured a cup of coffee, suddenly quiet after your brother left.

"Yeah, he is."

"Where does he work again?"

"He waiters at a diner. I can't remember the name." You excused as your brother had refused to share it with you. In his words, "don't check up on me".

You handed him the coffee, and Mario could see that you were miles away with worry, with growing regret because while you didn't want to admit it, the money you gave your brother wasn't for groceries.

"I'm going to get dressed."

He sighed as he watched you leave, torn between wanting to intervene, wanting to protect you from further disappointment, and starting a fight. In the end, his conscience won and he followed you to the bedroom.

"I know B/N is a drug user."

You turned from where you were choosing a shirt from your dresser, looking at him in confusion although your eyes lit up with surprise that was overtaken by your instinct to defend your brother.

You laughed off the feeling, looking at Mario who knew that his prediction was correct. A fight was inevitable.

"What? It's grocery money. So he's a little short this week? That doesn't make him a druggie." You took out an outfit from the wardrobe, placing it on the bed.

"I've seen enough to notice the signs. And trust me he's a classic case."

"He's a little down on his luck. That's it." You took off his shirt, standing only in a bra and underwear as you tossed it to him. "Now, get out."

"I can help -" Mario caught his shirt, and sighed when you glared at him.

"Get out!" You pointed to the door, and he quickly put his shirt on.

"Fine! But if he doesn't get the help he needs, you know there are only two places he's going to end up. Jail, or the morgue. So don't come to me when you need a shoulder to cry on."

You watched as he left the bedroom, casting your eyes to the floor, knowing he was right. You heard the front door slam moments later, and sank onto the mattress, feeling tears prick your eyes.

A few days later you wished you hadn't reacted the way you did. You knew Mario better than most people and knew that while he hadn't worded it correctly, he was trying to help. But you knew it was futile. Yet when you asked your brother for the receipt and he claimed he lost it, you were surprised. He had promised he was sober, and had found a good job to pay rent on a decent apartment which when you began to investigate, he hadn't stayed in for months.

You wished you hadn't reacted the way you did that morning because everything that happened afterwards, could have been prevented.

Mario recognised your brother when he was brought out of the ambulance from a suspected overdose. The drugs he had taken were shutting down his organs and until they found out what the drugs were, there was little they could do. Mario kept quiet, not letting on that they knew each other, and after helping keep him alive when he suddenly began to thrash around and his pulse dropped, Mario helped stabilize his vitals and gave him something to help him sleep it off.

You were across town when Doctor Pineda called and explained what happened and you feared that today was the day your brother finally went too far. You entered Angels and were directed to Trauma One where your brother was being closely monitored. Mario was bandaging another patient, asking for someone else to take over when he saw you and you swallowed thickly when you saw his expression.

"How is he?"

Mario exhaled, casting his eyes to the floor as he shook his head. You covered your mouth, tears building in your eyes as he began to explain what happened.

"It's not looking good. There is internal damage from whatever he took - his organs are failing."

"This is all my fault." You turned away and Mario led you to the break room, closing the door behind him.

"Hey, look at me," He spoke gently, "he would've gotten it somehow. You know that."

"How long does he have?" You asked, tears falling down your cheeks as you met his gaze.

"Weeks. Months if we're being optimistic."

You covered your mouth in shock, and Mario grimaced at his poor word choice, wanting to comfort you yet all he seemed to do was make it worse. He brought you to his chest, and you cried on his shoulder. "I'm sorry."

The door opened and Angus looked between you both, briefly meeting Mario's gaze before leaving and closing the door. A few minutes later, you lifted your head and wiped your tears, taking slow breathes to ease your nerves.

"Do you want me to call someone -"

"They won't come." You shook your head. "I just wanna see him. Can I?"

Mario nodded, "Come on." He rested a hand on your back as he led you out of the break room detected only by Jesse who raised an eyebrow but would ask questions later.

Mario parted the curtain so you could enter and you gasped when you saw the state your brother was in. "Oh my god!" You vaguely heard Mario try to explain what each piece of equipment did, but you remembered none of it as you approached your brother. You took hold of his hand in both of yours, gazing down at him through teary eyes. "I'm here." You swallowed the lump in your throat as you combed his hair away from his forehead. "I'm right here. A lot of good I've done so far, eh?"

"You've done a lot for him," Mario spoke up, causing you to look up over at where he stood with his arms crossed.

"He probably would've been better off without me." You returned your gaze to your brother who you knew was unlikely to wake up - the odds stacked highly against him.

"No, he wouldn't. The reason he lasted so long is because of you."

You turned to Mario when he lowered his arms, stepping closer.

"Miss L/N?" The curtain parted and you were greeted by Jesse two uniformed police officers.

"Yeah." You replied, eyebrows furrowing at their sudden arrival.

"We'd like a word, please. About your brother."

"Can't it wait?" Mario asked, turning around, subconsciously standing between you and the police officers.

"We can either talk here, or at the precinct."

"She's not the one you should be looking for."

"Mario," You spoke softly, preventing him from responding. You looked at your brother, squeezing his hand, assuring him you would be right back. You glanced at Mario who you knew wanted to follow and sent him a small smile. You wished your argument hadn't happened. You wished you could rewind to that morning. There was so much that you would do differently.

Your brother's health, while not perfect, stabilized enough that he was able to undergo further treatment. After your interview with the cops, you were approached by Leanne who wanted to perform a transplant that would benefit your brother greatly and give him at least ten more years.

Mario was assigned to prep you and as he handed you a gown, you knew he was upset. "I have to."

"I know." He sighed. "Doesn't mean I have to like it."

"I don't like it either. Do I feel anything or is it like a pen across your palm feeling?"

"No, you won't feel a thing. You'll be completely unconscious." He sank into the chair, hidden by the curtains. You lowered your gaze to your hands, looking up at him when he spoke, his eyes focused on the floor. "It was my dad. It wasn't drugs, it was alcohol."

"I'm sorry." You frowned, seeing his discomfort in sharing something so personal. You weren't sure you would ever know everything about Mario Savetti, the man had secrets buried deeper than you could dig to.

"The only time I see him is when he needs money." He met your gaze. "Ring any bells?"

"I'm going through with it." You told him and he lowered his gaze to the floor, his jaw tightening a little as he tried not to lash out. "Ten years is a long time."

"Having the transplant doesn't mean he suddenly gets clean." He warned.

"It's the one thing I haven't tried." You blinked away the tears in your eyes. "And I'm freaked out enough as it is so can we drop it, please?"

Mario stared at you for a moment, sighing as he nodded. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. Build a time machine." You said, referring to your date the night before everything went wrong, the night he came over and you watched Back To The Future.

You smiled softly when his lips twitched upwards, "A blue box or a DeLorean?" He played along.

You shrugged, "Surprise me."

He chuckled, and you smiled as he walked over to you. "I don't like it." He began. "But I'll support it."

You tilted your head up when he placed a hand on your cheek. "Thank you." Mario leaned down and you closed your eyes as your lips met.

When you pulled away, he sent you a smirk, "Need help with the gown?"

You rolled your eyes, "Nice try."

He helped up his hands, and you giggled as he walked to the curtain. "I'll be right outside."

Mario had other patients that kept him busy, and although he tried to stick around until you were taken upstairs to surgery, it was made impossible by the chaos of Trauma One. He had lost track of time and when he went to find you the bed was empty and he knew it was too late. He knew the surgeons in Angels, having met them once or twice since he started working there, but that didn't mean he trusted them with you.

Hours later he would learn the surgery was a success and you would recover quickly while your brother would need further treatment, and Mario visited you while you were recuperating, returning to the hospital hours before his shift began to drive you to your apartment. You weren't afraid to ask him questions about his past before, but you felt he was more at ease now as he confided in you.

In the weeks that followed your brother recovered steadily as did your relationship with Mario. You were proud to see that the scare seemed to jumpstart your brother as he got clean and found a stable job and a decent apartment. However, unbeknown to Mario the new lease of life didn't last as long as you made it out to be.

Almost a year later, Mario was leaving after a long shift when your brother was wheeled in with stab wounds. Mario sent you a text message, asking you to meet him at the hospital, withholding that your brother was bleeding out in Trauma One.

"What happened?" He asked as he followed.

"A call came in from a payphone that a body was found behind a closed-down video store. When we arrived, the ambulance was already there and the paramedics found these in his pockets." A female detective held up three bags of pills and Mario looked at your brother as the two detectives began to step aside and let the team work to stitch up your brother's wounds whilst discussing which drug would be best to alleviate any pain and not make his situation worse due to the drugs already in his system.

Nearly an hour later Mario met you by the elevators and you knew from his expression that it was serious. "What's wrong?"

"You knew, didn't you?"

"W-What? Knew what?"

"Your brother is here." Mario began walking and you followed, asking thousands of questions that only upset Mario further. "He was stabbed. In what looks like a drug deal gone bad. Detectives are hovering around waiting for a statement."

You glanced at the two detectives and Mario looked at you when one of them took out your brother's wallet and held it up, glancing between your picture inside and you.

"They want to talk to you."

"Mario, I -"

"How long has he been back in town?"

"A week. Maybe two. He was clean."

"Tell that to the pills in his pocket," Mario replied, shaking his head. "You should have told me."

"I knew how you would react."

"And how am I reacting? How you thought?" Mario noticed the detectives approaching and lowered his voice. "You have to tell the truth."

"I can't."

"Whatever you do, do not implicate yourself." He continued.

"Mario, he's my brother."

"And you'll get arrested." He glanced at the detectives, meeting your gaze sternly, and you swallowed the lump in your throat.

You both fell silent when the two detectives approached. "Excuse me. Y/N L/N?" You nodded. "Could we have a word?" You looked at Mario who sighed as you walked away, heading to find an empty room for the interrogation. And he could only hope that you listened to him.

Mario scrubbed in and joined the team as they tried to figure out what the pills were. Mario cleared his throat as he told them, adding, "It's a long-winning favourite."

"And you know this because?" Neal asked.

"I know his sister."

"Of course, you do." Neal began to direct everyone, who worked quickly to stabilise your brother.

When he began to crash, Mario stepped in to perform compressions, muttering under his breath. "Come on. Don't do this to her. Come on."

The steady beep returned and Mario sighed when he heard it. He had seen what happened the last time your brother was brought to Angels and your relationship had grown since then, so he knew more now than he did then, how much it would devastate you to lose the brother that had always looked out for you when you were younger.

When the detectives were finished speaking with you, you returned to Trauma One where you found Jesse, who you knew only from Mario's description. He escorted you to where your brother was currently resting and you found Mario checking his vitals. You didn't know that Jesse remembered you from the last incident and had spoken to Mario about it, which led to Mario confiding in the one person he felt able to at the time.

"Thanks, mama."

You looked between the two as Jesse walked away, before approaching your brother, taking his hand. "How is he?"

"Stable. He won't wake up till tomorrow." Mario replied. "What did you tell them?"

"You told me to be honest." You turned your head to look at him. "So I told them everything I know. Who supplies him. His history." You sighed as you looked at your brother.

"I didn't think you'd listen."

"I wasn't going to." You turned to him, sitting on the chair beside your brother's bed. "But I know you were right. That's why I signed him up for a rehabilitation program. He doesn't get out until I know he's going to stay clean."

You looked over at your brother, then at Mario when he placed a hand on your shoulder. "You did the right thing."

"Then why do I feel horrible?"

He kissed your head when you rested it on his chest and he wrapped his arms around you. "Because you know he's gonna be pissed and you feel like you're letting him down after everything he's done for you. But trust me," You lifted your head to meet his gaze, "you aren't letting him down. You are looking out for him. And I am looking after you."

"So who is looking after you?"

"You do," Mario told you. "Every day."

You stood up and kissed his cheek. "Which reminds me. You have been working five hours over your shift. Are you hungry, or skipping straight to bed?" Mario smirked, and you rolled your eyes. "Not like that." You bumped your shoulder with his as you walked away, and he chuckled as he followed.

"Sleep sounds great right now."

He pressed the button for the elevator and placed his arm around your shoulders as you stepped inside, and you rested your head on his shoulder with a smile, as he pressed for the garage floor where his car was parked before his shift.

When you first met Mario Savetti, you believed he only wanted a sexually focused relationship, no strings attached. And if you had met him earlier, he would admit it too. But when he looked at you all he saw was strength, unconditional love and someone he could tell all his secrets to. You knew him better than anyone. When he thought of family, he saw only you, because you were everything he needed or wanted.

[electricbluebutterflies]

Jess x Leto ~ first kisses

Early-era, PG-ish / a bit fade-to-black, also on ao3.

Skies, why did this seem like a good idea?

It had looked perfect on paper, as such things do. He is young still; a capable woman might tether him, and a pretty one would be a safe outlet for desires, and-

Alone in a cold room and expected to consummate the binding, Leto is decidedly less sure about the advantages of this set of decisions.

“May I touch you?”

She nods. She didn’t speak during the rituals earlier either. He wonders if she even can, and why does he suspect he’ll spend far too much of the rest of his life worrying about her, and-

He gets close enough that he could do something before admitting to himself that he has no idea where to even start. He’s had lovers before and that part will be fine, but attempting to help undress a woman in so many layers is a whole other animal and-

“Let me. You’ll tear something if you’re not careful.”

Something in her soft voice like an accusation, like his own uncertainty is nothing compared to how much she would rather be anywhere else right now, and that is a complication he did not see coming. Women of her order, or at least the ones that get placed in powerful men’s beds, are not supposed to be…

“Show me how. For next time.”

“There won’t be a next time with this many components. I can’t imagine how that would be more pleasing for either of us.”

She does have a certain point, and it is still fascinating to watch her hands slip up and unpin what turns out to be two separate veils, and he is-

She’s pretty. He knows all the rumors about how women like her are placed, and he shouldn’t be so surprised, but-

Slightly angular features, sharp eyes, delicate in a way he already knows not to trust, the kind of forced confidence he is all too familiar with and-

“Your hands won’t break me.”

He takes this as permission to touch her face, watching for any changes in her body language and finding none. He would like to think he’s already figured her out, but-

“May I kiss you?”

“Do as you will.”

He decides to interpret the lack of outright contempt as permission enough. There is an innocence to her that clashes with the other shreds of personality slipping through her careful masks, and he is curious about that, curious about so many things and he shouldn’t be and-

He moves away and she follows, taking another kiss, matching intensity. Like she wants to be good at this, like she wants-

“If anything is uncomfortable for you, stop me. I won’t fault you for it.”

“I have been told what to expect. I will endure.”

“That is not… I am unsure of this, but I do not want-“

“You have already been more cautious than I expected.”

He suspects he won’t like the answers to questions he doesn’t feel the need to ask anymore, and… he can understand the temptation to ravish her, but that is not who he is. One of the few decisions he’d managed to make in a situation otherwise so far above his control was to do this part somewhere neutral, and if it goes badly-

“I won’t have you fear me.”

“I fear nothing. Not even you.”

If they talk more, he thinks, he’ll just end up more worried about her and that will be at odds with activities he still means to do and… kissing her is easier. Kissing her is pleasant, and they have time, and he wants to see if she can melt a little, and he wants-

“Give me a moment?”

He watches her remove a few layers of clothing. There are more pieces involved than he thought, and a certain way to her movements, and she is not yet exposed when she puts the folded pile aside but-

“Are you cold?”

She doesn’t quite make eye contact, but-

“I am not used to… the planet I was raised on was a much drier kind of cold, and… I was told I was being placed on a water planet and I-“

He moves to hold her, and it is the first part of this encounter that actually feels natural and instinctive. She fits perfectly against him and some of those rumors about preferences may not be a problem, and he wants to make promises she won’t believe, and he wants-

“We could do everything else under blankets, if you’d like.”

“I would assume you’d like to see-“

“I do mean what I said about-“

“I see that now. You are… not quite what I thought.”

He is unsure if she means that well, but at least his attempts seem to be going somewhere, at least-

“I am curious about you, but… I can wait.”

“If you’re sure…”

“However many times I have to say that I want you to be-“

“Thank you. I would like that.”

Already not going according to plan, he thinks as he decides this is as good a time as any to start undoing his own layers. There goes… possibly the rest of his life.

Is it wrong that he already doesn’t mind?

[rhine-gold-archive]

Day 56 of waiting for sub heizou studysjsbnsns no pressure seriously I just simp

Sub! Heizou x GN Dom! Reader

A\N: It was tempting to wait full 56 days to write this, but i’m not that petty, I was just busy. Hope you enjoy.

Warnings: nsfw, overstim, slight degradation, spanking, leash play, anal sex, cock stands for strap\cock as usual.

Wordcount: 3k

I don’t think there needs to be a lot of analysis to justify Heizou being a sub, it’s fairly intentionally in your face in both hangout and ahem, birthday “yawning” art, because that’s the most most obvious bottom “O-face” since Gorou’s “moaning and tearing up over the bowl of onions” emoji.

Like in two endings he straight up says out loud his confidence is partly a facade and he’d really love for someone else to sometimes step up and take the charge, but no one does bc ppl think he’s too smart.

”Haha, well, as you might see, I’m a little less confident than people might think.”

“And everyone around me thinks I’m so smart that I should be able to handle every case on my own.<...> But you’re different. Unlike them, you don’t have that kind of prejudice towards me. <...> So I’d like you to decide whether we should expose the truth or not.”

He’s not a pushover and he’s not a pillow princess-y type, but he’s also not a brat. He’ll encourage you to take the lead and won’t criticize your choices, but he will *evaluate them*. 

First of all, on how well you’re keeping up with his hyperactive ADHD goblin nature, and second, he’ll leave the unspoken puzzle and see if you’ll manage to figure it out.

He’s open for experimentation and fairly shameless, but how far he’ll go pretty much depends on if he judges you competent enough for this.

Like, meeting him in the hangout starts with him openly calling Traveler “so dreamy”, and then he lets the Traveler decide what course of action to take, but only divulges hidden information after the Traveler showed that they have a deeper understanding of a situation and connected several puzzle dots themselves. 

His inner conflict is when it’s immoral or not to withhold information and does it depend on how capable a person given this information is. The law does not really factor into this, Heizou will act on his own principles instead.

Like in the hangout case he only tells the Traveler that he will follow their choice (see above) after the Traveler presents him with the evidence and proves they have sound judgment.

So he’d *LIKE* to let someone else make decisions, but he wants to make sure that someone else is qualified. So he won’t like outright lie, but he will withhold context if you don’t show him that you get it.

Then he can get quite clingy, like telling Traveler that he’d love to have them as a partner all the time, haha he’s joking, he wouldn’t want to be so greedy…UNLESS???

In a situation where he does trust the other person’s competence, he likes to feel helpless, overpowered and needy, if you indulge him in it. His ideal situation is where you understand that he’s smart and capable himself and he doesn’t strictly need you to take charge, but would enjoy it.

He wants to have fun without anyone making it too weird, and he wants to know you have a clear head on your shoulders, that’s it.

One day while you’re walking down the street near your home, a group of obvious miscreants runs by and a young man in white shirt and brown shorts follows them. The last of ruffians shoves him while they’re running past you and you catch him to stop him from hitting a corner of a house with his head. When the bandit looks back, you instinctively shield a man in your arms with your shoulder, and the bandit obviously judges it not worth the trouble, runs away.

When you look at the man you’re holding, he’s looking up at you with a wide smile, bright green eyes twinkling.

“Oh, thank you, my savior!”

“I didn’t do anything,” you say, putting him upright. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, sure, I’m fine!” he suddenly pauses, looks you over and says in a weaker tone, leaning into you. “I mean, I’m a little not fine, nothing major, but perhaps if someone could look after me for just a little bit?...”

You take him to get coffee just to keep an eye on him and end up talking for hours. His name is Heizou, he’s flirty, fun and cute, has ruffled mauve hair and little twin moles under his eyes, asks more questions than he’d like to answer about himself, wears a choker and a shirt that leaves his sides bare, and would very obviously love to get dommed from how he talks to you. But you cannot in good conscience take advantage of him now, because his eagerness might be an effect from the shock, so you let him go.

Day later you talk with a neighbor and he mentions how the young detective who from his words meets Heizou’s description just caught a group of pickpockets. 

“Detective, huh?” you ask out loud, and some things that didn’t make sense before fall into place. Like an exaggerated weak affect and how eagerly he pushed himself on you.

Couple of days after you walk into a confrontation in one of the secluded courtyards on the way to your home. There’s Heizou and opposite of him a group headed by the large white-haired oni. It looks incredibly awkward and staged.

“Oh, it’s my savior again!” Heizou says coquettishly, smiling at you. “Hello there! It seems you’re just in time to save me once again.”

“From what?” you say calmly, crossing your arms.

“From being mugged, of course.”

“So these guys need to be arrested, huh?”

A tall oni starts shifting nervously, looking back and forth from you to Heizou.

“Hey, hey, we didn’t agree on…”

A green-haired woman elbows him and he stumbles.

“I mean, you can’t arrest us, we’re big bad bandits, rawr!”

You ignore him, looking Heizou straight in the eyes. He pauses for a second, then pretends to be fainting in your direction. You catch him, rolling your eyes. Green-haired woman punches the oni in his side and they run away with the entire group.

“Oh, thank you,” Heizou says, looking artistically disheveled in your arms.

“No problem, Detective,” you say coldly and he tenses, straightens up.

“So you know…”

“Yeah. And I don’t appreciate being played for a fool.”

“Listen, it’s not like that… It’s just that I... I wanted you to treat me like a sub, but you didn’t do anything after we first met, and I thought maybe if you see me in an even weaker state...”

“I didn’t do anything because you seemed too irrational from shock. If you just told me the truth that you’re detective and were fine, you’d be spread on my bed few nights ago.“

He blushes, but his green eyes light up.

“I would? Oh, I mean, I am fine and we cleared the misunderstandings, so?... Um? About spreading?“

You shake your head, narrowing your eyes.

“Only come to me if you’re ready to drop your bullshit. I’m sure you can figure out how to find me, Detective.“

“Hey there!” he’s bouncing on your threshold a day after with the widest obnoxious smile, and you wouldn’t see the tinge of nervousness under it if you weren't paying attention. “So you said I can come if I dropped the bullshit and um, you can pat me over, including cavity search if you want, to make sure I haven’t got any on me”

You roll your eyes, hooking your fingers under his choker, pull him close and kiss him. He stumbles for a second, but then melts, throws his arms around your neck and presses against you. You can feel him getting hard as you pull him towards the bedroom and then throw him roughly onto the bed. He looks up, his green eyes sparkling in delight.

“Cavity search?” you say incredulously, crawling over him to slide your hands under his shirt and pulling off both of his layers. “That was terrible.”

“I know, I know, I panicked,” he moves his arms to help you get the shirt off, then pulls frantically at the ties of the armguards. “I was going to say you have a search warrant, but somehow it turned into a cavity search.”

“You’re lucky you’re so cute,” you grin against his cheek and pull his pants and underwear off in one smooth motion. He gasps, and when you grab his ankles and forcefully spread his legs, he blushes but looks you straight in the eye, already fully hard and breathless in excitement.

“I am? I mean, of course I am, but do tell me more about it.”

You kiss him instead, roam your hands over his slender body, and he arches under you, moans against your mouth. You slide your hand down, close it over hard, twitching cock and he whines, bucks his hips against your palm.

“Oh yeah,” he whispers feverishly. “Yes... Don’t be afraid to treat me rough…”

“Oh trust me, I won’t,” you grope his leaking cock and balls in your hand, firmly like you own them, and he whines sweetly, looking up at you with excitement in half-narrowed eyes. When you slide your hand down and circle his entrance, he comes immediately, pressing himself against you.

You chuckle, kissing him.

“In my defense, I spent some long nights imagining you touching me, so I’m not taking criticisms on how quick I came,“ he mutters, squirming under you, cheeks blushing brightly. 

 You grin and stand up, moving away.

“Well, you’re not getting away that easily, kitten. I’ll be back shortly.“

When you walk back to the bed, he has finished taking off the last piece of the guard and is waiting for you, naked except for the elbow-high fishnet gloves and a choker.

“I have something that I think you would like,” you smirk, showing him a leash and he gasps, visibly lighting up.

“Have you thought about becoming a detective yourself? That’s spot on.”

“It wasn’t a very hard deduction to make,” you hook your fingers under his choker, lifting him up, and he follows, grinning under the bitten lip. He’s so lovely in how blushing and eager he is while you’re closing the leash on his neck, looking up at you from under the ruffled bangs.

You turn him around, so that he leans against the bedrest and he giggles, settling down on his knees.

“Oh, great, I wasn’t sure how to breach the subject of… consequences of being naughty.”

“You don’t try playing hard to get, do you?” you grin, slide your hand from his intentionally arched back to caress smooth skin of the perky ass, obviously and eagerly presented for you.

“No, why, would you want me to?” he shoots you a sharp glance over the shoulder, analytical even now.

“No,” you say pleasantly and slap his ass, hard. He gasps, shudders, but arches even more, presses quickly reddening, tender flesh harder against your hand. You spread him and run your fingers between his legs.“I like it when you’re being open.” 

“I don’t see the point in denying the obvious,” he says, still sounding mostly collected, if a little breathless in excitement. “And if I don’t show what I want, how will I get it?”

You strike his ass again, several times in a row, until it’s blooming red and he’s whining quiet and sweet, then you stroke it.

“Very logical of you,” you say, squeezing his sensitive ass while he’s squirming needily under your hands, and kiss the sharp curve of his shoulder, move his ruffled hair aside and get to his neck. “Unlike the stunt you tried to pull earlier.”

“Oh well, I miscalculated,” he says airly. “And it’s not as if I was trying to deceive you, it’s that I know that once people hear who I am they misjudge… the way I’d want to be treated. So I just wanted to make sure you get the right impression.”

You tug on the leash, pulling him close, his back against your chest. He gasps, arches his back and rubs his ass against you.

“Or you could’ve just said so honestly, you dumbass,” you run your hand over his chest down, close it over his cock and kiss him, still tugging on the leash. He kisses you back, eager and a little sloppy, rocks his hips, rutting against your palm. 

“Well, taking your advice on speaking openly,” he whispers breathlessly after breaking a kiss, his eyelashes fluttering against your cheek. “I’m close again and I want to come from you fucking me.”

“Good boy.”

You pull him into your lap, over the strap\cock, and he squirms, straddling your knees. You catch his chin, while he’s lowering himself over onto the head of your cock, make him meet your eyes, his own hazy green, cheeks bright in blush, pink lips half-open and taking short feverish breaths. You put your hands on his hips and push him all the way down until you’re fully buried in him, and he moans, shuddering and arching in your arms.

“Ah! Oh yes, yeah, like that, oh fuck…”

He rides you, his hips moving rhythmically and his hard cock bouncing against his stomach, but when you close your hand over it, he whines, digs his fingers into your shoulders.

“Please, no, I’ll come too soon if you touch me…”

You let him go and chuckle, pepper kisses over his neck, chest, lick over his pink hardened nipple, while he’s whimpering pleas and fucking himself on your cock.

“You’re really such a slut, aren’t you?”

“Yes, fuck, I love it, I love how your cock feels inside of me, please…”

You tug on his leash, making him arch, suck on the tender juncture between his shoulder and neck. He comes just like that, screaming, his movements turning frantic. You push him down on his back, roll over him without taking your cock out.

“Can you take any more, kitten?”

“Yes.. yes, please keep fucking me,” he’s trembling under you, but says this firmly, looks you in the eye without hesitation, his ass clenching around you. “Use me like I’m your toy…”

You lift his legs up, pressing his knees against his chest, exposing his ass and thighs, still pink from spanking. You can see his oversensitive red cock getting hard just from being spread and exposed like that, and when you thrust deeply into him, he screams and tries to lift himself off the bed, writhing under you. You grip his hips and fuck him hard, hitting his prostate, until his mouth is going slack and his eyes roll over, his pleas turn into incoherent moans and whimpers. 

You lean down, cock buried deep inside him, kiss the corner of his mouth. He whines, his arms tightening around your shoulders and his hips rolling to take you even deeper.  

“You've been very good, kitten,” you whisper against his parted lips, his green eyes glittering with held tears. “Come for me, baby.”

He comes after a few thrusts, clutching at you, and you fuck him through it until he goes limp. Then you slide out of him, let him curl against you, his chest heaving, trying to catch his breath. You hold him and gently stroke his hair until he stops shivering, giving him time to come to senses before you’ll move to clean up.

“How fast will you want me to leave?” he asks, quietly, but his voice is firm, neutral. “I know I can be annoying in large doses, so if you need me to get out, I can…”

You silence him with a kiss, slow and sweet to calm him down. “It’s okay, kitten, you don’t annoy me. Don’t worry about it, just rest.”

He freezes for a second and then suddenly presses himself desperately against you, clutches at your shoulders. You stroke his hair, neck, sharp knobs of his spine soothingly, whisper sweet nothings in his ear until his body relaxes. He rubs his cheek against your chest and looks up with a cheeky grin.

“I am lucky that I’m cute, huh?”

[kithtaehyung]

Last November (M)

title: last november (m) post date: december 14th, 2020, 8pm est  ⤷ revamped/extended: march 27th, 2021, 10pm est pairing: seokjin x reader(f) genre: angst, smut, exes to lovers au summary: you two broke up on good terms. even seeing each other on your friends’ yearly end-of-november trip was never awkward. so why did this trip feel so different? and why does it feel like the end of something that wasn’t even there in the first place? warnings: angst, bad puns and jokes, mutual pining, light dom/sub undertones, oral sex (m/f receiving), nipple play, hair-pulling, choking, rough sex, unprotected sex (pls be responsible!), dirty talk, spanking, creampie, seokjin is a consent king, did i say angst?, did i also say bad puns and jokes? mobile users: alt link if this doesn’t open in tumblr ➛ AO3 word count: 23.7k 24.7k !!

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On the last Friday of every November, your group of friends piled into two cars and set off into the mountains. 

Ever since you all graduated from high school years ago, everyone branched off into their individual, intricate walks of life. Different towns, different jobs, different social circles. 

But before those grand adventures started, each of you promised one thing: a yearly trip to keep the friendship alive.

This time around, you happened to be in the “decidedly more fun” car as Jimin, Taehyung, and your longtime friend Rin jammed the backseat with singing and road trip games. Since Seokjin took driver, you claimed navigator, leaving the front of the vehicle a bit muted compared to the other half. Which was fine - you always loved relaxing on the sidelines while your friends played with chaos and hilarity. 

Namjoon kept you company from time to time, too, so you weren’t completely alone in your preferred space.  

The only thing that could’ve made the ride awkward was if you and Seokjin were on bad terms. 

It wasn’t every day you found yourself sitting beside your ex, after all. 

But that simple fact didn’t phase you. The truth was that your breakup was clean and painless - a massive relief to your friends. Back then, it would have torn everyone to pieces picking sides. 

The split was so organic that you couldn’t recall an awful reason why it happened. Separation proved as natural as the changing of seasons: you had moved away for university and he powered through his own medical pursuits. Over time, the relationship simmered to a text every few days, resulting in the night in which you decided that it was better to remain friends.

What sucked was the fact that, over the course of time after the breakup, you fell for Seokjin. Annoying, charming, incredible Seokjin. 

You didn’t come to terms with it until last November, when you watched his eyes sparkle under an indigo ocean of stars and it just clicked. Agony carved into your heart some nights when you thought about nothing else, but you couldn’t admit your feelings. Not when you two decided that your river had run its course. You couldn’t risk smothering the last embers of your relationship, so radio silence remained your lonely swan song. 

Of course you wanted to admit it. You wanted to tell him. Because no matter who came after, they all fell short. Every smile flashed your way, every pair of arms wrapped around your torso, every night spent between the sheets. Nothing compared to what you got from Jin. That man created a hole in your heart that lingered in his wake, a hole through which all of your subsequent relationships plummeted. 

The truth was simple: you didn’t want to ruin what you had. Even if what you two would always be was just friends, that endgame was enough for you.

At least, that’s what you told yourself. Every night when you couldn’t sleep, and every morning when you woke up to an empty bed.

Your vision snapped into focus as your phone screen bloomed. The maps app signaled for a turn, so you relayed the direction to Seokjin, who repeated the direction out loud before following through.

Just like always.

The road in front of you melted into a different scene entirely as you recalled why he started that habit. It sprouted from one of your car rides to a diner situated on the other side of your hometown. 

During the drive, you did your best as navigator, but your boyfriend was so into the music playing that he missed some turns. One errant right later had you both terribly lost, the surrounding area swallowing the car in darkness. On instinct, you dove into defense mode, trying and failing not to outright panic.

“My maps won’t load,” you stuttered, hitting the screen with your finger, “Shit, shit, shit.”

“Don’t worry, I can just—”

“Don’t tell me not to worry,” you bit out. “Let’s just get out of here.” You hated how pure paranoia pricked at the corners of your eyes. Getting lost was completely irksome and going back home was more appealing to you than moving forward with the date. 

“Okay. I won’t,” Seokjin assured you, turning the wheel and rolling the car out from the shadowy street. “How can I help instead?”

“Oh, umm.” With grateful eyes, you stared at your boyfriend and admired his consideration. You’ve never been asked that while upset before. “You could, uh, repeat the directions before following them? That might help.” 

His lips curved into a smile, and streetlights flooded the car to bathe his sincerity in a warm glow. “Repeat directions, you got it.”

The memory faded as you blinked and observed the endless mountain range enveloping the road. Snow topped the summits in white caps; coniferous trees swallowed the steep slopes. As if reminiscence clogged your ears, the music in the car seemed louder outside your broken reverie. 

Taehyung, as always, took charge of the aux. He usually had an eclectic mix of tunes on rotation but, that time, nothing but upbeat Christmas music was queued. You had to admit: merry music coating the car windows and mountainous scenery claiming your entire vision put you in the best mood. 

It was even better when Seokjin sang along. You really did like his singing voice. 

“I like my singing voice, too.” 

Your eyes snapped toward the driver, expression freezing over as you drank in his delight. Did you really say that out loud? You knew Seokjin enough to know that he was never going to let that go. 

“Yeah, well…” You lazily swatted his grin away. “Don’t flatter yourself.” 

Seokjin chuckled, his hands comfortably resting on the wheel. “Are you offering to do that for me? It’s minimum wage, but I’d hire you.”

Rolling your eyes felt like the only appropriate response, so you did exactly that, your exasperated gaze looping around to land on your phone. “Relish this moment, Seokjin,” you advised, zooming out in the maps app to make sure you were still heading in the right direction, “Because it won’t happen again. And take the next exit. We’re almost there.” 

“Yes, yes, next exit.” You missed the smirk on his face as he scanned the roadside for the telltale sign. “Moment relished,” he quipped, “But I prefer my moments with ketchup and mustard.” 

Your groan drowned in his boisterous laughter, but the hand on your face betrayed you since it couldn’t quite cover up the glee that formed right after. 

An hour later, everyone had unloaded the vehicles at the campgrounds and pitched the tents. While Hoseok and Jungkook worked on starting the fire pit, Namjoon and Jimin took their time organizing the food and snacks. Rin had disappeared with Taehyung somewhere, but Yoongi said he spotted them taking pictures a ways off. 

“They should be helping,” he muttered. “There’s a lot to do before it gets dark out.” 

Squatting down to rotate sizzling meat on your portable grill, you waved him off. “They’re shot-swapping since it’s golden hour.” 

The silence that followed gave you pause. When you looked up in curiosity, Seokjin and Yoongi regarded you like a foreign language coated your tongue, their struggle to decipher it earning a chuckle of pity. 

“They’re both huge influencers, so they know how to take pictures. They always do this when we get together,” you explained, spinning the kebab onto another side, “And golden hour is around sunrise and sunset. It looks like everything is soaked in gold, and it makes your pictures look pretty. But that’s an old term already! You geezers should keep up.” 

Yoongi simply raised an eyebrow and kneeled to turn his designated stick. Smoke from the charred meat wafted into your noses as he declined, “I’ll pass. That sounds stressful.” 

A rapid clapping of tongs next to your ear preceded Seokjin’s offer, “What are we waiting for? Let’s golden hour swap!” 

Why did he have to be so endearing? A cough escaped your throat, disjointed laughs following right after in their awkward escape. Beside you, Yoongi flung condescension Jin’s way, his voice stocked with disappointment as he warned, “Don’t speak. You age yourself.” 

You transferred your kebabs to a foiled plate before standing, blood rushing to your lower legs. Seokjin was unleashing a hearty tirade at the other man grilling when you intervened, “That sounds nice, actually. I’m in a photography class so I was planning on taking some photos anyways. Lemme just get my camera.” 

As you walked away, you couldn’t escape the abrupt change in atmosphere hovering over the grills, its looming tension caressing the back of your coat in a slight push. The words exchanged were soft in volume, but their possible meanings stayed clanging in your ears. 

“Did you tell her yet?” 

“No.” 

“Do it. She deserves to know.” 

You slipped out of your tent with a heavy jacket and lightheadedness. Medicine would’ve helped with the latter, but the med kit Seokjin packed remained strictly for emergencies. Besides, you couldn’t quite slap a bandage on what was truly bothering you anyways. 

As you inspected your class-registered Polaroid, you continued to wonder what Yoongi meant earlier. 

What was he implying? You deserved to know what? You couldn’t say the feeling swirling around your gut was a positive one. After all, there was a distinct difference in what a person should know, and what a person deserved to know. What was so important that Yoongi practically ordered Seokjin to spill? 

Was there another person in his life now? That was one thing that crossed your mind, but you filed that under the “should know” category, even though it twisted your stomach to think about.

The news had to be something urgent. 

Was Seokjin getting married? 

Without your permission, vessels in your heart shriveled, squeezing life from your already battered soul. A betrothal was entirely possible with his pursuit of a medical degree and coming from a well-to-do family. Maybe he was in an arrangement? 

That possibility dropped an anvil on your chest. You couldn’t say that you were completely fine were that the truth. How could you be fine with something like that if you loved him? Of course, you would be happy if he was, but your heart would require recuperation for an extended amount of time. Give or take a few years. 

You wandered so far into the depths of your mind that Seokjin’s sudden appearance kicked you back to shore, a yelp leaving your mouth at the same time your Polaroid left your hands. If the camera wasn’t hanging from your neck, you would’ve been in deep shit with your professor as soon as it hit the cold soil. 

Its bulky frame definitely bruised your lower chest on the downswing, though. “Ow. Geez, Jinnie, you can’t just sneak up on people like that.” 

Your eyes widened in realization. Jinnie? Shit, you hadn’t called him that since you guys were dating. Quite obviously, the stockpile of thoughts and worries involving his secret were blocking your brain from better judgment. 

And apparently you weren’t the only one affected by that nickname because Seokjin’s eyebrows shot into his dark locks, his peculiar glance shifting away. Odd. 

After an awkward second, he cleared his throat. “Does it hurt?” 

Is it supposed to? You knew he was inquiring about your injury but your thoughts drifted to what hadn’t been divulged yet. “No, it’s fine,” you lied. “Let’s pick a spot before we lose the light.” 

You don’t remember how long you walked, but the pair of you ended up far from the original campsite. 

In your defense, it wasn’t like you planned that outcome. The trees matched at every turn, so you kept wandering until you found a good clearing - or at least some rocks to break the forested monotony. 

A foil to your pickiness, Seokjin voiced his thoughts every ten paces, his votes of confidence constantly crushed by your boots. If you had a cent for every time he declared a spot “the one,” you could actually afford the Polaroid dangling from your neck. 

It was at a calm clearing with some patches from last snowfall where you decided to settle. 

Unhooking the strap from your neck, you ushered, “Let’s do this quick. It’s almost over.” 

“I wanna do it first!” You thought Seokjin meant to take the camera from you, but instead he scuttled into the clearing, striking a pose once he reached its center. Of course the fool meant that he wanted his pictures taken and not the other way around. How was any other idea plausible? “Hurry up, you said!” 

“The ‘S’ in Seokjin stands for ‘Selfish,’” you yelled, positioning the Polaroid against your eye regardless. His face enlarged in the lens and, to his credit, you couldn’t argue that he was the clear model between you two. The man could pursue a career in fashion instead of medicine and you wouldn’t bat an eye. 

He looked handsome merely standing there, cheeks dimpling at nothing in particular and his charm ever effortless. Even the slight bags under his eyes didn’t take away from his natural beauty. 

Par for the course with Seokjin. That unbothered self-assurance was one of the traits you liked and hated about him. 

At least, initially. The more you got to know him, your outlook on that defining characteristic was one of admiration, not hatred. You simply needed to start shoving some of that confidence down your own throat like a different type of vitamin C.

After a telltale camera snap, the man threw out his coated arms in another pose. “And the ‘Seok’ stands for ‘Seok in my presence!’” 

“I think I’ve been in it long enough. My fingers are pruny,” you droned while lowering your Polaroid, ignoring his wiggling in the background. It seemed you were still accustomed to his ridiculousness. 

Yet another thing you gave him credit for: he was never afraid to be a dork. When you first met him, you admittedly thought he was faking it. Over time, you recognized his authenticity, and you grew fond of everything wrapped in the gift that was Kim Seokjin.

You waited for the picture to materialize in your hand. When your impatient model approached you and asked why you weren’t shaking the polaroid, you informed him that you should, in fact, not do that. “It’ll damage the final product!” 

“So that song is…” 

“Wrong. Yes.” 

Pure shock flashed across his face. “What other lies have I been told?”  

The captured memory started blossoming, and you watched as the color bled into life. “That you aren’t the funniest person on the planet,” you answered, earning a scoff. 

“In that case, you’ve just been misinformed.” Seokjin huffed before offering an outstretched palm. “Now hand over the camera, it’s your turn.”

“Me?” You didn’t think he was serious when he said swap. In reality, you just assumed he whipped up an excuse for you to take pictures of him. 

And you didn’t mind. It was nice to have that charming smile directed at you, even if only through the lens of a camera. The Polaroid would be your shield, blocking Seokjin from the pain swimming in your eyes, barely afloat in pools of regret and guilt and loneliness.

“Yes, woman! When was the last time you had your picture taken?” 

Slowly, embarrassment swelled across your cheeks when you realized it had been a very long time. Legitimately long. You never asked others to take your picture; rather, you were always the one behind the lens. The last time someone actually offered was… 

“When you took one,” you stuttered out breathily, “At that park.” 

It was during one of the last dates you two went on before you left for university. There was a carnival you were dying to visit, and Seokjin surprised you with tickets and a kiss. 

You remember being so elated while traversing through the whimsical booths, failing fantastically at the rigged games, scarfing down sticky, billowy cotton candy. Squeaky horns and childish laughter filled your ears, and you could still feel Jin’s gentle fingers on your hand as he shyly tugged you under glowing stringed lights. 

The main attraction was a carousel keeping everything else in orbit, its charisma shining like a golden, spinning sun. When night fell, you too gravitated toward its charm, standing behind its barricade to watch horses and teacups endlessly turn. 

It was so captivating that you forgot yourself and where you were - who you were supposed to be spending time with. Swiveling in fear, you scanned the bustling crowd for your boyfriend, realizing that you needn’t worry at all. 

Seokjin simply waited behind you, holding up his phone and telling you to pose. You were so caught off-guard in that moment that your face contorted hilariously right as he snapped the photo. In his eyes, it was the greatest picture of all time. 

However, it wasn’t that well received by its subject. You begged Seokjin to delete it, and he finally caved on the grounds that you took a replacement. Conceding, you stomped back to the gate guarding the twirling attraction and pranked your boyfriend with a blank expression. 

But as soon as Seokjin drawled “You look like you don’t care-ousel,” you burst into laughter - your unabashed mirth becoming his background on every device he owned. 

The scene faded from your eyes as the current Seokjin stood in front of you, gripping the Polaroid instead of his phone. Gone were the lights and sounds of the theme park and, with them, your fleeting moment of solace. 

“Oh,” was all he stated in return, and you swore the temperature chose to drop in that moment just to mock you.

“You know I don’t prefer it anyways.” Your heart was losing its grip, sorrow evident in your shaky tone. You folded your arms to shield your body from the weather and unwanted emotions. “I’m definitely not as photogenic as you.” 

“Nonsense,” Seokjin shot back. “Now hurry up, it’s only golden minute now!” 

And just like that, his warmth melted any awkwardness like spring chasing away winter. 

In retrospect, he probably regarded that moment at the carnival differently, or he just wanted to keep those memories in the past where they belonged. It hurt to be the only one so strongly affected by them, but Jin had the right idea. If there existed a standard list of activities to do with an ex, talking about the past wasn’t one of the options. Especially if you had feelings for said ex. 

Plus, you didn’t forget that there was something he had to tell you. It seemed like you were going to have to wait a little longer for that, and your anxiousness wasn’t pleased.  

As you ambled to the center of the clearing, you focused more on the crunching sounds your boots made rather than your feelings. With a quick survey of the area, you surmised that it really was a pretty spot, the mountain range peeking behind the trees adding depth to the setting. Adjusting your outfit, you took a breath of courage before staring at the eye of the Polaroid.

Seokjin moved the camera from his face and called your name, roping your gaze to his concern. “Smile, okay?” 

On instinct, your throat constricted. You couldn’t hide behind the lens that time. But smile you did, and you hoped Seokjin thought it genuine, silently pleading him to not notice the anguish lingering behind your crescent eyes. 

The fire pit your friends constructed blazed bright as you both made it back to the campgrounds. Everyone occupied the surrounding logs and, judging from the soft pop pumping from a portable speaker, Jungkook must have commandeered music control.

Jimin turned when he heard your footsteps, his expression indiscernible as he shifted his gaze between you and Jin. Thankfully, he didn’t say anything, only turning back to Yoongi to continue their conversation. 

Seokjin and you parted ways effortlessly: he slotted into the empty space next to Namjoon and you headed to your tent to stow your camera. 

And for some reason, that easy departure was hard to swallow. 

Your pitched space offered warmth upon entry, and you dumped yourself onto your sleeping bag without a word. A few quiet moments passed before you unzipped your backpack, the tiny action feeling so tedious, so difficult to achieve. 

After you finally stored your equipment and closed your bag shut, you just… sat there. Contemplative. 

Mentally, you were in a bad place. Your thoughts and emotions banged into each other, their war rendering you powerless - captive. Fidgeting with the plasticky fabric of your sleeping bag, you thought back to what happened after you two left the photo spot.

It was an uneventful walk back for the most part. The polaroids turned out nice, all thanks to the very rare and very expensive camera you borrowed. Seokjin claimed yours and handed you his, and faced with your sudden curiosity, he sheepishly offered, “You don’t have to keep it.” 

You were more questioning of the fact that he stored yours in his jacket, but you didn’t want to broach that subject. It was beginning to scare you. Maybe it was the fact that he was acting strange, coupled with the other fact that he was hiding something from you. 

Why were you suddenly afraid to confront him? You two were open with each other during your relationship. Were you also wanting to put this dreaded conversation off as long as possible, too? 

If he was with someone else, though, would he still be keeping your picture? 

It was too much to think about, so you tried to lock everything in a box and sit on it. 

You saw the light of the campfire after a few minutes of walking through the woods - a handful of silent, crawling minutes. It was bugging you that Seokjin didn’t say anything on the way back. A quiet Jin was a Jin knee deep in thought, and not in good circumstance. In a moment of weakness, you almost offered out your hand to grab his, but you instead crammed it inside your coat pocket. 

When you both rejoined your friends, it seemed so easy for you guys to separate, like you didn’t just go off and do something so intimate. Even though that wasn’t the word you wanted to use. 

You resigned yourself to the big picture nonetheless: it wasn’t like what Taehyung and Rin did. Your best friend was insanely popular on social media with her carefully curated feed and relatable-yet-unachievable style. Taehyung had his own massive following for different reasons, and you couldn’t deny that he knew exactly what he was doing to gain the hearts of many. They were snapping photos for each other to show millions of anonymous beings across the world. 

You and Seokjin just took photos for each other to have. No one else was going to see those. 

Why did you feel like that was significant? 

The edge of your sleeping bag began to fray under duress, so you plucked your body off the ground and slipped back outside. What you expected was the temperature dipping a couple degrees in nightfall. What you didn’t expect was Jimin waiting for you, puffy jacket and all, leaning against a tree. 

When he saw you emerge from your tent, he straightened and regarded you with caution. “Everything okay?”

You adjusted the front of your coat before fishing a beanie out to cover your ears. “Yeah, why?”

“You were just in there for awhile,” Jimin explained, his eyes searching yours, “And you were with him for a long time.”

“I don’t like being interrogated, Park,” you sighed.

“I know, I just…” He mirrored you and huffed his own breath toward the ground. A quick glance had you noticing that his own beanie was knit as thick as the fog in your mind. “I just want to make sure.” 

Jimin was whom you considered closest next to your best friend and formerly Seokjin. After your break up, Jimin regularly sent you texts to check on you, despite your constant assurance that you were okay. It got to a point where you phoned him and pleaded reprieve - to reach out only if he had something critical to say. 

His broken reply? He only texted you because Seokjin wouldn’t. 

You ended up crying after that call, and the tears annoyingly persisted a couple nights following. 

He was also one of the only two people in the world that knew you loved Jin. Rin was the other, and that’s only because you let it slip during a girls’ night over cheap wine and period piece movies. Something about an early morning confession in a dewy meadow was enough to loosen your alcohol-mottled tongue.

After you ran your fingers over your head, you responded, “Can I ask you something?” 

Your friend’s eyes roamed over your face. “Of course.”

“What’s he hiding from me?”

Jimin instantly clammed up at the question. His dancer frame assumed a rigid position, each limb locking, including his jaw. “It’s not my place to say,” he answered gravely, pulling anger from your center.

“Does everyone else know this secret except me?” You really couldn’t take it anymore, especially knowing that something you supposedly deserved to know was possibly public knowledge. 

“Just the guys,” Jimin divulged, and you scoffed. 

“I can’t believe this.” You made to walk away, in the opposite direction of the campfire. Into the woods again.

Jimin said your name like he just wanted you to understand already, halting you mid-stride. “I’ve been trying to get him to talk to you. Trust me, I have.”

“He’s a grown man, Park. His decisions aren’t your problem,” you whispered. 

“But aren’t they yours?” 

“Not anymore. We aren’t together right now, if you don’t recall.” You knew you were spitting bullshit, and Jimin did, too. If Seokjin wasn’t giving you problems, you wouldn’t have been hiding in your tent or literally and figuratively walking away from him. Guiltily, you turned back to face Jimin and give him his credit. 

He was this way for everyone in your group: the glue that hung on and fought to keep people from breaking apart. Whenever a fight broke out between warring parties, Jimin was the middle man. Always. 

Sighing, you relented, “I’m sorry I’m taking this out on you. I’m just so confused, and the longer he hides whatever he’s hiding from me, the more restless I’ll be.”

“Everyone is on your side in this,” Jimin replied. “He just needs to, I don’t know, woman up.”

A breath of laughter escaped you at the tweaked phrase, the tension coating your shoulders slowly sliding off in clumps. “Did you say ‘woman up?’”

“Men aren’t shit,” your friend explained, pointing a gloved finger to punctuate every syllable. “At least women get things done.”

“I would totally drink to that if I had a bottle in my hand, Jimin.”

“Ah, well that can be arranged!” The boy’s eyes crinkled as he spun on a heel. “Let’s go. Jungkook and Taehyung brought out the drinks awhile ago. I missed out on a few bottles already talking to you.”

“Oh, I feel so remorseful,” you cooed, your voice worthy of giving kids cavities. “Almost as if I cared.” 

“Ass,” Jimin snapped, but he could only laugh. When you joined his side, he turned and whispered, “But seriously. If he doesn’t talk about it by the end of this trip, I’m giving him hell.” 

The temperature dropped again at that moment, and the wind blowing through the pines cut straight into your bones. Your shoulders hunched on instinct and you blinked to get needed moisture. Was it going to snow? The skies above did look intimidating. Was it going to storm? 

A sudden trepidation settled into your gut. “Did we check the weather,” you queried, shuffling through your brain to see if you monitored it yourself before the trip. 

“Uh-umm, I did,” Jimin answered through chattering teeth, “But I didn’t see anything other than it being cold.” 

You pulled out your phone and regretted doing so, your fingers freezing over instantly. You were lucky you all chose a location that was still in signal range - really, thanks went to Rin and Taehyung for incessantly demanding it every year.

Pulling up the weather app after a few tries, you cursed at the oncoming forecast. “Well, there’s more to it. Snow’s coming in,” you relayed to Jimin. “Let’s pack up and find a place to stay.” 

The car ride to the nearest lodging felt immensely different than the ride to the campgrounds. Some people focused on defrosting, one person worried about the people in the front, and the two said people in the front weren’t talking at all. 

It was you that broke the silence when you steadily gave directions, and Seokjin would repeat them like always. Selfishly, you wanted the car ride to keep going just so you could hear his voice. He wasn’t saying anything otherwise, and there wasn’t music playing for him to absentmindedly sing along to. 

The first snowfall was light as your caravan entered the small town nearby, which relieved you. Tiny snowflakes clung onto the windows and you lost yourself in their geometric patterns. Lights from the shops and other stray cars reflected in the slick roads to create a symphony of color, and white patches already settled on trees that lined the main way. 

Seokjin spotted the lodge first, and he rolled into a spot towards the entrance, Jungkook’s car slotting into the next space. Your driver rolled down his window and repeatedly pointed his finger down to signal for Yoongi to follow suit. “Let’s go in and make sure they have our rooms first,” he called out, and Jungkook leaned over his console to shout a hearty okay.

You hoisted yourself out of the car and waited for the boys to follow. Seokjin went to stand next to you, but instead of Jungkook popping out of the other car, it was Namjoon that emerged. You could only guess that the youngest slyly started a game to have the loser get out. 

Your stomach turned when you realized it was most likely because no one wanted to be left alone with you and Seokjin. 

Remorse burned your throat. This trip was supposed to be fun, but it just felt strained. Were you overthinking? Or was your churning gut correct in its assumption? 

At the very least, you hoped everyone else was having a better time than you were. 

It seemed that the man beside you had the same feeling that a challenge was pitched. “Rock-paper-scissors? Or nose goes?”

Namjoon just laughed at the ground as his face flushed. “Nose goes, and I put my finger on my mouth so, umm, that’s that.” 

You chuckled while you three made your way to the door, both of them towering over you on either side. Seokjin opened the entrance for everyone and, when you stepped foot inside, you were hit with a wave of warmth mixed with an undercurrent of gingerbread. The entirety of the main entrance bathed in plaid or embroidered throws, and there was an obvious affinity for Christmas on display with the plethora of garlands, lights, and a towering Christmas tree in the front bay window. 

Namjoon and Seokjin quickly got distracted by the toy train running through a snowy village setup. Adorable, but not helpful. 

Alone at the front desk, you received confirmation that your group had four bookings, and you thanked the concierge while you gathered the keys. 

The rooms weren’t next to each other. One of them sat on another floor, and the rest were separated but shared the same level. 

A container of pamphlets caught your attention, so you grabbed one before strolling away. “Guys, let’s claim our rooms. After that, you can watch the train all you want,” you called out, tapping them both on the back with the thin brochure. 

They swiveled their heads to your retreating form before following you out the door. 

“No. We are not doing that again.” 

“Come on, hyung, it’ll be fun!” 

“I’m with Yoongi on this one. We could all end up in the same room.” 

“But what if you get a room to yourself?” 

“Why can’t we ever just pick like normal people? And Hoseok-hyung, you laugh but you have the worst luck out of all of us.” 

“Excuse me! That’s only because you all psyche me out!” 

“Let’s just pick something. My phone’s almost dead.” 

You stood next to Rin while you two watched the boys decide how room assignments were determined. It was a sight to see: them crowding the small hallway, bags littered around their bulky shoes. You both were thankful they were courteous enough to let you two keep a room to yourselves. They even made sure yours wasn’t on the other floor, just so that you girls wouldn’t be alone. 

They were going to pick random rooms one-by-one, not knowing which options the others picked until they opened a door. If you and your friend also had to choose, you were risking the possibility of being stuck with Seokjin, which was the last thing you wanted. 

On a day where your friendship was actually normal, that wouldn’t have mattered one bit. But right then? The tension surrounding him would have been detrimental. 

He had something to say; he wasn’t saying it. You were a sitting, fidgeting duck. 

Jungkook whipped his phone out to search the internet for a random coin flip generator. “Here. Heads, we do it. Tails, we don’t.” 

Yoongi just snickered in defeat and already started picking up his bag. “I call picking first.” 

His intuition proved sharp as the generator pulled up Heads: they were going with the random room assignments. Taehyung kicked his head back with a sigh, and Jimin and Jungkook burst into laughter while the elders collectively groaned.  

As Rin giggled at their misfortune, you sent a rueful smile Seokjin’s way out of habit. You were still friends, after all, and he seemed so distraught over the prospect of horrid results. His eyes locked onto yours and, for a brief moment, he offered a shy grin in return.

The fluttering in your chest was quickly shooed away. 

It was while everyone relaxed around a public lounge area that Jungkook hurled an accusation, his eyes alight with the flames licking the nearby fireplace. “Hyung cheated.” 

Seokjin immediately sat up in his plush chair and retorted, “Take that back! I did nothing of the sort. You all were just too lazy to take the stairs to the next floor.”

Taehyung shot him a side eye and shared his own eloquent opinion. “Seems sus.” 

A whole new wave of bickering erupted, and you redirected your attention to the snow storm blustering outside tall windows. 

You were thanking every deity above that you guys decided to leave in time. It would’ve been hell in the campsite during this weather, or even while squeezed into the cars. 

Though the original plans were derailed, you were pretty happy with the current lodging situation. Who knew a small town would have a humongous lodge? It had to be assumed that this was the main business keeping the town running. Rin was absolutely drinking it in and stated she even wanted to bring her family there, her thoughtfulness curving your mouth upwards.

Another good thing that came out of this trip proved to be the room assignments that Jungkook ended up loathing. They had you clutching your sides when all was said and done.

Four of the boys managed to pick the same room, and Hoseok and Yoongi snagged a room to themselves. These results resulted in one Kim Seokjin speeding up and down the hallway, wholeheartedly shouting with glee. Yoongi almost crumpled to the ground in relief at the end, and Hoseok fell over in laughter when he entered the full room. You could feel the desperation in Namjoon’s muffled voice as he begged Seokjin to let him change rooms. The only reply he received was an ominous “If you behave.” 

“Don’t blame us,” Yoongi laughed out, both hands lightly gripping the arms of the rocking chair he chose. “This is what you young people get for trying to be cute.” His relief from only having to bunk with one other person left him chipper, you noticed. To his credit, it was amusing that the youngest four ended up in the same room. 

“Okay, gramps,” Jungkook snapped, earning a laugh from Jimin on the seat next to him. “But she definitely gave hyung clues!” 

You whipped your head around to shoot a confused look toward your accuser. “Me?” 

Multiple eyes darted between you two like pinballs, and you didn’t have time to brace for his next words,

“You know you won’t see him again after this trip, so you—” 

“—Kook!” 

All oxygen abandoned you as Jimin rushed to shut the younger man’s mouth, practically slapping his face. Eyes popped out of his head as Jungkook paled in realization. 

The rest of the boys bore glares into the youngest one’s countenance, but Seokjin turned directly towards you with concern. 

What just happened? Your fingers gripped the varnished wood of your chair as you slowly locked eyes with your ex, and your heart dropped like a stone when he shifted his gaze to the floor. 

What the fuck was happening? Your brain was going haywire. What did Jungkook mean? You wouldn’t see Seokjin after this trip? The man that you couldn’t wait to see on the last Friday of every November? That was bogus. He was joking. It was a joke, right? One more weekend before Seokjin was gone from your life forever? Impossible. Ludicrous.

Why wasn’t anyone saying anything? 

Beside you, Rin clutched one of your tense fists in her soft palms. Addressing the group, her sharp tone demanded an answer when she asked, “What the hell is going on?” 

The silence that followed was palpable. Not even the pleasant music drifting through the lodge was enough to damper the tension. 

“I think,” Yoongi finally murmured, his words ice, “This is our cue to leave.”  

“No need,” your friend snipped, “We’ll go.” She whispered your name before softly tugging you to vacate your seat. 

When you pried yourself from the cushion, it took a moment for you to control your legs to actually move. You knew all the guys were watching you, but you were too embarrassed to acknowledge them, too upset to look any of them in the eye. 

Rin led you away from the lounge, making sure you were heading toward the nearest staircase before spinning on her heel. “To the unfortunate soul that gets to explain this to me,” she bit, clutching everyone’s attention in her underlying threat, “Text me where to meet you in ten minutes.” 

Both you and Rin occupied the carpet, backs against the cookie cutter sofa that existed in each room. 

You two pushed the furniture around so that the couch faced the windows instead of the plain TV, and you surprised your friend by dumping yourself onto the ground instead of the cushions. Rin didn’t question you, though. She only followed suit. 

The curtains were shoved to the side to reveal the relentless storm, and you watched the swirls and streaks of white until your head fell onto Rin’s shoulder. 

“I should’ve been paying attention to you,” she murmured, “I’m sorry.”

You shook your head, the motion feeling awkward in its tilt. “No, no. You’ve been having a fun time, so I’m happy I didn’t ruin that.” Your laugh was dry. “Until now, at least.”

Rin lowered her shoulder so that you rested more comfortably. “How are you feeling?” 

“Like I’m going through a breakup again.”

Fuck. You didn’t realize until the words left your lips that it’s how you really felt. 

It had been a few years since you guys ended things. Throughout that whole time, you didn’t feel awkward one bit.  

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. The “date” that Seokjin brought to the Christmas party last year made you want to tear your hair out. But, that was because she was obviously after his finances and that was the year you realized you loved him. 

The conversation you had with Seokjin turned sour, but you really wanted him to see the big picture. You could still recall that night with clarity, the snow falling much lighter than what you currently witnessed outside. 

“Seokjin, do you honestly think she likes you?” The red dress you wore was so vibrant that it glinted off the dinnerware spread across the decadent table nearby. 

When you pulled your ex aside that night, the only quiet place you could find was the dining room, long abandoned once everyone got their seconds. Up until this point, it was obvious Seokjin wasn’t understanding you. You tried to tell him how you saw it, and he would just brush things aside. 

“You sound like you care more than I do,” he accused, his eyes looking everywhere but your face.

Before you responded, you scoffed. “I’m your friend. Of course I’m going to care.” 

You remember the strong emotions you suppressed that night. You couldn’t let more things slip than necessary. Yes, you could show him you cared. Yes, you could show him he needed someone else. Just as long as you didn’t give too much of your own feelings for him away. “You deserve someone that at least likes you, for you.” 

Seokjin finally stared back at your stormy features, his eyes filled with something unsaid. You sucked in a breath. What else would he say? You liked him for everything he was, but that relationship didn’t pan out. Obviously. You would’ve been going to this Christmas party together if you still dated. 

Maybe you shouldn’t have been having that conversation - it was already hard enough for you to say you were his friend. You wanted to be more than that. Again. 

“I know she doesn’t like me,” he finally admitted, running a hand through his bangs. The urge to caress his ever soft strands filled you with grief. 

You really did like his hair, and it looked even better when coupled with his Nutcracker-esque attire. 

“Then why…” You struggled to find a reason why they were even there together. It was a Christmas party with your friends. Why would he bring someone that he didn’t like? 

“She’s interested in Namjoon.” Seokjin’s eyes quickly turned into crescents when he witnessed your expression, and his full lips pursed to contain his laughter. “I was trying to get her off me the whole night, but she was trying harder than she needed to to make him jealous. I’m irresistible, you know.” 

“Irritable is more like it,” you growled, playfully shoving him aside. “Ass! I was just trying to protect you and you knew this whole time!” 

“It’s nice to know you’re looking out for me!” The man beamed as he made his way out of the dining room. 

“Yeah, well,” you whispered, tensing slightly when he stopped. “They have to be perfect. It’s what you deserve.” And you really did mean that.  

Seokjin’s smile faltered, and you shot him a half-smile before exiting the room yourself. 

That was the last time you guys had an argument, if you could even call it that. The rest of the moments you had with him were completely fine. You wondered if Seokjin could see through you during that conversation. He was perceptive, sure, but you may have gotten away with looking like just a good friend. 

It was just worrisome since you couldn’t control your emotions that night. You only got to see him in person during these November trips and Christmas parties when you went home, after all. Seeing him again after realizing you loved him ignited something within you, and it took the whole night to put that fire out.

This looming news just felt way too heavy to handle. Was it because you reached where the sidewalk ended? You weren’t going to see his face in person or hear his laugh out loud. There wasn’t going to be off-the-cuff, awful dad jokes thrown your way every end of November. 

A nagging idea, far in the depths of your mind, kept tapping your shoulder. But you brushed it off with a scowl. 

Even if you acknowledged the concept, there was no way Seokjin felt the same about you. Neither one of you said you loved each other throughout the time you were dating. Were there times you thought you did? Admittedly, yes. Did you ever think about telling him? Another yes. But he never hinted that he felt the same, so it would’ve been awkward for you if it turned out he didn’t. The absence of a confession kept you from revealing yours. So of course even now, you couldn’t tell him. Especially since he was apparently leaving.

Rin didn’t speak for awhile, but you knew she wasn’t the best at comforting people. She was number one at standing up for you and protecting you, but when it came to the softer parts of consoling, she did flounder. Which was endearing and calming in itself.

“How can I help,” she simply offered, and you nuzzled further into her neck. She always smelled so nice, your guardian Rin.

The adrenaline from Jungkook’s bombshell, your swift exit, and the constant stream of thoughts started to wane. Exhaustion slowly took its place like honey sliding into a jar. Softly, your eyelids drooped and you whispered, “This room is a castle, so be my big bad dragon and don’t let anyone in.” 

The last sound you heard before falling asleep was a tinkling laugh followed by a small “As you wish, princess.” 

When you regained consciousness, you discovered that you were strewn across one of the beds instead of the ground. You couldn’t even estimate how much time passed while you were out, but the storm outside was still thrashing and the only light in the room was the emergency one by the door. 

You groggily propped up weary limbs in search of your phone, eventually swiping it from the nightstand. Still half-asleep, you barely registered the pain meds and glass of water sitting on that same table, their dark silhouettes waiting patiently. 

Bright pixels mocked your drool-covered chin. Scrunching your face instinctively, you scrolled through your notifications while blinking sleep from your lashes. You received multiple texts, but you didn’t want to open the threads completely, so you opted to check them from the Home screen. 

Jiminie [7:20pm]: Fuck, I’m sorry that happened. Please be okay. Love you.

Tae [7:21pm]: free hugs whenever you need. you know the drill. 

Rin-Rin [7:36pm]: I know you said not to let anyone in but I literally couldn’t carry you to the bed. Forgive me!

Yoongi [7:37pm]: He’s in his room. I kept telling him to tell you. I know it’s shit to find out this way so if he doesn’t explain things to you, I will. 

Hobi [7:39pm]: we’re here for u love!! let me know if u need anything. there’s a small concession stand downstairs so if u need smth i can run it up!!

Jiminie [7:40pm]: Kook is in bad shape. He swore he thought hyung told you already. Don’t worry tho. I’m not letting him off easy.

Rin-Rin [7:43pm]: Hey, love. Just spoke to Seokjin. I think you need to talk to him yourself, but only if you feel up for it. 

Joonie [7:45pm]: I gave Rin a bottle of pain meds we had in our room 

Joonie [7:45pm]: Go ahead and take some when you wake up

Joonie [7:45pm]: We can count this as an emergency

Jiminie [8:21pm]: Let me know if you’re okay, okay?

Kook [8:33pm]: I’m so sorry 

Rin-Rin [8:48pm]: Grabbing us some snacks from downstairs, I’ll brb. 

Your battered heart sank even more when you noticed a distinct absence amongst the names. Seokjin didn’t send you a single message. 

What had gotten into him? Did he still not want to talk to you despite you knowing his secret? You clicked your phone shut without opening any of the messages and sunk into the pillows. It was 8:49pm, so you had barely missed Rin’s departure. Her exit was probably what woke you. 

Unwittingly, you found your device in front of your baggy eyes again, berating yourself for hovering over Seokjin’s thread. The last text he sent stared back at you in a mocking set of pixels. 

Kim JokeJin [Thursday, 9:23pm]: Let’s make this one the best one! 

With the previous context, this was just a regular message about the yearly trip. With the right context, these words tied your throat in a knot.  

You were sure you loved him, but what you were feeling now was even stronger. If you were honest with yourself, you would say that this is what yearning truly felt like, what something deeper than love felt like. 

But you were a fool and a liar, so you convinced yourself it was only because you wouldn’t see him again. 

As soon as you were about to give up and lock your phone, the thread updated with a new text from Seokjin, and you stilled. 

Kim JokeJin [8:51pm]: You’re probably still asleep, so I don’t want to wake you. 

You immediately clicked on his message, your anxiousness protected by the absence of Read receipts. The typing bubble kept popping in and out of the screen and, with bated breath, you waited to see if a second text slid into the thread. A hard exhale whooshed from your throat when the second message came through. 

Kim JokeJin [8:53pm]: But I owe you an explanation so come up when you can. 

Fingers locked your phone in an instant when the door creaked on its hinges. Rin entered with an armful of chips and various candy bars, and as you started to get up, she tutted.  

“Sit down, lady.” Packages crinkled as she dumped them onto your covered legs in a processed, sweet and salty heap. “Did you take the medicine?” 

You shook your head, very sure that you looked like a cranky Troll doll. 

“Go ahead and eat something really quick so the medicine will work. When you’re awake enough…” Rin’s voice trailed off, but you filled in the blanks yourself. Go talk to him was what she wanted to say. 

“Can’t you just tell me what he said?” You were hopeful that Rin would save you the pain of confronting Seokjin yourself. In reality, she denied your request. 

“Not this time,” she murmured, ��This is something that needs to come from him.” 

You figured as much, but it didn’t hurt to try getting out of it. It was a conversation that you both wanted and dreaded to have. Under your goosebumps, your bones trembled.

If you were frightened by the mere gist of it, how were you going to react to the real thing?

The reality was that you needed the closure Seokjin was offering. You didn’t think this vacation - or your friendship, for that matter - could regain normalcy until you had this talk. “Sorry I ruined this trip,” you whispered, playing with a corner of the closest bag of chips. 

“I’m sorry, is your name ‘Jungkook?’” Rin laughed. “I’m kidding. It’s not ruined. At the very least, it’s salvageable. Maybe.”

“You should be a weather girl with these confident forecasts,” you joked, coaxing a laugh from your friend. You offered a small smile in return, but your heart wasn’t in it. She kinda forgot that this is the last trip you guys would have with Seokjin. If anything, it was doomed from the start. 

Little striations ran across the door greeting you, shallow cuts skirting up and down the frame. You roved your eyes over the rough texture; contemplative, lost in the mahogany brown expanse. 

If only you were a sturdy tree. You wouldn’t have to worry about any hard conversations in life. All you would’ve had to worry about was possibly becoming a rickety chair for a spoiled brat, or one of Namjoon’s tables that he would eventually damage and lament over. 

With a breath, you finally knocked. 

It didn’t take long for Seokjin’s freshly showered form to answer, and when you saw him dressed down to a plain white shirt and black pants, you quickly shifted your eyes to the floor. Didn’t he know that outfit was your favorite? Your weakness? 

“Hey,” you simply said. “I’m awake now.” 

He nodded and let you in, the door closing with a soft click. When you crossed the room, you stopped in front of the couch, anticipation already caking onto your clothes. There wasn’t much to say on your end, you figured, so Seokjin had to take the lead. 

Instead of launching into topic, he walked towards you and grabbed a bottle from his nightstand. “Do you want some water?” 

You could only stare at the plastic in question. “Did I come here for water, Seokjin?” 

There was a heavy pause before the man planted his offering on the nightstand. “No.” Sitting on the longer side of his bed, he clasped his hands together, blank eyes glued to the floor. “Jungkook is right. I won’t be able to go on these trips anymore.” 

“Why?” 

“I, umm,” Seokjin answered, his words fumbling, “I kinda got into Harvard Medical School.” 

“What?” Your anxiousness was forgotten as you gawked at him. That was what he was holding back from you? All this time? That amazing, fantastic, crazy news? Without thinking, you bounded toward him and crushed him in a hug, careful to not push him back onto the bed. “Seokjin! This is what you couldn’t tell me?” 

His arms remained at his sides. When he responded, his explanation bounced onto your shoulder, “I literally won’t have a life once I start. None of you will be able to see this face, isn’t that enough to be sad about?” 

Another moment of weakness came over you, and instead of overcoming it, you gave in. Your arms tightened around him and you whispered, “No, I’m so happy for you. You’ve worked so hard…” 

There were bags under his eyes for a reason. You knew the nights he got three hours of sleep far outweighed the nights he got more than that. The reason you two didn’t get to see each other was his relentless studying and discipline, and you didn’t want him to have to choose between you and a future career. You both were way too young for those rash decisions. 

It was with this memory that you were reminded of why you broke up: you wanted him to focus on his goals and you would do the same. “Really, I’m so proud of you.” 

Why you hadn’t let go of him at that point was a mystery to you, but you couldn’t seem to stop. The feel of his body against yours consumed you, held you captive even if his arms didn’t. 

But after a moment, you felt strong limbs wrap around your sides and emotion wrap around your throat. 

You don’t remember the last time you two truly embraced. It was a given that the last time you did, you were both completely different people. Both so young. Both so naive.

“Thank you,” Seokjin breathed, his head finally a beautiful burden on your shoulder, “But there’s more.” 

Tension froze your veins, taking the color from your complexion. Of course there was more. There was no way that was the big reveal, even though it was a monster in itself. “Oh,” was all you managed to squeak out. 

Seokjin’s arms gently pushed your body away so that he could look you in the eyes. You already missed his stronghold, but you listened as he spoke. “My parents want me to go back home. To Korea.” 

You blinked. “Even though you got into Harvard?” 

“No, no, after that,” Seokjin expressed with a level of confidence only he could achieve. Like it was inconceivable that he wouldn’t get his doctorate. He then searched your face, the pause holding weight. “So, I don’t know if I’ll see you guys again.” 

The wind howled outside and you shivered as if you were standing out there in the cold. There was so much that you wanted to say, but all the thoughts you had in your head melded together into sludge. Words struggled to leave your mouth. Nothing processed correctly in your brain. 

Seokjin wasn’t joking - not this time. He really was going to be swamped in work and work and more work. Even the holidays were going to be crammed, and you were sure he wanted to use those rare rest periods solely to recharge. 

Yes, he would still be able to text and call everyone, but that would be the extent of communication. He wasn’t big on social media. Even if he was, there would certainly be a dip in his activity now. 

Just like you felt earlier, you really did feel like you were going through a breakup again. Only this time, the last remains of your relationship were at stake. 

You didn’t want that. 

“We’d still be friends,” you weakly offered, wondering if you were just saying that to convince yourself. 

An empty chuckle startled you, and when you looked at Jin, he directed an empty gaze toward his nightstand’s lamp. “Yeah… We’d still be friends,” he repeated, and the way he said that made your shoulders sag. It was almost as if he didn’t believe you. 

“But Seokjin… You should be so happy. I mean, you’re incredible,” you whispered, a heavy feeling weighing down your chest.

“What if I’m not?” 

You sucked in a breath, suddenly not knowing what to do. Was he saying that hypothetically? No. There wouldn’t be a reason for him to ask if he truly was. 

How were you supposed to respond to that? Being a doctor was his goal - you were sure of it. If he got accepted into Harvard of all places, then his future glimmered as bright as his charm. “What do you mean,” was what you decided to say. Because you needed more from him than that. 

“You said I should be happy. What if I’m not?” 

“This is what you’ve been working towards your whole life!” It didn’t make any sense. None of this was making any sense. Who wasn’t happy that they got accepted to one of the most prestigious medical programs in the world? “You did everything you could, and now you have something to show for it! We even broke up over this. And that’s fine,” you quickly added at the end. You didn’t want Seokjin to feel bad for that at all. 

“What I’m trying to say is,” you continued, wanting to get every logical word out before more irrational ones escaped. “You’ve gotten everything you wanted. You deserve to be happy.” 

You could feel the doors of your heart scraping shut. Even if you wanted to try to be with him again, you would have to give up on that dream. There was no way it was going to work if it didn’t pan out last time. 

Fists clenched, you hated how your heart gravitated towards Seokjin on this damn trip, loathed how your brain produced its own highlight reel. Somehow, they both knew this was the end before you did. 

“I don’t have everything I want, but you’re right. I’ll be happy.” He sounded bitter. Why did he sound so bitter?

“What more could you want,” you blurted, the question materializing between the two of you in bold letters. You were just getting frustrated at this point. 

This was his dream. The ultimate goal. The one thing he wanted out of life.

“It doesn’t matter.” 

“It does to me.”

“Well, it’s none of your concern.”

“I don’t care if it is or not.”

“You really want to know?” Seokjin shot off the bed, immediately towering over your small stature. As your eyes reached his face, you watched as his lips twisted, your shocked features taking in his frustration. “It’s… It’s love, okay? That might sound weird to you, but I’ve realized that all of this is pointless without it. That’s what I’m missing. I want to love again.” He shoved a hand through his hair, his forehead slightly wrinkling under duress. 

The first thing that threw you off was the mere mention of the word. That was so brave of him to even bring it up. With you, of all people: someone he’s dated before. It must have taken so much courage for him to admit that. 

But there was another word in there that stood out amongst all the others.

Again. He said again. Did he love someone before? He couldn’t have been referring to what you guys had. You never once said those words to each other while you dated. So who was he thinking of? And why did it hurt to know that he had loved before and it wasn’t you? 

“I didn’t know you wanted that,” you replied, your voice painfully small. “But I don’t think it’s weird.”

You wanted nothing more than to just confess to him already, but you had no clue what he would say if he didn’t want something with you. The moment escaped like a thief in the night.

“Ah, well, if you knew the whole story,” Seokjin sighed, his breath shaky, “You would definitely think it’s stupid.”

“Why did it end the first time?” You wanted to get to the bottom of it. Maybe through his explanation, you could find something salvageable. You cared about him - so damn much. Seeing him in a state of utter helplessness seized your heart and gripped it tight. “With the one you… you loved. What happened?”

Seokjin’s indiscernible stare pierced through your soul, his silence screaming that he didn’t want to talk about it. 

And you understood his reluctance. The list of activities to do with an ex didn’t include this as an option, either. 

You felt the steely aftertaste of guilt on your tongue. Maybe he wanted you to just leave him alone already. Besides, you already pushed him to tell a multitude of truths that night. Asking him about a past love life was most likely crossing the line. “I’m sorry,” you apologized, uprooting yourself from your spot to leave. “You don’t have to tell me. I’ll leave you alone.” 

You made it three steps before Seokjin responded, “She decided to end it.” 

A vice clamped your chest. You stood in your new spot closer to the door, eyes boring into the floor. “Even though you were in love?” 

That must have been awful. If you loved him when you two broke it off, it would have absolutely hurt. Very much like what was happening to you now, in fact. Because fuck, were you absolutely disintegrating like a paper on fire. 

“I don’t think she loved me,” Seokjin disclosed, his words tightening the clasp around your lungs. “But I loved her.” 

“I’m so sorry, Seokjin.” Tears brimmed across your eyes, but you didn’t want him to see you break. You thrummed with so many emotions in that moment, swept by the current of his words, his heavy tribulations.

He loved someone in the past. You loved him in the present. If only you both harbored a love for each other in at least one point in your lives. 

“That must have been hard.”

“It wasn’t, for the most part.” His brittle words crumbled as they appeared. “I saw it coming.”

You chewed on your lip. Seokjin’s confessions were so full of pain - the amount of love he had for this person was obvious. Looking back on your relationship, you remember your split being mutual. It was mutual, right? There weren't any feelings involved. Whichever other situation Seokjin was referring to had to be sometime after you. 

Maybe it was someone during his college days. But wouldn’t you have at least heard about them through the friend circle? Their name must have just left your mind. You knew Seokjin flirted a lot but he needed to be serious to really start a relationship. This one just sounded tragic. 

“I don’t know what to say,” you admitted sincerely, your chest about ready to collapse, “Other than don’t give up. You can do it. Love again.” The joints in your knees threatened to give out. Telling the one you loved that he could find someone again was too much. Too, too much.

“Ah, yeah. Well.” Seokjin turned away from you in a shrug. Even the back of his profile was perfect. “Thanks for being a good, uh, friend.” 

Friend. Could you teleport to your room and stay there? You couldn’t be the one to give him what he wanted, especially since he was about to be gone for a very long time. No matter how much you wanted to. Oh, how you wanted to. 

You swung around to face the door once again. Critical words almost freed themselves from your lips, but you held them back, swallowed them down. “I’ll always be your friend.” 

Head storming, you commended yourself for keeping your voice level. The tears were able to recede - which relieved you, since you wanted to make it through the rest of the conversation with dry eyes. With one tiny head shake, you whispered, “Let’s get some sleep, okay? I don’t want us to ruin the rest of this trip. Like you said before, we have to make it the best one.” 

Seokjin got up and made his way over to you, and you turned around with a fresh face once you knew he was close enough. The smile he wore was manufactured, but you didn’t want to pry. Instead, you repeated your advice as you both approached his door. Because you wanted him to understand. “Seriously. Don’t give up, you hear me?” 

“Don’t give up,” he echoed as he pulled on the handle, like you were just giving him directions. He stilled for a moment in deep concentration before looking your way. Dark eyes bore into yours and you could almost hear them speak, but he gave one final nod and vowed, “Okay.” 

Little striations met you again when you gave Seokjin’s closed room one last look, and you swore they regarded you with pity. Finally breaking, you let your tears fall the whole way back to your floor, wishing to be made into a sturdy tree in your next life so you never had to feel that way again. 

The next morning found all nine friends situated in various places around Seokjin’s room. You thought it amusing that the boys never really settled for normal seats, always choosing a table or windowsill perch instead. As an avid fan of the floor yourself, apparently, you were once again plopped on the ground in front of the sofa. Only this time, you weren’t drowning in the depths of your past.  

“Looks like the snow piled up high last night, so we might not be able to use the cars,” Namjoon observed after his long fingers created a tiny crack in the curtains. His argyle sweater blended in with the burgundy fabric and the sight put a small smile on your face. 

The action surprised you since you spent the whole night swathed in a blanket of regret, your arms caging your ribs in an attempt to stopper your bleeding heart. If only you were so bold as to allow a confession to fall from your lips. Three words to solve two peoples’ problems.  

But the risk involved was too high. The hurt following an unrequited love confession would haunt you through every sunrise and sunset. 

Jungkook’s exasperated voice sliced through your thoughts. “What are we gonna do then?” You glanced at him right as he threw himself onto Seokjin’s bed, bouncing the other two occupants  like buoys amongst waves. 

“What we can do: stay in,” Yoongi responded while repositioning himself against the headboard. 

Taehyung’s sigh mingled with Rin’s tsking noise, Jungkook’s deeper groan almost in harmony with the both of them. Their melancholic concerto almost pulled a laugh out of you, but the next suggestion came from Hoseok, “I brought some board games we could play. Cards, too.” 

Seokjin quickly shot him a look. “You don’t play board games. Or games. Or cards. Actually, what do you do?” 

“I look after all of you.” Hoseok’s head always bobbed when he spoke to accentuate his points. “Hence why I brought board games and cards just in case!” 

You couldn’t refute the man’s claims, either. Hoseok always made sure everyone packed what they needed before trips but brought extra stuff in the event that the group needed something else. Helping was just part of his nature. Yesterday was one example. Rin got the snacks last night, but you were sure he would have woken up at any point in time to be your comfort food delivery man. If being a leader were a sport, Hoseok would be the dark horse that you never saw coming until they finished first. Then you couldn’t deny their talent and skill. 

Taehyung didn’t let the dark horse live, though. “Thanks, hyung. Did you pack a snowblower, too?” 

Rin’s laugh could always be heard amongst your friends, but not because she was a girl. Hers was just so distinct and heartwarming, like a cozy throw or the thought of cookies in the oven. It was only slightly better than Jimin’s. 

Speaking of which: Jimin was eerily quiet throughout the whole meeting, his gaze lingering on you more than once. You noticed it ever since you burst into Seokjin’s room and lauded the man’s scholastic advancement. Which couldn’t be helped. No matter how painful last night’s conversation was, you still wanted him to know how proud you were. After all, a person could be sporting a dagger through their heart but still have love to give.  

You didn’t know why Jimin was acting strange. The big secret was unveiled but you would come to terms with it. Was he afraid of how you would be feeling? Or was he just sympathizing with you because he assumed you weren’t exactly fine? Talking to him later to iron things out was going to be essential. The multiple glances he threw your way proved too much.  

“I have a pamphlet we can look through,” you responded, waving it in the air like a white flag. The decision to bring it just in case proved to be the right one, even if Rin threw a small fit from having to fumble through her bag for the room key again. Warmth from the thick hoodie swallowing both your body and your bent legs validated the first time you went back into your room. 

Rin stuck her tongue out at you but smiled right after in her best Sour Patch Kid impression. Cute. You breathily laughed before unfolding the flimsy paper. Shifting your eyes along the colorful pages, you started listing out the lodge activities. “Okay, so we have… Kayaking: no. Lake yoga: no. Mountain biking: no…” 

Even though the lodge boasted a huge amount of things to do, the majority of them required there to not be four billion inches of snow outside. Only a few remained, and majority rules determined ski slopes the winner. 

The only issue with the slopes was that they only allowed groups of three at a time. To remedy this, groups were formed and a rotation was set based on a heated tournament of rock-paper-scissors. And while Hoseok didn’t play board games, cards, or even video games, he seemed to be a pro at that. 

He picked Seokjin and Yoongi for his group, and they were going out first, to the eldest’s horror. You saw his anxiousness coming from miles out - tackling snow with one board was much more up his alley than tackling it with two. 

Next, Jungkook chose Namjoon and Jimin since he wanted to somehow “win” on the slopes. They gave him much grief for that. 

And that left you with Rin and Taehyung, but they wanted to check out the spa area first, so your group was going to catch up later. 

Which wasn’t ideal for you. You wanted to watch Seokjin ski. Or really, you just wanted to see him as much as possible before the trip ended. Seok in his presence, like he said. Maybe being pruny in this case was a beautiful thing. 

Room Service knocking on the door interrupted your thoughts, and Jimin let them in to serve the breakfast Seokjin ordered for everyone prior. While the dishes were distributed, the group was already firing bets and insults and digs at each other as if a clear winner would emerge outside. And you welcomed every bit of their energy. Chewing on food while basking in everyone’s competitive nature was enough of a distraction from your woes. At least, until you caught Jimin deep in thought again.

The spa was decent, so you three ended up staying for almost an hour. Both the sauna and facial massage served to ease the thick layer of tenseness under your skin. If only you could transport yourself into a cloud of steam every time you thought about Seokjin. Maybe that would’ve helped with the anxiousness and guilt you felt every time you thought about confessing. 

And you were grateful for Taehyung tagging along because he really did offer free hugs often. Even while Rin scanned over the receipt for everything you guys did, the man slung a lean arm around your shoulders. 

His voice glided over your hair when he leaned in to ask, “How did it go last night?” 

You sighed before responding, debating on how to answer him. You decided to take the easy route. “Good. Better than I expected. I just can’t believe it took him that long to tell me! I was so worried this whole time.” 

Taehyung squeezed you gently. “Finally. We kept telling him to just admit it already.” 

Rin was in the middle of paying when you smiled. Her hair gleamed in the incandescents, and you reached out to touch it as you admitted, “It’s just weird that he wanted to hide that from me.” 

“Well, you’re his ex, so he thought it would’ve been awkward.” 

A laugh shot out of you, and Taehyung gave you a look. “Seokjin’s so strange. He knows I’ve been rooting for him this whole time. I mean, Harvard? That’s incredible.” 

Normally, friends would converse about achievements and be sincerely happy about them. But something else happened in that moment that set alarm bells off in your head. Whether it was Rin becoming a block of ice in front of you, or Taehyung slowly peeling his arm off of your shoulders, you suddenly got a feeling that something wasn’t right.  

When Rin spun around to face you, the expression painted on her face reminded you of those Renaissance pieces you saw during one museum date with your ex. Her eyebrows artfully scrunched; her full lips twisted. Was she on the side of the angels, battling demons? Going to war? 

No, she was just trying to clarify something. “He didn’t say anything else?” 

You gulped. “I mean, yeah?”

“What did he say?” Taehyung furrowed his dark brows, his own face a work of art in itself. 

“That his parents are making him move back to Korea when he’s done with his doctorate,” you revealed, suspicious of the both of them and Seokjin now. You kept your tone level to hide any emotions under the surface. “Why, is there more?” 

Once again, you were swept under the wave of confusion. The waters there were dark and cold, and you felt like you couldn’t swim to safety this time. It was as if cotton clogged your ears and a thin film coated your vision. You didn’t even register Taehyung furiously typing on his phone while Rin led you all out of the spa’s reception area. 

“Do you want there to be more,” was all she offered before sitting you down on an earthly toned loveseat. The fluffy rug under your shoes snagged most of your attention. 

“I don’t know how to answer that, but I guess not,” you finally grunted, feeling angrier and angrier from being left in the dark again. Comparable to a disease, this dangerous feeling was taking over you, trickling into your veins drop by black drop. “Honestly, I kinda just want to go back to the room until we meet for dinner. Whatever you guys are hiding is starting to piss me off.” 

“Let’s go,” Rin agreed, urging you to get up and follow her to the room. But you shook her off. 

“I’ll go by myself.” Buzzing with anger, you shuffled through your bag to grip your key. “Just let me be alone for a bit.”

Taehyung looked absolutely livid, but he nodded along with Rin. You didn’t watch the two of them share a knowing glance as you drug your crumpling form to the stairs, hoping pieces of you didn’t crumble off before you reached your temporary bed.  

From the moment your tired bones hit your comforter, time traveled at a strange pace. You didn’t know how long you spent lying prone on the sheets, your head lolled towards the window. Watching the light snowfall outside did nothing to bring you out of your dark space. 

Being left out, confused, and feeling betrayed left you mentally drained. How long were you going to feel like this? Like you were just going to keep being lied to? Maybe you weren’t outwardly lied to, but omitting something was still considered a lie. The truth was still held captive and you couldn’t even pay it a visit. 

Rin and Taehyung reacted strongly to what you said. That had to mean whatever else Seokjin was supposed to say to you was big. You weren’t stupid. At least, that’s what you concluded. 

But what if you were this time? 

You loathed this feeling. You hated being looked at with pity. Even Rin knew what was left unsaid this time, so you were truly alone in the dark. 

A dark monster within you rose to life, and you ripped yourself from the sheets. Snatching your coat from the couch, you jerked your arms inside, striding toward your door with purpose. A ball of fury, you were determined to march up the slopes and confront Seokjin. Everything was getting ridiculous. 

Tugging the door open, you flinched at the figure waiting on the other side. A brief moment of silence and bewilderment and worry washed over you, quelling a small part of your harbored anger. “What happened to you?” 

Seokjin stood in front of you wrapped in his puffy coat, hair in disarray and a small gash on his cheek. His nose was red with the cold and a small cut, and his eyes looked as if he had been holding back tears. Tears? Was he crying? Even now, it seemed like a few were threatening to fall as his gaze lowered. A ghost of a voice wafted from his mouth as he replied, “Jimin.” 

You winced. Remembering the glances the younger man gave you this morning, you should have seen a conflict brewing. Your friend wasn’t lying when he said he’d give Seokjin hell. Something must have broken out when they were on the slopes, or anytime you weren’t there with them. “Shit. I’m sorry.” 

If you didn’t have that revelation with Rin and Taehyung, you would have been absolutely thrown by Seokjin’s appearance and the cause of it. But it seemed that both groups found out what he told you last night and neither were pleased with the result. What that result was, you couldn’t determine yet. But based on your own categories, “I got into Harvard” and “I’m moving back to Korea” fit in the Should Know box. The Deserved to Know box was still accepting applications. 

“Come in.” Your fury had to simmer on a proverbial stove for the time being. “I have a first aid kit in my bag.” 

You hurried him into the room before making a beeline for your duffle. The adrenaline built while you were fired up was still thrumming your bones like guitar strings. Nothing more was said as your bag crinkled with your rummaging, even though you wanted to just wring answers from his neck already. 

But you couldn’t. You needed a moment to collect your thoughts, both the past woes you were fighting and your current worries. 

As Jin awkwardly stood in front of your bed, you kept pondering. What the hell happened out there? How did it end up in a physical altercation? Did Jin fight back? It was already obvious Jimin initiated it, but you wondered if he sported any bruises, too. Not from Seokjin, though. Because you couldn’t ever see him throwing a punch. You were more curious about someone like Yoongi. The elder one was incredibly protective of Jin.

When you found the kit, you spun around to start tending to your ex’s face. “Bed,” you ordered, pointing towards yours with the first aid box. Your tone was harsh, but you weren’t holding it back.

The man was silent as he delicately sat on the comforter, and you instantly noticed how he refused to look at you still. 

No matter. Treating his cuts was a priority, but that didn’t mean you weren’t going to force him into confrontation right after. Seokjin wasn’t going to have a choice. 

Perching yourself next to him, you propped one leg up to steady yourself, clicking open the small kit next to you. It wasn’t as fancy as the one he carried along, but it housed the basics. Fetching some antiseptic and cotton first, you told him to turn towards you so that you could start. 

And despite your anger, your exasperation, your frustration, the hands you lifted to Seokjin’s face were nothing but calm. 

Throughout the time you dusted his cuts, you kept your gaze on his cheek, his mouth, his nose. A wall erected around you that you refused to take down. After all of the hurt Seokjin had caused, the turmoil he had put you through, it was pertinent you wouldn’t let him in. You had your soldiers’ arrows at the ready, directed right at his wounded face. 

But if you so much as flitted your gaze toward his eyes, your walls would crumble to dust. Your gates would slam open in surrender. 

Because having him this close to you after all this time was like coming home. And you harbored that feeling ever since the scent of his cologne consumed you. Your face hovered inches from his, your fingers gently pressing his features. All of the nights you yearned to be this close were so lonely and cold, and his warmth was tugging your heart by multiple strings. 

His looming absence was hitting you deeply then. If you gave in only to lose him again, the pain would surely hollow out your soul until you were a mere shell of yourself. You wanted nothing more than to sink into the mattress and slip down into the soil underneath the lodge. 

Suddenly, a hand cradled your cheek, and you shook on impact. Without thinking, you locked eyes with Jin, and it was then that you realized he was wiping hot tears from your face. 

“If I’m the reason for these,” he whispered, “I’m sorry.” 

Something strangled escaped you, and you finally caved. “You are,” you exhaled, unable to stop the tears from falling. “You really are.”

You tore yourself from the bed, instantly feeling the lingering warmth of his fingers fade. A chasm was created between you two: your chest heaving on one side and his face crumbling on the other. The mountain of thoughts and feelings you created broke down under pressure, emotions roaring down its slopes in a cathartic avalanche. “I’ve been looking like a fool this whole trip, and apparently everyone is feeling so fucking sorry for me. Why can’t you just tell me everything? What did Yoongi mean? What do I deserve to know? You told me you got into Harvard and have the audacity to say you aren’t happy? What the hell is that about? We’re supposed to be friends, so why am I feeling like you’re letting that all go?” You choked on your tears and clasped a hand over your mouth, a burn blossoming in your chest from the dry sobs. 

Seokjin’s eyes ringed with a burgeoning shade of pink, both of his pupils glossed in guilt. “I’m not… I’m not letting that go, but--”

“But what, Seokjin,” you gritted out, “Please stop and just tell me already.” 

“But I was too scared,” he admitted, “I’m still scared.” 

“Why are you scared?” The question drifted to his face, and you could tell he was struggling to answer even that one. It pained you to be this close yet so far from the answer.

“Why are you scared, Seokjin,” you whispered again, realizing that his hands were shaking. 

“Because…” You watched as he clenched them on his thighs, and he struggled to get the words out. “Because it’s going to happen again.” 

Enough with the obscurity. Frustration reached a boiling point. “What’s going to happen again?” 

“Exactly what happened last time!” Seokjin declared as his eyes pleaded with you, eyebrows furrowed and kneeling in anguish. The skin encasing his watery eyes remained that same dusty shade of affliction. 

You couldn’t for the life of you understand what he was saying, until you remembered last night. When you asked him about the time he loved before. 

Wait.

Your hand made a slow descent from your face as you matched Seokjin’s stare. A million words skittered across your eyes, transforming into liquid and sliding down your skin. You were sure you looked an absolute wreck with your tear-stained cheeks and reddened nose, but that didn’t concern you at all. The only thing you could hang onto was Jin’s words, just short of a confession. 

But you had to be sure. You weren’t settling for five words that could mean a thousand other things while arranged the same way. “The one from before,” you more stated than questioned, “Where is she now.” 

Seokjin never broke his gaze, doing an incredible job of keeping tears at the edges of his eyes. Heavy breaths caused his chest to swell with each pass. Voice low, he finally, finally caved, “She’s the one on the polaroid I have in my room.” 

The entire conversation from last night struck you like a freight train. So many realizations hit you at once and you didn’t know how your trembling legs were keeping you upright. 

It was you. He was talking about you. 

Your coat smothered your limbs like a cage, your whole being rattling inside like an animal starved. 

That was what he was truly hiding from you. That was what he had buried deep down into his chest. And you couldn’t blame him one bit after you realized it was exactly what you were holding from him, too. 

No matter the reason, you still kept your own truth hidden. It occurred to you then that you couldn’t be angry - that would just be hypocrisy. There was bravery in confession, and even more so to someone you no longer were allowed to feel that way about. 

You were the one that forced the truth out of Seokjin, and now you only felt like a coward. 

Movement in front of you snapped your vision back into focus. He was getting up to leave. Why was he leaving? 

“I knew this would happen,” he said, his voice strained. “I’ll go. I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable.” 

Oh. He assumed your silence was from guilt. Guilt that you didn’t feel the same. And he was about to walk out with that egregious misconception. What an absolute fool.

But no matter how hard you tried, the words wouldn’t budge from the back of your teeth. 

You had two choices here. One, you told him. You laid everything out and you admitted that you felt the same. Then tomorrow, he would leave your life and you may not see him again for years. And you tried this before - being in two separate schools and living different lives while holding onto your relationship. It obviously didn’t work last time, and you still saw him from time to time. This situation would be a thousand times harder. 

Which brought you to the second option: you let him go. You let him leave without telling him how you felt. Rip the bandage off right there and then. Leave him to pursue his dream, and with that the freedom to go and find someone else to love. Was that what you wanted? Was this your own sick version of loving him? All the villains in the universe would applaud you as you lied to his face while telling him not to give up. How fucking cruel would that be?

“Seokjin,” you called out, and your chest subtly heaved when he turned to stone by the door. His broad back remained still as you took a step towards him, and only after you roamed your eyes over his shoulders did you notice small movements. But he didn’t face you. It was almost as if he didn’t want to.

Agony consumed your entire being as you made your decision. 

You shut your eyes, clenched your jittering fingers into hard fists. 

“See you at the campfire,” you whispered, your voice unfamiliar even to yourself. 

The only response you got was the soft opening and closing of your door.

Compared to last night’s lion of a snow storm, tonight was but a mere cub. There were small flakes here and there taking their time to descend, and the fixtures from inside the lodge were the only light source beside the fire pit you were approaching downstairs. 

Situated in the center of your friends, the flames danced across their jovial smiles as they passed bottles around. The drinks weren’t the lodge’s, but the ones you all brought and snuck out of the rooms - the telltale green glass was enough of a hint. 

After Seokjin left, it took you a couple minutes to let everything out, and about thirty minutes crying into Rin’s shoulder once she witnessed your crumpled form on the floor. She listened to your recap of the conversation and Jin’s final secret, and through broken sobs you told her you couldn’t tell him yours. When she asked why, you told her your reasoning. When she called you an idiot, you wholeheartedly agreed and cried even harder. 

But you still stuck with your decision. It was for the best. You loved him so much that you wanted what was best for him, and that was to let you go. 

“Promise me one thing,” Rin murmured, earning a nod from you. “Only go through with it if you know you won’t regret it.” 

A sharp pain sliced through you then, but you acquiesced. “I won’t.” 

She then grabbed your Polaroid from the bed. It was Namjoon’s idea to bring it to the campfire once he heard you brought it on the trip. “Are you okay with this?” 

“Yeah,” you gulped, regarding the old piece of the past with heavy eyes. Seokjin confessed to you with the help of that camera. You weren’t okay with the mere idea of touching it. “Yeah, it’s fine. I want everyone to enjoy themselves tonight, so. Yes.” 

Even if that meant you suffered. This was Seokjin’s last trip with everyone, not just you. Why keep them from making good memories just because you were a walking dark cloud?

You reached the bottom of the rickety stairs, the squeaky noises catching the attention of the boys. Most of them raised their bottles to you, but you caught Jin staring at the fire instead. 

If you got through this night in one piece, it would be a miracle.

Namjoon stood as you and Rin settled into your seats. “Okay. Since we’re all here now, I say we start.” 

As everyone gave their cheers, the eldest just looked confused. “Start what?”

“Something for you,” Yoongi explained, his body already comfortable in his Adirondack. “Since you aren’t joining us for these anymore.”

“Ah, yah,” Seokjin protested, “You don’t need to do anything—”

“Don’t lie, you already love this,” Jimin cut in, all smiles despite the companion bruises and cuts on his face to Jin’s. “Although, your opinion may change in a second.”

Jungkook paused his leg bouncing to shout, “Let hyung explain!” 

You smiled as the group settled, but noticed that Jimin was looking at you strangely. You didn’t have time to process it, though, since Namjoon headed things off while a bottle rested against his chest, “Jin-hyung. We just want you to know that we’re proud of you. Even though we may not see you for awhile, you’ll be in our hearts and on our minds. Starting tomorrow, you’re already Dr. Kim to us, so I say we all call you by name tonight.”

Laughter and claps filled the air, drowning out Seokjin’s weak protests. 

Namjoon cleared his throat to calm the air, and you watched small flakes catch in his hair as he continued, “We’ll each do two things: give you advice, and ask for advice. Since you’re clearly educated, we figured you’d have a lot to say.”

“Oh, I’m just lucky.” 

“And keep sharp, everyone. Miss Photographer over there will be taking pictures.” Namjoon nodded at you, and you gave a short smile while holding up the Polaroid. You were fine doing this; behind the lens was your safe space. 

The boys and Rin slowly got through their questions and advice, and you were shocked by how insightful Seokjin was being. You never truly realized the magnitude of his intelligence. Every person around the campfire hung on his every word, and it didn’t help that you all took a swig after every good point he made - many, many times. You diligently fired away on your camera, making sure to get Seokjin with everyone so they could all have a moment captured with him. 

When Jimin’s turn came, he shot you a glance before looking at your ex. “Jin. That sounds weird to say. Jin-hyung.” He looked at the ground before continuing, and you knew it was to compose himself. “My advice to you… Sorry,” he buried his head in his elbow for a brief moment. Yoongi looked away. 

“I kinda gave you advice already,” Jimin trudged on, “And you took it. So, my next piece of advice would be to, uh, keep going.” 

You were rooted to your chair. Seokjin didn’t spare you a single glance during that exchange, but you knew it was about you. It had to be how he ended up at your door earlier. He even said Jimin was the one responsible for his wounds. 

“Thank you, Jimin,” Jin replied. “As for my advice to you, it’s okay to let people figure things out on their own. You don’t have to put it on yourself to be the one that keeps people together. If something ends up breaking, you’re going to think it’s your fault.” 

Jimin regarded him with watery eyes before nodding and wiping his freezing tears. And when he looked your way, he saw you only looking at Seokjin. Your face was slowly cracking, and the shadows in your facade were exacerbated by the flames. 

It was your turn; everyone else went. The Polaroid felt like a boulder on your thighs.

You blinked before setting the camera down and clutching your bottle. Since Seokjin was on the other side of the fire, you had to stand to see him, your tenseness on full display. 

What could you possibly say in that moment that he wanted to hear? That he was willing to listen to? You were certain you took his heart and slammed it into the ground earlier. It would be better if you just didn’t say anything. 

“Seokjin,” you started, pausing to collect yourself. “My advice to you is to forget the advice I gave you before.” 

Several pairs of eyes looked at you then. Even Jin finally regarded you, the most aware of what you were referring to.

“What I’m trying to say is: it’s okay to give up sometimes, because not everything that you want to happen is going to happen. There will be times you will just have to let things go. And that’s okay. Because maybe letting things go would end up for the best.” 

Jimin’s eyes bore into your soul. He sat so still that it put all the statues throughout history to shame. 

Seokjin grabbed his bottle with both hands, elbows resting on his knees. “Interesting advice.” His eyes danced as they took in the warm flames. “I might even follow it.” 

Both of your lungs threatened to give out at his words. Your hands almost dropped the glass you were barely clinging to, but you never looked away from Jin. It was as if your attention was chained to his body, your soul weighed down by his earlier confession and now his possible break. 

If he followed your advice, shouldn’t you be happy? It’s what you wanted in the end, right? You would let him go, and he wouldn’t look back. 

Snow drifted onto everyone’s chairs and the fire crackled in front of you. A small breath left you in a wisp of white. Warmth did its best to help you, but the cold was too strong. No amount of fire in the world could melt your icy conscience - you truly left Seokjin in the dark. He practically admitted that he loved you, and in return you gave him nothing. Of course he would consider your advice.  

“But I like the sound of not giving up. It has a ring to it that exists beyond the sound it makes when someone says it,” he cut himself off, the silence deafening. Inside, bells rang in your head. What was he implying? Seokjin’s voice was as clear as blue skies when he continued, “So, I guess I’m stealing your advice and giving it to everyone here.” 

Your gaze shifted to the side as everyone turned towards Seokjin. This was something you weren’t prepared to digest. Settling back down into your chair, you tried to even out your breathing and neutralize your shaking fingers. 

Your feelings were warring with each other in a confusing battle. If you wanted him to follow your advice, why were you relieved when he said he liked not giving up? Did that mean you hoped he still waited for you? Years and years and years from now? 

“Take it from me: don’t give up,” he advised. “But what I mean by that is to not give up until you’re happy.” 

Guilt squeezed your eyes shut, clamping your lids down. He was going to wait. Love was the one thing he wanted to be happy. And you held your love for him tightly in your hands, behind your back and hidden from sight. 

But even still, in the midst of your silent rejection, this man wasn’t letting go. Without saying the words, Seokjin was going to wait for you. Because he still loved you. 

This was too hard. 

“To being happy,” Jimin boisterously cheered, startling everyone and causing your bones to rattle. His glass remained high in the air, and everyone joined in with their own proclamations. 

“To being happy,” you whispered alongside the others, quickly taking a swig.

Yoongi was the next one to pipe up as he declared, “Okay, now that all that’s done, let’s just drink for fuck’s sake.” 

Amongst the laughter and “thank god”s thrown about, you quickly downed the rest of your drink like it was your lifeline. You needed more than liquid courage to get through the rest of the night. The camera by your feet was snatched up by Jungkook before Taehyung could get to it, and you prayed to every higher power that they kept it in one piece. 

As everyone made their way back to their rooms, you noticed Seokjin joking and laughing with the others like normal. It was a continuation of the rest of the night, since after the advice conversation it was nothing but fun. Your Polaroid almost ran out of film, for one, but watching everyone fight over the photos was entertainment in itself. There were digs toward Jin until he turned red, jabs thrown at Jimin’s fragile emotional state, and Rin’s warm laughter coating everything in a soft glow. 

And it was a bittersweet event. There was nothing more you wanted than to capture that moment and place it in a snowglobe. The world wouldn’t interfere with your friends, and none of you would ever leave. 

Seokjin was about to head up the stairs to tuck in for the night. Full of soju and stupidity, you blurted, “Leaving already?” 

He stilled before turning toward you. “Oh. Yeah.” He regarded you with a look you couldn’t completely decipher. “Long day tomorrow.” 

“Right,” you replied, hating the sudden hollowness you felt. Or didn’t feel. 

“Well… Good night.” Seokjin tapped the banister twice before heading up, and you softly wished him good night before speedwalking to your room. You were only tipsy, so the fast trip didn’t bother you. The camera in your hands kept your center balanced the whole way back.

By some strange miracle, you kept it together the whole time after everyone’s campfire speeches. You imagined yourself as an ice sculpture, surrounded by the guests of honor. Everyone gave you a glance and thought nothing else of you. They could only see composure and poise. Only when they got closer could they see you slowly melting, rivulets of remorse cascading down your entire frame.

Rin was in the middle of her skincare routine when you entered your room. As soon as she heard your footsteps, she made a noise indicating she had something to say. The product around her mouth didn’t let her yet, though. Which meant you had to wait. 

You stood in the doorframe of the bathroom, vision spinning just a smidge. This was probably a talk you didn’t want to have, but you gave your friend her podium. It was only fair. Her serious talks were few and far between. 

But she didn’t have much to say when she finished getting ready for bed. In fact, she only said three sentences. 

“It’s 11 o’clock,” she stated plainly, her tone indicating she was done with the calmer approach. Bluntness was more her style. 

“Okay?” 

“We leave at 7 in the morning.” 

“And?” 

“It means you have eight hours to decide how you’re going to feel for the next ten years.” 

Silence. 

All you could respond with was silence. 

Dead air. Sober. You were sober now. In that moment, you may have held your breath for a century. Too many thoughts flooded your brain, from past memories at a carnival to future images of an empty apartment with a bed fit for one. 

It was stark. Blank. There wasn’t going to be a future with Seokjin, no matter what you said. 

But when Rin put it that way, would you feel better if he knew the truth? Or would you keep this idiotic stance and lock your feelings away forever? 

For the third time that night, your fingers rattled. Rin took them into her comforting palms. 

“Go,” she murmured, and she smiled as she witnessed you burst into the hall. 

Your strides were incredibly long as you hurried down the corridor. The doors blurred on either side of your vision, the pattern of the floor elongated with your fast pace. Your camera thudded into your chest over and over. Step after step after step got faster and faster as your anxiousness bubbled into your brain. The last turn before the stairs made you skid, and you rushed up the rickety steps. Your heart was thrumming, scratching at your chest to set it free. 

When you got to his door, you were certain you woke sleeping neighbors with your rapid knocking. But you couldn’t stop yourself. Nothing could possibly stop you now.

You had no plan. There wasn’t time to think. All you wanted was to see him. All you could think about was letting everything out. Eight hours. You had eight hours.

Seokjin tugged the door open, pausing mid-swing when he saw your face. He looked so beautiful. Full of warmth. Like home.

“Jinnie.” 

You didn’t mean to call him that, but you didn’t take it back. You weren’t taking anything back anymore. His eyes roamed over your features multiple times, searching for any indication that this was a dream. But it wasn’t. The words finally slipped from your lips. 

“I’m not following your advice. Or my own.” 

His eyebrows furrowed, but you pushed on. 

“I’m giving up. But I’m giving up because I can’t let you go.” When Seokjin stared at you, it was impossible to look away. 

His response came out in a rush, “What are you… what are you saying?”

“I’m saying I love you.” You huffed out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “Damn it, I— I just love you. I love you so much it hurts.” 

A shaky exhale left you at the look on his face. The quick descent into realization formed in the corners of his eyes, tears pooled at the edges before quickly streaming down his cheeks, collecting at the crux of his chin. Glassy orbs bore straight into your soul in search of answers, of truth. And if he wanted those answers, you already admitted the biggest one, so words were easier to come by.

“I’ve felt this way ever since our trip last year,” you started, slowly inching toward the wreck of a man. Not like you fared any better with the streaks forming on your own cheeks. “And I know it’s the stupidest thing to tell you now since you’re leaving, and we failed at long distance before, but--” 

Seokjin breathed out your name, and his next words would stay imprinted in your mind forever. “I still want to try. And I’ll try as many times as you’ll let me.” 

“I know. I know that now,” you whispered. 

Passion and warmth bloomed in your chest, spiraling out into the far reaches of your limbs. Hundreds of nights imagining him accepting you again didn’t prepare you for this feeling. Nothing was holding you back; your walls came crashing down. 

You finally broke and shielded your face in your hands, and you felt sturdy arms shield you from the world. The cruel, beautiful world that brought you two together right before he disappeared from your life again. You cried, and sobbed, and wheezed. The elation from his confession only magnified the pain of his departure. 

You felt the weight of the Polaroid leave your chest as Seokjin lifted it from your neck. “Come inside,” Seokjin whispered into your hair, earning a hiccup from your chest. “Please.” 

It was only then that you noticed you were still out in the hall. A small nod from you was all he needed to guide you into his room, and your throat constricted at the bags lying open on the bed. 

Seokjin was already packing. Packing while thinking he was going to go through the same thing he went through last time. You felt absolutely sick. How could you even think of doing this to him? If there was a way to make it all up to him, you would do it. “I didn’t want to tell you before,” you confessed, burying your nose into his chest. “But that was wrong of me. You almost left without knowing. I’m so sorry.” 

Strong, lean fingers traveled through your hair as your camera was placed on a table. The heavy clunk it made reached your ears, and a whisper followed. “I didn’t want to tell you, either. You don’t need to apologize.” 

“If I told you earlier, we would’ve had more time. Now I’m just sad.”  

“Look at me.” Jin caressed the back of your head, naturally lifting your gaze. His watery eyes took yours in, and he leaned forward to kiss the top of your hair. “We still have tonight, so if we’re going to be sad, let’s wait until after.” 

“But you’re crying, too,” you observed, feeling slightly better from his words. How Seokjin was able to have that effect on you, you would never understand. 

A light huff from him made you melt. “That’s because I’m so happy,” he confessed, softly laughing again and wiping his eyes with both hands. 

He was happy. Seokjin was happy. You looked at the growing smile under his fingers, and you had no choice but to grin and join in his laughter. 

Not because it was funny. But because it was unbelievable. You were able to gift him the last piece he was missing - he was finally able to find that happiness. How were you about to deny that from him? Now it seemed unfathomable.

When you looked at his hands again, you noticed there were lingering cuts. Worry washing over you, you cradled one in your palms and asked as Seokjin looked at you, “Should I take care of this, too?” Though the man had more than enough knowledge on playground injury care, you still offered because you wanted to be there for him in any possible way.

He replied instantly, “I took care of everything. Jimin, too. You saw him being his usual self earlier.” 

“He said he’d give you hell if you didn’t talk to me on this trip. I didn’t think he would go this far, though.” You reached up to run a thumb along the small gash on Seokjin’s cheek, the blood drying into a deep red. “I’ll make him regret it later.” 

Jin leaned into your touch, causing sparks in your skin. “Don’t,” he whispered, “He’s the reason I ended up at your door.” 

You just nodded and lost yourself in the feel of his soft face. It was incredibly smooth under your fingers, even better than when you held his cheeks all those years ago. To think that this man loved you ever since then, and continued to do so until now, was unbelievable. But it was true, and no amount of words could account for how you felt about that. 

Those eyes overflowing with adoration and affection were solely for you, and diving into them felt like being immersed in sunlit waters. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

The simple question took you by surprise, but you gazed at his lips. They only looked inviting, so who were you to deny him? “Please,” you sighed, and your eyelids closed shut at his pillowy touch. 

Color sprang from your heart at his confession, but heat burst from your chest at his kiss. The moment his lips met yours, every worry wrapped around your conscience snapped in two. Vines of doubt, regret, and anxiety withered under the warmth of Seokjin’s touch. It was cleansing. Powerful. Searing. 

A hand captured the back of your neck, and Jin took advantage of your gasp by dragging his tongue around the edge of your lips, a wordless plea to let him in. You gave in immediately, leaning forward and deepening the kiss, roping his tongue and eliciting a groan. 

Heat rushed between your legs and you echoed his sound with a soft moan of your own. Unwittingly, your hands found their way to Seokjin’s chest and you reveled in the feel of him under the thin material of his shirt. Without breaking your lips from his, you skirted the cotton hem with your fingers.  

Jin knew what you wanted, and his grin against your mouth only made you flush with desire. He broke from your lips to fully remove his shirt, and seeing his bare chest wiped the air from your lungs. You could only stare as you took in the lines of his solid build, wondering how the hell he had the time to achieve that look. 

Seokjin smirked at your reaction, tossing his top and hauling the bags off his bed while you were taking time to process everything. “Do I need to charge you?” 

You shook your empty head like a zombie. Your brain was currently mush, purely focused on the way his muscles rippled and slid against the confines of his skin. “No, don’t. I didn’t bring any money with me.” 

Laughter erupted from the other side of the bed. After Seokjin placed the last bag on the floor, he straightened and clarified, “I meant plug you in. You seem to be buffering over there. Low battery?”

“Shut up and get on the bed,” you teased, shrugging off the coat you still had on. You didn’t even get to change since coming in from the campfire. 

“Shut up and get on the bed, yes,” Seokjin fired back mercilessly as he sat on the comforter. He knew exactly how to push you. Even though you laughed, you made you way over to him and stood between his legs. 

You were silent then. No matter how happy you were, his departure tomorrow was weighing on you. The time you had with him was short. 

You wanted to make the most of it. Bringing your hand up to his face, you made sure to lightly skim over his gashes before mapping the rest. You wanted to ingrain every curve, every dip, every feature into memory. Every second was precious. The polaroid you had of him would still be no match for the real thing. If only you could capture the warmth of someone and keep it frozen in time.

Sure fingers clasped your hand, and Seokjin softly pulled you closer. Your first instinct was to rush in and hug him for dear life, and he immediately did the same to you, snatching the breath from your lungs and tugging tears from your ducts. You buried your face into his neck, inhaling his familiar scent and lamenting all the time you spent worrying over the smallest things. 

“We don’t have a lot of time,” Seokjin whispered, squeezing your heart. 

“I know,” you choked. You didn’t have much else to say.

“I just want to make sure we use it to do what you want.” 

You loosened your hold on him, astonished by his consideration. The growing bulge under his pants was more than screaming his wants. You felt it ever since the first kiss. But even still, he wanted to accommodate you. Your needs before his. 

It just made you fall for him even more. 

Reaching down to skim your fingers along his cock straining against his pants, you hovered your lips over his neck. “I want you,” you whispered before descending upon the smooth expanse of skin and earning a groan. 

Without warning, Seokjin tightened his arms around you. In one smooth motion, he effortlessly lifted you to straddle his thighs. You didn’t have time to think as he followed up with grabbing your head, pulling you down for another heated kiss. Your fingers latched onto his shoulders, scraping them when he thrust his tongue into your mouth. 

“Don’t do that yet,” he grunted, and you didn’t need to ask why after feeling a twitch in his jeans. 

You obeyed for the time being, cupping his neck with both hands. When you rolled your body against his, the hard feel of his stomach made you whimper. It was when you settled back on his hardness that your eyes widened. You were sure he was aching despite his silence. Maybe you could help him out a bit. “Jinnie,” you whispered, a firm hand on his chest, “Lie back for me.” 

“I love hearing that again,” Seokjin admitted through a content smile, starting a fire across your cheeks. He leaned back after giving you another peck, and you plucked yourself from his thighs to take your shoes off. 

But time was your biggest motivator to strip most of your clothes at that moment - not just your boots. Your pants were first, followed by your sweater, and finally your shirt. The whole time, Seokjin stayed propped on his elbows, watching you intently. He couldn’t hide the adoration in his eyes even if he tried. As he watched you stand there in nothing but your set, he smiled. “You’re beautiful.” 

“Thank you,” you whispered in return. “Still not as great as you, though.” You started unbuttoning his jeans before he could defend his stance, and he lifted his lower body to help you shrug them off with his underwear. When Seokjin’s thick cock sprung free, your heart jumped at the sight. It had been so long since you felt it, tasted it, rode it. Was he thinking the same? Taking his velvety length in your hand for the first time in a long time, you felt a burst of confidence at its familiarity and his response.

“Baby,” he groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Please.” 

You didn’t need another word. At the sound of the familiar pet name, you already started hovering over his cock, admiring how pretty it was before diving in. Licking around the head, you used the slick to glide your mouth far down his shaft, rolling your hand along the bottom to coat the rest. 

Seokjin jolted at the sudden pleasure, and you felt a pang in your heart. You wanted him to remember this night. And you were much more experienced than you were before, though you would only get so much time to prove your growth. 

Coming up for air, you used your hand to gather the rest of your spit and slide it down his cock, rubbing it a few times before diving down again. The stilted, garbled noises coming from your filled mouth were even getting your own underwear soaked, but they weren’t a match for Seokjin’s. His delicious grunts and moans sent you close to the edge. They were deeper than you remembered, and he wasn’t one to shy away from showing you how turned on and pleasured he was feeling.

The prominent veins of his cock were the roads along which your tongue traveled, and you made sure to love them all in between stuffing him fully in your warm mouth. He was so big, but you wanted to take every inch, tears welling in your eyes with your efforts. 

You fought through even when you felt him rock the back of your throat. Seokjin took that moment to sit up, causing tears to leak fully down your cheeks at the deeper thrust. His hands dove into your hair, but he didn’t force your head down. Instead, they tugged you off his cock, and he gazed down lovingly at your wrecked expression. Jin’s voice dipped an octave and came out coated in sin as he asked, “Can you go a little more for me, beautiful?” 

Your body tingled on instinct. You nodded and, when he smiled, you gripped his drenched dick in your fingers before descending your mouth onto his balls. Seokjin bucked his hips forward in a jolt as you grinned, lapping at his salty skin and delighting in the tremulous groans rolling down your back. Your hand squeezed the tip of his shaft before you straightened again, taking his cock captive without pause.

“Shit,” he grunted, his long fingers diving into your hair. His hands still didn’t push you down further, oddly, so you took the initiative and plunged down yourself. 

The feel of his cock in your mouth was so familiar. It was almost second nature how easily you sucked him off, knowing when to hollow your cheeks and pull him further down the abyss of ecstasy. When to sink further and hum, ripping a delicious sound from his throat. Even when to bob and swirl your head around, effectively shutting down his ability to function. 

It was then that you chose to really bring it home. You breathed through your nose as you took more and more of him in, even after you couldn’t breathe anymore. You felt your nose hit this pubic bone, and the long moan you got from Seokjin was worth the burn in your throat. His fingers tightened around your head, but when you came up gasping for air he didn’t stop you. 

“Come here,” is all he said, tugging you up to straddle him again. A trail of saliva swung from your lips as you came up, but you paid it no mind. If anything, it added to the building lust inside your bones. Your panties were absolutely drenched by now, so dragging your core along Seokjin’s cock caused both of you to twinge. “Fuck,” he gasped, fueling your heat. 

“Jinnie, please,” you whimpered, your voice hoarse. You wanted everything from him at once. You were getting impatient, and the overwhelming time pressure was stressing you the hell out. “I need you, please.” 

Suddenly, everything stopped as Seokjin cradled your chin and swiped the spit from your lips. “You have me,” he assured you. “You have all of me.” He kissed your nose. “And you’ll have me for a very long time.” 

Relenting, you leaned into his touch. “Now is what I’m concerned about.” 

“I know,” he agreed before kissing you again. “I just wanted you to know the rest.” 

“Okay,” you whispered before capturing his full lips with your own. When you felt him wrapping his arms around you, your heart leaped into your throat. When you felt him shift the both of you to lower you onto the bed, you already knew fresh tears were waiting behind your eyes. 

With great care, Jin slipped your underwear off your smooth legs. Your bra was deftly unhooked next - not without an eyebrow raise from you and a wink from him - and tossed from the bed. 

Staring at your naked form, Seokjin appeared completely lost in thought. It got to the point where you felt like covering yourself, but when you attempted to he swiftly denied any insecurity. “Don’t keep this from me,” he whispered. “I want to remember everything.” 

You kept it together until then. Something in you broke and you softly choked on a cry. So he was thinking the same as you. This was the last night for a long time. 

Starting from your shoulder, he kissed his way down along your neck, your collarbone, your chest. Taking one breast in one hand, he swirled his tongue around the nipple of the other. You gasped from the sudden burst of pleasure, which made Seokjin repeat the motion on the other side. He then lightly sucked on the nipple, releasing it with a small pop. 

You wanted to close your eyes and lose yourself in the waves of pleasure he was giving you, making his way down your body. But you wanted to relive this night again and again. So you had to keep your eyes on him. Only him. His mouth’s searing heat as it kissed along your stomach, and the stark cold left behind when he moved on. His soft touch as he gently pried your legs open, and dark, lust-filled eyes as he stared at your dripping entrance. You wanted to remember the way he kissed along your legs, nipping in some places to make you gasp. The way his beautiful lips connected with your heat in a reverent kiss before his tongue explored inside. Each flick of his tongue, squeeze of his fingers on your legs, noise from his lips. How you loved him through every second of him worshipping you. 

As soon as he brought his fingers up to caress your folds while sucking on your clit, you had to stop him. It was too much. You wanted to feel him when you broke. 

Seokjin wordlessly obeyed as he crawled above you. You pulled him down for a kiss, not caring how he tasted. Your hands then went to his shoulders as he positioned himself at your entrance. 

“Are you still…” 

“Yes,” you nodded, touched that he remembered. “I’m still on it.” 

“Okay.” He swooped down to capture your lips, and when you clenched your fingers around his shoulders, he grunted. “Are you okay to take it all?” 

“Go slow. For now,” you said, earning a nod. “It’s been awhile.”

Seokjin’s gaze was heavy as he prepared himself. “Same.” 

At the initial push, you whooshed out a gasp. It had been way too long since you’d been with someone. The intrusion indeed hurt. Maybe you should have let him prep you more, in hindsight. But Seokjin was nothing but tender as he waited for you to adjust. Once you were okay, he steadily pushed out and in again, going deeper. Slowly but surely, you were able to fully take him in. 

And the feel of him completely inside you was nothing like you’ve felt before. It was comfort. It was home. It was a perfect fit, and you wanted to stay like that forever. 

“God,” Seokjin groaned, “I don’t want to leave this room.” 

You chuckled, rolling your hips. “Hmm, pussy or Harvard. That’s a pretty tough one.” 

“If it’s yours, Harvard can wait,” Seokjin grunted before sending your thoughts spiraling with a huge thrust. You outright whined at him, but he pulled out only to spear you again with one long motion. “You still like it rough, baby?” 

Chills cascaded down your spine and pooled at the apex of your toes. This was the Seokjin you were waiting for. You wondered if he was still into that after witnessing everything he was doing for you beforehand. But oh, were you ready for the pivot. “Fuck, yes,” you moaned. “You know I do.” 

“You still have your word?” 

“Carousel, yes.” 

“Good girl.” That was all Seokjin needed. Grabbing the top of the headboard behind you, he launched into a rough and relentless pace that had you seeing stars. You felt so full, yet so weightless as you let your body go limp. The feel of Seokjin’s cock slamming into you repeatedly would continue to exist for months after tonight, the ridges of it sliding along your walls never forgotten entirely. You needed as much as he could give, and he knew that. 

Gripping one of your legs, he hauled it over his sweat-slicked shoulder and tilted himself to reach a deeper position, twisting his reddened face to plant kisses on your ankle. Mewl after mewl tumbled from your lips at the deep thrusts. 

“Touch yourself for me, baby,” Jin commanded while still pounding into you, and you wouldn’t dream of disobeying. Your fingers went straight for your jiggling breasts, teasing your nipples and tugging them for his blown out eyes. You moaned, and smirked when you saw Seokjin beginning to lose himself. 

His tell was his scrunched eyebrows, and his eyes shifting down to watch his cock ram into your tight cunt. You still knew, after years. 

You fell into complete ecstasy when he reached down with his free hand to rub your clit between your bodies, loving the way the veins in his arms protruded. Imagining licking along them all made you moan. And you didn’t care if the people around you heard. All of your mewls, moans, whines - they were all for Jin. He could have all of you again and again.  

After one particularly deep thrust, he tugged his cock out, leaving your walls fluttering around an agonizing emptiness. “Turn around. On your knees.” 

“Holy fuck, yes,” you rasped. He wasn’t letting the night go to waste at all. 

Before you even assumed the next position, you felt a hand come down on your ass. The smack jolted you forward in pain, with pleasure settling in its wake. 

“So pretty,” Seokjin whispered, ghosting his hand over the spot he spanked. He gave it another smack before gripping your ass cheeks apart. You assumed he was roving his eyes over your drenched core. “And still so wet.” 

“Just for you,” you affirmed. 

“Just for me,” he repeated before adjusting his knees on the bed to get closer. “But you might be too loud tonight, baby. I’m going to need silence from you this time.” 

Shit. You were never, ever good at this part. But you nodded. What you weren’t expecting right away was the initial stroke to be rough, right down to the hilt. You cried out immediately, earning you a harsh spank. 

Seokjin’s sudden laugh made you chuckle in embarrassment. He breathily joked, “Out of practice?” 

“Something like that,” you admitted, your elbows and grin lost in the sheets. “I’m rusty.” 

“Okay, let’s just do this then.” Jin leaned forward, stretching over you. You groaned at the feel of his solid chest on your soft back, your eyes rolling into your head feeling him completely mold into you for a moment. He got a fluffy pillow from the other side of the bed and let your head rest on it. “Can you bite this for me, my love?” 

The new name spread wildfire across your face. “Yes. That I can do,” you assured him. When you had the material securely in your mouth, you nodded to signal he could continue. 

“Good girl.” And continue Seokjin did. He went right back into the dominant Jin he loved being, and the one you loved being with. There was no mercy in his thrusts, stroke after stroke after stroke. If you lifted your back a little or lowered your butt, he smacked your supple flesh and corrected you instantly. “Ass up, baby.” 

With Jin’s relentless pace, your body went limp and hung on by a thread. Loosening up allowed for even more of his cock, and your muffled moans started getting louder the closer and closer you got to the edge. You could feel your core tightening, threatening to unleash the pent up tension. 

“That’s it, beautiful,” Seokjin praised, feeling your walls squeeze around him. “Do you want to come like this?”

You hastily shook your head. You wanted to see him when you came. And if you remembered correctly, he loved seeing your face when it happened, as well.

“Too bad,” he chuckled darkly, and you almost came undone right then. “Guess you’ll have to come again the way you want to later.” Reaching under you, he toyed with your clit as he kept the pace from behind. 

You let go of the pillowcase as you kicked your head back in a moan, your saliva trail slowly gravitating toward the sheets. Seokjin only let you breathe for a second before pushing your head back down into the thin material. “Make noise again and you won’t come at all.”

Fuck. You bit hard into the pillow, tears forming at the corners of your eyes as you felt yourself losing control. His fingers felt divine on your bundle of nerves, his dick sliding through your folds over and over and over. The hand he placed on your head smoothed over your hair before bunching it and tugging. You reared back, dots swimming in your vision. “God, I want to choke you. Can I do that, my love?” 

You released the pillow from your mouth again. His consideration was top notch tonight. Too much? You couldn’t decide or really care. “Yes, just do it. Do anything. Please. I’m so close.” 

“Mm. Then cover your mouth.” Before you could follow his command, Seokjin pulled you up by a shoulder to be flush against his front. Sweat coated your back and your ass, causing you to slide down his chiseled stomach while speared on his cock. A strong hand wrapped around your throat, and the fingers that were teasing your clit mercilessly now ventured into the front of your folds. 

One of your hands shot up to clamp over your mouth right before you let out a long groan. You loved when he took control, and when he lost control. If both happened at the same time, it was heaven. 

You could barely last on your knees as his dick slammed up into you repeatedly. The hand around your airway was tight but only just, his praises in your ear being the real culprit of your stolen breath. Your pussy clenched harshly around his length, and you knew from the tight coil in your body that you were seconds from euphoria. 

Seokjin felt it instantly. “Come, baby.” And as soon as he relinquished your throat did you give in, waves of pleasure coursing through you and a white burn shimmering in your lungs. It seemed endless. Ripple after ripple thrummed through your body, your joints slowly unlocking from their initial freeze. Behind you, Seokjin groaned and sang sweet nothings in your ear, his arms wrapping around your chest in a scorching embrace. 

The high ebbed, but did not completely recede. You knew Jin still needed release, so you kissed his wrist next to your shoulder and whispered, “I want to see you now.”

“Whatever you need.” Seokjin slowly unsheathed himself, and you felt a slight pain. You watched as he positioned his back on the headboard. He knew what you wanted to do. 

You made your way over to him and hovered over his length. Locking your hazy eyes with his dark set, you kissed him lazily as you languidly sank back onto him. Seokjin groaned when you didn’t use your hand as a guide beforehand. And frankly, that turned you on, too.

“You’re so tight still,” he grunted, his hands coming up and grabbing your ass before settling on your hips. 

You rolled your hips before finding a rhythm. “You’re just big,” you mock complained, earning a deep chuckle. 

“Aww. You sound. So. Sad,” he teased, thrusting up into you to punctuate each word. Your mewls were welcome now since he was done with his role. Now he could just sit back and enjoy your show for him. And occasionally torture you. 

You found your rhythm again, rougher with him now with your hands in his dark, sweaty locks. One of your hands dropped onto his chest and raked down his breast, eliciting a higher moan than normal. 

The sound caused heat to pool between your legs again, and you upped the pace. Your thighs burned from the exertion, but you kept yourself distracted by diving into Jin’s neck and nipping in multiple places. His arms left your hips to wrap around your back, and your breath faltered as he took over again. 

Seokjin was close. He was always close when his limbs locked hard into place. His upward thrusts were fast and hard, and you could only moan in his ear and take him in. The coil that released once tonight was tightening again, and you murmured in his ear that you were close. 

Seokjin only needed to kiss you like his life depended on it for you to unravel again. The wave was weaker than last time, but it could still cover mountains. Your head felt light, dancing above the clouds with no intention of coming down. You pushed yourself from his lips, allowing him to see your flushed chest and reddened cheeks. The second orgasm faded and loosened your limbs, but your heart felt completely connected to his, your soul nestled into the comfort of his tender embrace. “I love you,” you sighed, and you immediately felt a huge twitch between your folds.

“Lie down, baby. I’m close.” 

“It’s okay,” you whispered, cradling his cheek. “Come inside me, Jinnie. I wanna feel you.” 

“Shit,” he grunted. His thrusts descended into madness. Your heart rattled at the sight of his dusted red cheeks, sweaty neck, heaving chest. He was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen, and the one you would overturn stars to find should you ever lose him again. 

When he gazed down at your joined sex, you took in the wet strands of hair on his forehead. When he kicked his head back against the headboard to look at you with lidded eyes, you bit your swollen lips. This wonderful man was your lover, your ex, your friend, and now your lover again. Only this time, you truly loved him back. And you wanted to think back to this moment forever. 

Tears sprung into your eyes as he pulled you in for a searing kiss, and his orgasm released into you in spurts. The thrusts he made then were slow and powerful, and your body bobbed with the swells. You kissed him harder than necessary, almost willing to bruise your own lips on his. The longer you held his lips captive, the longer he couldn’t see your sorrow. 

But Seokjin already felt the drops ping his chest. He just let you cry because that’s what you needed. Even when he broke from the kiss, he never said a word. He trailed kisses along your wet cheeks, your sweaty nose, and your glistening forehead. His poignant visage held nothing but stars, and it reminded you of the night you fell in love, crushing your spirit ever more. 

Touch after touch after touch only coaxed more tears from your eyes. It felt never ending as you sat spent in his lap, still on his softening length. Sheer willpower was what caused you to finally speak, your voice hoarse, “We should clean up. You still need to pack and sleep.”

“We should, and I do,” he whispered. He patted your bum. “Can you get up by yourself?” 

You nodded before extracting yourself from his firm thighs, lamenting the fact that human bodies had limits. As you waddled to the bathroom, you stumbled along the way, Seokjin softly chuckled while following you and steadying you when needed. Even when you shot empty glares at him, the smile in his eyes never left. 

The rest of your time spent in his room consisted of silence and kisses. Ever the gentleman, he let you lie down on his bed while he used the other half for the bags to pack. It didn’t take him too long since he was organized from the jump, so when he was done he cleared the bed and joined you under the covers. When you felt a weight on your stomach, you looked down to see your camera dumped on the comforter. 

Seokjin wrapped a strong arm behind your neck. “What do you call naked pictures taken with a Polaroid?” 

“Oh, no.” You turned your head to face him. “What?” 

“Just pictures. But that’s old nudes.” 

You punished him by attacking his sides instantly, yanking a batch of honky laughs from him. Knowing your own weaknesses still, he unleashed his own parry, and it took a minute for the both of you to settle in a draw. 

“Don’t tell me the only reason you brought this into the bed was to tell that horrid joke,” you chuckled, your head back to resting in your pillow. 

“Nope. I wanna take one of us.” 

After getting past all seven of your objections and excuses, Seokjin whittled your walls down and got you to agree. The end product existed on the last film in your Polaroid: a crooked snapshot of him kissing your cheek as you smiled with creased eyes, sheets held against your chest. And he conceded in letting you keep it after watching you clutch it lovingly in your fingers. 

You immediately sought comfort in his embrace after setting the photo next to your phone on the nightstand, and he stole multiple kisses from you way after your eyes couldn’t stay open any longer. 

“Get some sleep, my love,” Seokjin whispered. 

And despite your sound of protest, you were pulled into the abyss of sleep right as you felt pillowy lips caress your forehead.

Rin-Rin [6:40am]: You’re lucky I love you. I packed your stuff and left out an outfit for you when you come down. Just don’t be late or I’ll drag you back down myself :)))

Jiminie [6:45am]: RISE N SHINE LOVEBIRDS

Rin-Rin [6:46am]: Oh, yeah, I may or may not have texted Jimin. 

Jiminie [6:46am]: ABOUT TIME

Jiminie [6:46am]: !!!

Tae [6:47am]: jimins scream woke me up. i can only assume that means ill get to be an uncle soon. dont let me down i want this(: 

Joonie [6:48am]: Aaaaaaaaaa !!!

Jiminie [6:48am]: And I know you want to yell at me for yesterday so I am ready for that whenever you are

Kook [6:50am]: <3 

You smiled at your texts before locking your phone. Seokjin was already up and about, making sure everything was packed and accounted for. When he saw you stirring, he came over and surprised you with a kiss so deep that it revitalized your sagging emotional state. “Morning,” you chuckled, swinging your sore legs out of the sheets and wincing at the cold. “I need to head back down.”

“Yeah, Rin already sent the first round of threats. I’ll see you at the car, okay?” 

You pecked him on the cheek after you slipped on your boots and grabbed your Polaroid.  Stepping into the hallway, you kept reminding yourself to not completely lose it yet. There was still a whole car ride you got to have with him, and you were determined to slow down time however you could. 

Your phone buzzed again, and you assumed Yoongi and Hoseok were just now waking up and getting the gossip. Checking your notifications only validated your guess.

Hobi [6:52am]: AHHHHH HAPPY FOR U~!!!

Hobi [6:52am]: ASLSKDJSKDHSKDJ

Yoongi [6:53am]: I’ll make sure to drag him back sometimes. It’s ludicrous to say that we’d never see him again. Drama queen. Anyways, happy for you. If you need anything, let me know. 

Hobi [6:53am]: we’ll see seokjinnie again love. and if u miss him a lot then we can make sure you see him. im sure he’ll be missing u too

How you were able to win the friend lottery and meet these people, you had no clue. But you weren’t going to ever question the fact. All you would do was embrace your blessings and love them. 

The car ride to the airport was long, but still much too short for your liking. Between the loving gazes you directed at Seokjin as he sang along to Taehyung’s music, the looks full of mirth Jimin gave the both of you from the backseat, and the laughter of both Rin and Taehyung, you were the happiest you’ve felt in a very long time. 

Throughout the ride, you got the feeling that you were going to be okay. Seokjin was starting an insane adventure, but you were also going to be there every step of the way. Not just on the polaroid he decided to stash in his bag, but in his heart and on his mind like Namjoon said around the fire. 

There were still plenty of ways to see each other and communicate. And since he technically didn’t start until next summer, that gave you plenty of time to see him before then. The many possibilities made you question your hesitation in the first place. 

But none of that diminished how much of a struggle it was still going to be. 

When the car rolled to a stop in the airport parking lot, your chest constricted. When everyone got their bags out of the cars and started the trek to the shuttles, your hands shook on your straps. As soon as everyone started saying their byes and separating to check into their airlines, you found it hard to breathe. 

But a tender hand brushed through your hair, and plush lips connected with your forehead. In an instant, you felt okay again. 

Seokjin’s calm voice slipped over your features. “Your flight leaves in two hours, right?” When you nodded, he continued, “Okay. Come shop with me before I have to go to my gate!” 

You tried your best to keep a positive attitude while you watched Jin peruse different airport stores. When he would hold stuff up for you to approve, you would smile or dramatically turn things down. Even the cute neck pillow he really wanted got the dreaded rejection. 

But that was only so you could pay for it when he wasn’t looking and surprise him. The huge laugh and grin you got in return was worth the trouble. 

When it was time for Seokjin to head to his gate, you brought him in for a crushing hug. “Let me know when you land,” you demanded. 

“Of course, honey,” he said through a smile. 

“‘Honey,’ now?” You regarded him with a raised eyebrow. “You have so many nicknames for me. I can’t keep up. Do you have a favorite you could stick with?” 

Seokjin rested his chin on your head. “Ah, I have a favorite. But it’s not true yet, so I shouldn’t use it.” 

A fire ignited in your heart, the flames warming you from the inside. “And which one is that?” 

“Would you look at the time!” Jin’s body heat left you in a rush as he stepped away, and your instinctual pout made him laugh outright. He cupped your chin for a kiss that rocked your whole being before pulling away. His eyes held galaxies in them when he stared into yours. “Guess you’ll have to wait for the answer to that one.” 

“You’re a jerk, Jinnie,” you huffed, but you kissed him again. “You’re lucky I love you.” 

“I really am. And I love you,” he responded. His hand came down to squeeze yours before he had to part. “I’ll let you know when I make it. Call me when you get home, okay?” 

“Okay,” you replied, and you watched his long strides with a heavy heart and a hopeful mind. 

As you told yourself again and again, you were going to be okay. It was going to be tough, it was going to be absolutely painful. But as long as you decided to keep loving each other, everything would work out. 

You knew better than anyone that love was a choice. And for Seokjin, you would choose it a thousand times over. 

And besides, the current state of technology was on your side. The possibilities of communication were too endless for you to dwell on the distance. Were there going to be days in which you only received one text? Most likely. Were there going to be weeks where you weren’t going to hear much from Seokjin at all? Definitely. But this time, unlike last time, you welcomed every bit of it. Your heart built a bridge to his that defied any sense of physical distance. On opposite sides, both of you were achieving success in your own ways. In the end, you would always come back to each other to celebrate together. Even though this was the last November trip you had with Seokjin, it was the beginning of many, many wonderful years to come.

It was later, while you were waiting for your own flight to finish boarding, that a message was sent to your phone. 

Jinnie [12:04pm]: Attachment: 1 Image

You couldn’t help but grin. As you gazed lovingly at the picture of Seokjin smiling next to your polaroid, another one came in before you could respond.

Jinnie [12:05pm]: Until you’re really next to me, this will have to do. Don’t get too jealous! 

You laughed to yourself, rolling your eyes while setting the image as your wallpaper. Locking your phone, you tapped the glass to see your screen light up, observing the picture again.

On a plane heading to another city entirely, Seokjin was doing the exact same thing. Except in his case, he was smiling down at a girl caught in mid-laughter, body aglow from the bright yellow lights of a spinning carousel behind her. 

-

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a/n: whewww so if you made it to the end, hi! i seriously enjoyed writing this and i learned so much. it’s my first fic and first huge one-shot, so if you have any comments/concerns/constructive feedback, please let me know! my ask box is always open, too. lastly, here is my m.list if you want to browse! 🌨🌨🌨 ++ feedback box (added nov. 25th, 2021): ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that aren’t okay with reblogging with a review, commenting on this, or sending a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a feedback dropbox :D ⇥ here!   ++ ⇥ masterlist 

[agustd-png]

78. "There is no way anyone is that innocent" + sungjin? :p kinda sorta obsessed w sungjin w a corruption kink mwahahahahah

plsss omg a corruption kink for him ur so right adlkndflxvj

78. "There is no way anyone is that innocent"

NOTE: I’m not accepting requests rn, these requests were sent during a short window of time that I accepted requests~

"What do they sell there?" You asked your boyfriend, inquiring about a shop near his apartment that you'd heard one of his neighbors talking about.

But Sungjin just chuckled as he unlocked his door, pushing on it with his shoulder, then walking in. "It's um...it's an adult store, babe."

You weren't entirely sure what he meant, so your brow just furrowed as you followed him in. "'Adult store'?"

He dropped his keys on his table and turned to face you, with an expectant expression, but yours was just blank. "Yeah, an adult store?" he repeated. After he realized you weren’t getting it, he decided to just say it outright. "It's a sex shop, Y/N. For porn, toys...that kind of thing."

"Oh."

Well if he had to spell it out for you...

You and Sungjin had done a few things more than kissing, but you were still quite inexperienced at sex and he was guiding you every step of the way.

"There's no way anyone is that innocent," he teased, coming over to you.

"I guess I am," you replied with a somewhat embarrassed blush, letting him cup your cheek and press his lips to yours.

"Seems there's still a lot I have to show you then, huh?"

The blood coursed through your veins even faster, making you gulp at the pounding of your heartbeat. You dropped your hands to the hem of your skirt and lifted it slowly until the crotch of your panties started to show. Chewing on your bottom lip, you responded. "Then why don't you show me? I think I could use a lesson..."

Sungjin wetted his lips as he watched you hold your skirt up, knowing you were only this comfortable with him, and only because he'd taken his time introducing you to each new thing. He loved being the one to do that for and with you, and it stirred something within him to see you acting dirty on your own accord these days. It made him want to toss you onto his bed and go at it until the neighbors complained, but he knew it would be awhile yet until then. Maybe someday...

But until that day, he was enjoying being the one to help usher you into this new sexual world after you’d spent your life out of it.

Sungjin's thumb stroked over your cheek and he gave you his full attention. "Well, first of all, I need you to tell me what you want, exactly."

But you didn't have anything in particular in mind; you wanted to do and feel it all. So you decided to leave it in his hands. "Whatever you want, I want..."

Sungjin just chuckled again, more darkly this time. The images of all the filthy things he's fantasized about doing with you flashed through his mind. Knowing they were on the horizon was turning him on. "That's very sweet. But I guarantee you're not ready for what I want, angel." He stepped closer, his face mere centimeters from yours now, and he let his hand ghost over your torso then slip under your skirt. He cupped you over your panties, making your breath hitch, and dragged his palm over you with a sense a guiding authority. Your hips instinctively rocked against the pressure, chasing the pleasant electricity it brought to your clit. You were much needier than he, chasing after each bit of new pleasure, while he stayed fairly composed. Seeing you like that made him happy though; he liked to see you taking matters into your own hands a bit. You would have never done that before you met him, but as time went on, you started doing it more and more. He brushed his lips against yours and felt your breathing get heavier as you grinded on his strong hand.

"Hmm, does that feel good? You like my fingers?"

You whimpered affirmatively, which made him smile affectionately.

"How would you like them inside you?"

You practically moaned at the idea of having something inside you, your hips stuttering. "Please..."

If you enjoyed this, consider liking, reblogging, replying, or sending an ask (comments and messages provide so much motivation to keep writing!) 💌 Thanks for reading! 💋

[itsclydebitches]

I keep seeing people calling Good Omens queer bating and a I can't help but ask why? I read the Aziraphale/Crowley relationship threw an Ace lens and they are clearly as close to married as they are probably going to get without stepping on holy ground.... and they love each other... why is it considered queer bating?

Personally, I think it's mostly young queer fans turning legitimate grievances on the wrong target. A case of getting so fed up with queerbaiting in media as a whole that they're instinctually lashing out at anything that seems to resembles it on the surface, without taking the time to consider whether this is, in fact, the thing they're mad at. Good Omens is a scapegoat, if you will. The equivalent of snapping at your partner after a long day. Your friend was an asshole, your boss was an asshole, the guy in traffic was an asshole, and then you come home to your partner who says something teasing and you take it as another asshole comment because you've just been surrounded by assholeness all day, to the point where your brain is primed to see an attack. Your partner wasn't actually an asshole, but by this point you're (understandably) too on guard to realize that. Unless someone sits you down and kindly reminds you of the difference between playful teasing and a legitimate insult - the nuance, if you will - your hackles are just gonna stay up and you'll leave the room, off to phone a different friend to tell them all about how your partner was definitely an asshole to you.

Only in this case, that "friend" is a fan on social media doing think pieces on the supposed queerbaiting of Good Omens, spreading that idea to a) people who aren't familiar with the show themselves and b) those who, like that original fan, have come to expect queerbaiting and thus aren't inclined to question the latest story with that mark leveled against it. Because on the surface Good Omens can look a lot like queerbaiting. Here are two queer coded characters who clearly love each other, but don't say "I love you," don't kiss, don't "prove" that love in a particular way. So Gaiman is just leading everyone on, right?

Well... no. This is where the nuance comes in, the thing that many fans aren't interested in grappling with (because, like it or not, media is not made up of black and white categories; queerbaited and not-queerbaited. Supernatural's finale is proof enough of that...) I won't delve into the most detailed explanation here, but suffice to say:

Gaiman has straight up said it's a love story. He's just not giving them concrete labels like "gay" or "bi" or "asexual," etc. because they are literally not human. Gaiman has subscribed to an inclusive viewpoint in an era where fans are desperate for unambiguous rep that homophobes cannot possibly deny. The freedom to prioritize any interpretation - yes, including a "just friends" interpretation - now, in 2021, feels like a cop-out. However, in this case it's an act of world building (they are an angel and a demon, not bound by human understanding of identity) meeting a genuine desire to make these characters relatable to the entire queer community, not just particular subsets. Gaiman has said they can be whatever we want because the gender, sexuality, and romantic attraction of an angel and a demon is totally up for debate! However, some fans have interpreted that as a dismissal of canonical queerness; the idea that fans can pretend they're whatever they want... but it's definitely not canon. It is though. Them being queer is 100% canon, it's just up to us to decide what kind of queer they are. This isn't Gaiman stringing audiences along, it's him opening the relationship up to all queer possibilities.

We know he's not stringing us along (queerbaiting) because up until just a few days ago season two didn't exist. Queerbaiting is a deliberate strategy to maintain an audience. A miniseries does not need to maintain its audience. You binge it in one go and you're done, no coming back next year required. The announcement for season two doesn't erase that context for season one. No one knew there would be more content and thus the idea that they would implement a strategy designed to keep viewers hooked due to the hope for a queer relationship (with no intent to follow through) is... silly.

In addition, this interpretive, queer relationship between Crowley and Aziraphale existed in the book thirty years ago. Many fans are not considering the difference between creating a totally new story in 2019 and faithfully adapting a story from 1990 in 2019. Good Omens as representation meant something very different back then and that absolutely impacts how we see its adaptation onto the small screen. To put this into perspective, Rowling made HUGE waves when she revealed that she "thought of" Dumbledore as gay in an interview... in 2007. Compare that to the intense coding 17 years before. Gaiman was - and still is - pushing boundaries.

Which includes being an established ally, particularly in his comics. Queerbaiting isn't just the act of a single work, but the way an author approaches their work. Gaiman does not (to my knowledge) have that mark against him and even if he did, he's done enough other work to offset that.

Finally, we've got other, practical issues like: how do you represent asexuality on the screen? How do you show an absence of something? Yeah, one or both of them could claim that label in the show, outright saying, "I'm asexual," but again, Gaimain isn't looking to box his mythological figures into a single identity. So if we want that rep... we have to grapple with the fact that this is one option for what it looks like.

Even if he did want to narrow the representation down to just a few identities for the show, should Gaiman really be making those major changes when he's only one half of the author team? Pratchett has, sadly, passed on and thus obviously has no say in whether his characters undergo such revisions. Even if fans hate every other argument, they should understand that, out of respect, Good Omens is going to largely remain the same story it was 30 years ago.

And those 6,000 years are just the beginning! Again, this was meant to be a miniseries of a single novel, a novel that, crucially, covered only Crowley and Aziraphale's triumph in being able to love one another freely. That's a part of their personal journey. Yeah, they've been together in one sense for 6,000 years, but that was always with hell and heaven on their backs, to say nothing of the slow-burn approach towards acknowledging that love, for Aziraphale in particular. We end the story at the start of their new relationship, one that is more free and open than it ever was before. They can be anything to one another now! The fact that we don't see that isn't a deliberate attempt on the author's part to deny us that representation, but only a result of the story ending.

So yeah, there's a lot to consider and, frankly, I don't think those fans are considering it. Which on a purely emotional level I can understand. I'm pissed about queerbaiting too and the knee-jerk desire to reject anything that doesn't meet a specific standard is understandable. But understandable doesn't mean we don't have to work against that instinct because doing otherwise is harmful in the long run. We need to consider when stories were published and what representation meant back then. We need to consider how we adapt those stories for a modern audience. We need to acknowledge that if we want the inclusivity that "queer" provides us, that includes getting characters whose identity is not strictly defined by the author as well as characters with overtly canonical labels. We need both. We likewise need to be careful about when having higher standards ends up hurting the wrong authors - who are our imperfect allies vs. those straight up unwilling to embrace our community at all? And most importantly, we have to think about how we're using the terms we've developed to discuss these issues. Queerbaiting means something specific and applying it to Good Omens not only does Good Omens a disservice, but it undermines the intended meaning of "queerbaiting," making it harder to use correctly in the future. Good Omens is not queerbaiting and trying to claim it is only hurts the community those fans are speaking up for.

[chaos-burst]

questions and answers

He had meant to be rude. And it had not worked even a little bit. Eodwulf is sure that anyone else would have been offended. Hell, he’s even sure that the other members of this weird group were absolutely offended on behalf of their friend. But Eodwulf can’t say he has ever met a person like this.

There was no malice, no ill intent, no anger.

When you work with Trent you have to be aware of every little shift in the mood. The slightest twitch of an eyebrow can mean the weather is about to turn foul. Eodwulf knows what to look out for. It had been his intent to rev this weirdo up and it had backfired spectacularly.

Damn.

No meat. No booze. And balls of steel, apparently. Eodwulf had never seen anyone talk to Trent like that. And while Bren‘s—Caleb‘s—words of wanting to kill Trent outright had been more than Eodwulf would ever admit to his mentor, it somehow felt less crazily reckless than to call Trent Ikithon, Archmage of Civil Influence for the Cerberus Assembly and one of the most powerful mages in the Empire, a fucking fool.

To his face. With a smile. In a complete sincere manner.

Eodwulf doesn’t want to replay the words in his head over and over again but his dumb brain has latched onto them and he can’t stop. Only this time it’s not one of Trent’s lessons that forces him to obsessively repeat something until you have internalized it to the point where you can cite it in your sleep.

No.

“Pain doesn’t make people. It’s love that makes people.“

Eodwulf has it on repeat in his head the whole way back to the tower and it is still going when he lies down hours later to sleep.

“What are you“ had not been meant as a serious question when Eodwulf had asked it. But by the time he finally falls asleep he feels like it has become a very vital question indeed, because who or what would dare to speak to Master Trent Ikithon in a way like this with an honest smile on their face.

*

Because for some reason his thoughts have decided to betray him, Eodwulf’s brain makes his tongue and lips form the words again when they see the Mighty Nein the next time. This time, Astrid and Eodwulf have been invited to dinner—Trent has very specifically not been invited, you could say he was uninvited with quite a few flowery words in a strange accent.

And as soon as Eodwulf sees Caduceus he remembers the weirdly polite scratching of a chair, the wide smile that indicates that this is a person Eodwulf possibly can not force to lose their composure through careful placed rudeness. And his mouth betrays him.

“So. What are you, really?“

Caduceus blinks mildly surprised before his unfamiliar features shift into a warm smile that has Eodwulf feel quite a lot of inappropriate things he didn’t expect to find in a place like this.

“Gardener. Maker of fine tea. A decent cook. Keeper of graves“, Caduceus lists of and he uses his long fingers to count the things that are important to him about himself.

“Very powerful cleric“, Jester chimes in from the right. She has Astrid next to her in a chair and Eodwulf is pretty sure that Jester has started to put flowers in Astrid’s hair. But surely he must be mistaken. Who in the Nine Hells are these crazy people?

“Oh, yeah. Well, that too, I suppose“, Caduceus says, his smile still warm like honeyed wine.

“Huh“, Eodwulf says because he can’t for the life of him think of something else to say. But Caduceus is yet again pulling out a chair for him so Eodwulf straightens his shoulders and sits down next to Caduceus. Across the table from him the angry one throws herself into a chair and stares at him.

There’s no fear there either, but she can be easily angered, something Eodwulf is good at. He gives her a canine smile and she holds up her middle finger.

This group is full of people with an enormous lack of self preservation.

And they are so loud.

Eodwulf almost doesn’t hear it when Caduceus turns to him to ask him a question.

“Huh?“, he says again, like a fool.

“And what are you, was what I wanted to know“, Caduceus says, his lazy grin open and honest. There is no malice in his words. He actually wants to know.

Eodwulf thinks “Murderer, wizard, protégé, spy“ but he doesn’t say any of these things. “Maker of graves“ comes to mind, but it seems like too dark of a joke to make.

“Enthusiastic about both meat and booze“, he says in the end and Caduceus laughs.

“Yeah, as are most of my friends.“

The implication these words bring is probably only in Eodwulf’s mind but it makes him swallow and look away to find Astrid’s eyes. But Astrid now has pink flowers in her hair and a look of absolute confusion on her face as Jester rattles of compliment after compliment about various of Astrid’s features.

Eodwulf can’t help but look at Bre—Caleb. And he sees that there is a soft, barely noticeable smile on his old friend’s face as he watches the scene unfold.

What am I, indeed, he thinks.

*

Trent’s orders have been clear. Get close to the group called the Mighty Nein to find out what they are working on with Lady Vess DeRogna.

Eodwulf allows himself to think that Caduceus might have been right. Maybe Master Ikithon is indeed a fool.

Because being in the presence of these people is like nothing Eodwulf has ever experienced and it makes him think, wonder, question—

“Here we are again“, Caduceus says after, yet again, Astrid and Eodwulf have been invited for dinner. Eodwulf wonders if this group just wants to make it very easy to spy on them, or if they have an agenda of their own—but it’s hard to believe that there might be any coherent agenda behind anything these people do.

He has watched the buff one called Yasha try and play what looked like a harp made of bone and when the angry one, Beau, told her that she looked hot playing the harp Yasha had torn two of the strings which had led to a whole scene of apologies and various tries to fix the harp.

Jester has drawn dicks on pretty much every surface this magical mansion has and she delights in the fact that Caleb brings the dicks to life in various colors. At some point he made glowing sparkles shoot out of one of the dicks Jester had drawn and Jester had laughed as if this was the best joke she had ever witnessed.

Eodwulf notices Astrid’s eyes on Jester.

Eodwulf also notices that while there seems to be no agenda or efficiency behind anything, they are still being watched.

Beau and Fjord look at them. And Eodwulf is pretty sure Caduceus watches everything as well, but he does it without crossing his arms and glaring so much.

“Looks like it”, he answers. Caduceus offers him tea and Eodwulf’s first instinct is to decline, but then he remembers that “maker of fine tea” had been very high on the list of descriptors so he takes the cup he is offered while somewhere in the background people start screaming something that sounds like “FLUFFERNUTTER”.

Eodwulf tries the tea. He’s not a fan of tea, but this tea is absolutely delicious and he finds himself impressed.

“I believe this one comes from the Hollburns’ graves. Those remains made the tea grow quite fast, it was impressive.”

Eodwulf blinks at his tea and then at Caduceus. For a second his brain wonders if this statement should register as a threat, but it had been delivered with such honest delight and a sense of pride that Eodwulf discards that feeling.

“What?”, he asks. Caduceus points at the tea.

“Oh, well, my family grows tea on those graves we’re keeping. In case you wanted to ask me again what I am. Or—hm, I think I already mentioned that I am a keeper of graves?”

Caduceus trails off and looks thoughtful and Eodwulf stares at him.

“Keeper of Graves. That make you a follower of the Matron?”, he asks.

Caduceus looks at him and smiles.

“Not quite. My family serves Melora. But we are descended from a champion of the Raven Queen.”

Eodwulf can’t help but wonder if this was some kind of weird joke. But his goddess usually isn’t one for joking.

Eodwulf considers for a second, then he pulls out the raven feather pendant from under his cloak.

Caduceus nods. “So”, he says and smiles widely. “What are you?”

Eodwulf snorts.

“For real?”, he says.

Caduceus’ smile widens.

“For real.”

*

It feels like this has become a sort of game.

“What are you?”

“Moral compass. Middle sibling. Eccentric. Amateur flute player.”

Eodwulf finds that through this question he himself posed the first time, he’s been forced to think more about himself than he feels comfortable with.

“What are you?”

“Decent chess player. Dog person. Sportsman. Only child.”, are the things he says out loud.

“Self-made orphan. Patriot. Volstrucker. Torturer.”, are the things he thinks to himself.

Eodwulf has the impression that Caduceus is somehow aware of the things he doesn’t say.

*

“So. This is the crew you’re running with now?”, Eodwulf asks Bre—Caleb one night before the Mighty Nein will leave with Vess DeRogna to who-knows-where. Neither Astrid nor Eodwulf did get very far with their planned infiltration work. Eodwulf is not even sure how hard they even tried.

It’s very easy to get swept away by the chaos and the weirdness and the complete lack of fear that the group displays when it comes to him and Astrid. They are dangerous people in a lot of ways.

The Mighty Nein are also dangerous people in a very different way. A way that Eodwulf doesn’t know anything about.

“This is my family, ja.”

He says it, just like that, without looking at Eodwulf.

Family.

The word tastes bitter in Eodwulf’s mouth as he leans back in his chair and crosses his arms.

“Weird people”, he says. Caleb huffs.

“You can say that, yes. But they grow on you very quickly”, he answers quietly and with a small, fond smile that makes something inside Eodwulf ache. For a long time Eodwulf pitied Bren for breaking, for not making it, for failing, for being locked away and discarded. Now he realizes that maybe, in a very macabre sort of way, Bren becoming Caleb through failure was the better end of the bargain.

It feels blasphemous to think that.

“The pink one is especially weird”, Eodwulf finds himself saying and he takes a big swig of whiskey from his flask before handing it to Caleb.

“Ja, I noticed that you seem to have a... uh... particular kind of interest in him. And, if I may add, he in you.”

Eodwulf takes the flask back after Caleb drinks. He contemplates the different sorts of feelings inside his gut as the words sink in. Then he tucks it all away very carefully, just as he learned through many years of being in Trent’s presence.

“Still don’t know what he is”, Eodwulf says. Caleb snorts and shakes his head.

“His people are called Firbolg”, he provides.

“Not sure that’s what I mean. Not anymore, at least.”

It seems dangerous to admit that. Caleb turns his head and looks at Eodwulf with a shimmer in his eyes that Eodwulf can’t read. Many years ago he was able to read Bren like an open book, but Caleb is another book entirely.

“You deserve to have some nice things, you know. You deserve friends. A chance of—hm. A chance of peace. A chance for redemption, if you want it.”

Eodwulf gets up and tugs away his flask.

“Pain doesn’t make people. It’s love that makes people. Pain is inconsequential, it’s love that saves them.”

Eodwulf understands the truth in these words now. Bren was broken, Caleb is being healed. Eodwulf doesn’t think that there’s anything left in him that can be saved. Or should be saved.

“Good luck on your journey tomorrow. Don’t die”, Eodwulf says and he leaves Caleb behind.

What are you, he thinks. A sentimental fool.

*

Astrid sits next to him on one of the balconies of her house and looks up at the stars above them. The Mighty Nein have been gone for six days and it has been very quiet.

They sit in silence and share a bottle of whiskey, passing it back and forth instead of words. It’s been like this for many many years that they’ve allowed themselves to just be. Today though, Astrid breaks the silence.

“I’m going to be the one who kills him.”

She says it quietly, without remorse, without indicating that this is a scandalous statement. She says it just how other people would say “I’ll go to bed soon.”.

Eodwulf stops breathing for just a moment. Then he inhales the cool night air and turns his head to look at her.

“Could kill you for treason”, he says. She looks at him and cocks her head slightly, the analyzing gaze of a murderous spy meets its equal in silence.

“I’d love to see you try”, she says. Eodwulf grins. It feels reckless.

“Don’t die”, he says, the same thing he’s said to Caleb before. Astrid regards him for a long moment and Eodwulf takes another sip. “Will you help me or try to stop me?”

Eodwulf considers this for a moment. Would he try to stop Astrid should she try to kill Trent? No. Would he help her? He doesn’t know that either.

“Can’t you just wait for Bren to do it for you?”

“I won’t lose to him again.”

Eodwulf snorts.

Always so competitive.

“That’s some fucked up shit, Astrid.”

“Shut up, Arschloch.”

Eodwulf grins before getting up to stretch. He puts his hands on the railing of Astrid’s balcony and wonders what Caleb’s new family is up to.

Making a new family never came to mind before. It sounds like something out of a fairy tale. While he contemplates the question whether he would help Astrid kill Trent Ikithon, a slow, familiar voice pops up in his head.

“Hey. Uh—Jester told me to send you an update. We’re still alive. Hope you’re good. Got  a new question for you. What will you become?”

The rustling of Astrid’s clothes as she stands up as well somehow tells him that she received a message in her head as well. She steps beside him and puts her hands on the railing next to his.

“They’re persistent”, she says quietly.

Eodwulf nods and inhales.

He doesn’t know what he will become. He didn’t even know that was a question to be asked. The path is clear. It always was.

Pain doesn’t make people.

“Not going to answer?”, she wants to know.

“Don’t have an answer yet.”

It’s unclear to him whether she means her own question or the message Caduceus just sent him.

He answers the sending spell with a simple “I don’t know.”. It takes a few minutes before another message comes in.

“That’s good. Uncertainty is good. It’s the first step in a better direction. I’m going to kill a dragon now. Wish me luck. Good night.”

“I’ll keep you posted on the answer to that question of yours. I’ll see you tomorrow”, he says and leaves Astrid behind on the balcony. Eodwulf thinks about something he hasn’t thought about in a very long time. A priestess in his Matron’s temple once told him: “Death is the only certainty in life.”.

He thinks that Caduceus would agree.

And Eodwulf hopes that the next time he sees that weird, reckless man, he’ll have an answer for him.

[yournameoneverypage]

Moon Over Miami

Anon request; Shawn Mendes x (y/n).

~3.1k

Warnings: Language.

~ * ~

You scowled at your overflowing carry on. You really didn’t want to bring something bigger, because that would mean baggage check and waiting at luggage carousels and that was just a headache waiting to happen.

Shawn was stretched across your bed on his back, tossing a tennis ball in the air and catching it again. “(Y/n), it’s Miami and we’re only going to be there for four days,” he chuckled. “You do not need to pack so many clothes.”

“Yes, I do. You’re a boy; you don’t understand.”

“First off, I am not a boy. I am a man, and a very attractive one at that.”

You rolled your eyes. Even if you wholeheartedly agreed, you were not going to stroke his ego.

“At the very least, lose most of the makeup. You’ll just sweat it off anyway. And you know I like you better without all that gunk on your face.”

“It doesn’t matter what you do or don’t like, now does it?” you snarked.

He sat up and leaned back against the pillows at the headboard. “I just meant that you’re already so pretty, naturally.”

Shawn was always finding little ways to compliment you and, secretly, you loved it, even if it made you blush, even if it was hard to believe some days.

“Fine.” You threw your hands up in the air in frustration. “You pack for me then.”

“Fine. I will.” He stood from the bed and poked your side. “So dramatic,” he teased, dancing his fingertips from ribcage to hip.

You gave him a small shove, and quickly moved out of tickling range (he knew where your most sensitive spots were). You stuck your tongue out at him.

“Don’t stick it out unless you intend to use it,” he smirked.

“Ha! You wish,” you giggled.

~ * ~

You and Shawn.

It was...confusing.

You had first met him five months ago and had become a regular fixture in his life over the past three. You were friends, good friends. Good friends who spent a ridiculous amount of time together. Good friends who flirted. A lot.

There were feelings, definitely on your side, growing stronger every day you spent together, and you were starting to believe there were deeper feelings on his side as well.

Other than outright pressing your lips to his, and you had never really been that forward with anyone, you weren’t sure what to do to tip the scales from friendship and flirtation to more.

You could simply tell him you were falling for him and that you wanted to take your relationship to the next level, but that scared you even more than the thought of kissing him.

~ * ~

Fifteen minutes later, Shawn stood smugly beside you. Your bag was packed neatly, and you were happy with everything he chose (not that you would admit that to him), which showed you he knew you better than you thought he did. There was even enough room left over for accessories.

It shouldn’t have surprised you; he was pretty adept at packing, having been on tour so often.

“Shut up,” you mumbled.

“I didn’t even say anything!”

“But you want to.”

Shawn laughed.

You only added two things, just to prove a point.

~ * ~

You may as well have been in Florida with only Brian and Connor for as often as Shawn had been around the first two days.

The trip had started out incredibly.

You took a redeye from LA to Miami. Shawn held your hand during takeoff and landing. It was your first time flying first class; you didn’t care that you slept through most of it.

Shawn had rented a 3-bedroom beachfront bungalow for the long weekend and had ordered a breakfast basket to be waiting for you when you got there. Everyone ate their fill of croissants and muffins and fresh fruit while you sipped your tea and coffee. Afterward you all agreed that a morning nap poolside sounded ideal.

Shawn claimed the double lounger for the two of you. You curled up beside him and he threw a light blanket over both his and your legs. You laid your head on his shoulder and were asleep within minutes.

When you opened your eyes again, after the best nap you may have ever had in your life thus far, Shawn was no longer beside you. You could see him just inside the back door, talking on his phone.

“Hey,” he announced, returning to the patio, after seeing that you, Brian, and Connor had all awoken. “I’m going to catch up with Camila. I’ll text you after lunch; see where you are.”

~ * ~

You didn’t see Shawn again that first day until you were making plans to spend the evening in South Beach for sunset drinks, dinner, and then a pub crawl for even more drinking.

The boys teased you for being such a lightweight. You were blissfully buzzed, which made it easier for you to let your inhibitions go. Shawn was more intoxicated than you were, which made it a lot easier for you to tug him onto the dance floor.

Flush against him while you moved together to the music, fingertips grazing bare skin, it was too easy to forget that you had been upset with him at all.

Spending all afternoon at the Bayside Market in the hot Miami sun, followed by a night of drinking and dancing into the very early hours of the morning had finally caught up with you. By the time you made it back to the bungalow, you were piggyback on Shawn, your sandals dangling from his fingers by the straps.

~ * ~

Day 2 began with three boys nursing hangovers much worse than yours. You did little things to annoy them, on purpose, which was, admittedly, not very nice of you. You knew they’d had enough when they decided to throw you in the pool. When Shawn reached out, laughing, to help you out, you pulled him in instead.

He chased you into one of the corners of the deep end, trapping you between the pool wall and his hard, wet chest, his arms on either side of you. You had to hold onto his biceps to keep yourself afloat, which, from the look in his eyes, was exactly how and where he wanted you.

Your heart was telling you to use this position to your advantage, finally tip those scales, and you might have if it had been the night before when you were a little drunk. Regretfully, you were sober and when you were sober you tended to overthink things. Now that you were sober, he was too close.

You ducked underwater, under his arm, and quickly pulled yourself out of the pool.

~ * ~

Once you were dry and dressed, you dragged Shawn, Connor, and Brian to Wynwood to go on a golf cart tour of the Walls. They had all been to Miami before, more than once, so they had put you in charge of the itinerary.

From Wynwood you made your way to Little Havana.

After a string of late afternoon texts from Camila, Shawn asked if she could join the four of you for dinner. He wanted you to meet her.

They tried their best to be inclusive throughout dinner, and Camila was certainly nice enough, but still you felt like the fifth wheel, the spare, most of the time.

After dinner, Shawn and Camila wandered off together. When it became clear that Shawn wouldn’t be returning to the house with the rest of you, your heart sank. You stewed in your hurt until it became anger.

You understood that Camila was one of Shawn’s best friends, and he hadn’t seen her for a while. You could forgive him for the day before, but this was supposed to be your trip. You, Brian, Connor, and Shawn. D'Artagnan and the Three Musketeers. If all Shawn had wanted to do was hang out with Camila, why had he bothered to invite you at all? You held no grudge against or felt any ill will toward Camila. It wasn’t her fault that Shawn was being a clueless dick.

~ * ~

You were laying on your side, looking out the window of which you forgot to close the blinds. The moon reflected off the still water of the pool that you could see from your room.

You heard the quietest clearing of someone’s throat. You rolled over to see Shawn leaning against the frame of the doorway, bare chested, in soft gray pajama bottoms.

“Couldn’t sleep?” you asked softly. You couldn’t sleep either, even though you were exhausted.

You really didn’t want to spend the remainder of your time in Miami being angry with him. There were still two days left. You patted the mattress on the empty side of your bed. That was all the invitation he needed.

Shawn crawled into bed beside you, tugged on the open collar of the other half of his pajamas, and chuckled, “Thief.”

“It’s so soft, and it smells like you,” you whispered.

Shawn laid his head on your stomach and you instinctively started to run your fingers through his hair, tugging gently on his curls. You heard him sigh deeply, contentedly, and the next thing you remembered was waking up to the bright morning sun.

~ * ~

You smiled and stretched languidly. Shawn must have made his way back to his own room during the night sometime. You didn’t hear anyone else up and about yet. You decided to surprise the boys by making breakfast.

Brian and Connor stumbled into the kitchen, following the smell of sizzling bacon and strong coffee.

“Is Shawn still sleeping?” you asked.

Connor and Brian exchanged a look. Connor cleared his throat and said, “Shawn isn’t here.”

You didn’t even have to ask where he had gone. Returning to your room you retrieved your phone on the nightstand. You hadn’t bothered to check it when you woke up.

There was a group text from Shawn that read:

Grabbing a workout and then a quick breakfast with Camila. Be back soon.

Brian and Connor were nearly finished eating when Shawn returned, oblivious to what he was walking into. He grabbed a few slices of bacon and sat down to join them at the kitchen island.

“Where’s (y/n)?”

Brian and Connor shook their heads at him. “You can be such a prick sometimes,” Brian said. Both he and Connor then stood and left the room.

Confused, Shawn glanced around and suddenly it all made sense. “Shit,” he said to himself, under his breath.

~ * ~

Shawn stood in your bedroom doorway like he had the night before.

“I’m sorry, (y/n).”

You refused to acknowledge him.

“I didn’t know you were going to make breakfast or I would have been back sooner.”

You wanted to bite at him that he shouldn’t have been gone at all.

You had just pulled on your swimsuit cover up when you turned to him. His eyes snapped from your ass to your eyes. You slipped on your sunglasses, grabbed your beach bag, and said, “Brian, Connor, and I will be on the beach, if you decide you want to join us.” You pushed past him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he replied.

~ * ~

You purposely chose to wear the smallest, sexiest bikini you had with you. It wasn’t one you yourself would have packed but since Shawn had been the one to pack your carry on he must have wanted to see you in it. The day you bought it was a day when you were feeling particularly confident in your body.

By the time Shawn made it down to the beach, he found you in conversation with two young men who weren’t Brian or Connor. You had removed your cover up and stood before them in your tiny white string bikini.

You were laughing at something one of them was saying. Shawn saw you reach out and briefly place your hand on his forearm.

Shawn was unprepared for the surge of violent irritation that nearly overtook him.

He saw you notice him. He bristled when you leaned in and said something in the other man's ear. He watched as you slid the temple tip of your sunglasses between your teeth. He saw you put your hand on your waist and slightly arch your back. He watched as you touched the small pendant of the necklace you were wearing and drew it away from the skin between your breasts.

Shawn hated the way the two men were looking at you. His stomach churned; his muscles tensed; his heart felt too tight in his chest. He couldn't take anymore.

Sidling up beside you, he wrapped his large hand around the nape of your neck, gently yet possessively.

“Oh, hi Shawn,” you said casually, shrugging out of his grip. “Meet my new friends, Chase and Evan.” You smiled at them, fluttering your eyelashes and biting softly on your lower lip.

“Boyfriend?” Chase asked.

“Oh no, Shawn and I are just friends.” You eased closer to Evan and reached out, meaning to touch the bracelet he was wearing, but before you could, Shawn grabbed your wrist.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” he gritted through a fake smile, pulling you away.

“Let go of me,” you snapped. He did, immediately. He never had nor would he ever do anything to physically hurt you.

Brian and Connor, having seen more than enough, hurried toward you. They made you and Shawn take a step back.

“What the hell is going on?” Connor exclaimed.

“(Y/n) is being childish,” Shawn growled.

Maybe you were, but you were upset, goddamn it. “Me?! Look who’s talking! You’re acting like a jealous boyfriend! You have no claim on me!”

“You’re both being childish!” bit Brian. “And you’re starting to cause a scene. Get over yourselves and fucking talk like adults. If you can’t, walk away,” he admonished.

Shawn ran a hand through his hair and tugged frustratingly on his curls before storming off.

Brian gestured for Connor to stay with you and he followed after Shawn.

“Why did you have to antagonize him?” Connor questioned.

You glared at him. “This is not my fault. Of course you’re on his side.”

“I am on no one’s side. You’re both at fault, and you fucking know it. Yeah, he’s kind of been an asshole, but you didn’t have to flirt with those guys so brazenly right in front of him.” Connor’s voice softened. “You know how he feels about you, (y/n). You should apologize.”

You were thoroughly abashed but still feeling stubborn. You turned on Connor and said, “I will when he does.”

You put your cover up back on, slipped into your sandals, and grabbed your clutch which held your wallet, your eReader, and your phone. You trusted Connor to bring everything else back to the bungalow for you.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“For a walk. I need to be alone.”

~ * ~

The sun was going down when you returned to the house.

When you walked in the door, Shawn, who had been sitting on the edge of the ottoman, stood, and approached you cautiously. He rubbed the back of his neck. “You were starting to worry us,” he said softly.

“I’m sorry. I needed some time to cool off and to think.”

“I’m just glad you’re safe.” His relief was palpable. He stepped even closer to you. “I’m sorry. For how I acted and what I said on the beach. It’s inexcusable.”

“I am, too. I should never have purposely tried to upset you.” You unconsciously reached out and ran your fingertips along the V of Shawn’s t-shirt. “That was the first time we’ve ever fought... I didn’t like it.”

He covered your hand with his, flattening your palm against his heart, which you could feel was beating quite quickly. “Come and have dinner. It’s time to stop thinking and start talking.”

He smirked and began walking backward, hand still over yours.

It was that smirk that set your heart thumping. You followed, curiously, anxiously.

On the back patio was a romantic table set for two, surrounded by tea lights and lit candles.

“Shawn? What’s going on?” you asked, breathlessly.

He crossed to the table and pulled one of the chairs out for you. “Sit, Love. Eat.”

“I don’t think I can.”

“What?” He felt as if his heart might break.

“Too many butterflies.” You softly bit your bottom lip.

“Oh,” he breathed.

“Can we talk first?”

“Of course.”

You walked over to and sat down on the outdoor sectional.

Shawn dropped down beside you with a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry, (y/n). I’ve been, well, an asshole seems to be the overall consensus. I shouldn’t have ditched you to spend so much time with Camila.”

“I know you’re close,” you said, “and I know it had been awhile since you’d seen her. I tried to be understanding.”

“No,” he interrupted, “this is on me. This was supposed to be our trip. You, Brian, Connor, and me.”

“D'Artagnan and the Three Musketeers,” you said in unison and you both laughed.

Shawn leaned closer you. “Do you want to know the truth?” he asked, as if it was the greatest secret he held, which, to him, it was. “She was talking me through my feelings for you.” He tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “She made it very clear to me that I was ‘estúpido’ for spending time with her instead of the person I should be, for talking through my feelings with her instead of with the one I really needed to talk with.”

“You have feelings for me?” you breathed, feeling your entire body flush, not just your cheeks.

Shawn laughed softly and took your hands in his, intertwining your fingers. “It’s not obvious? I was jealous of those other guys because I want to be the boyfriend. I want the right to call you mine... I’m falling in love with you, (y/n). Which is insane since we haven’t even kissed yet. It’s not that I haven’t wanted to; every time I see you I want to kiss you.”

Without warning, you pressed your lips to his. It took him not even a moment to respond, pulling you onto his lap and cupping your face. Kissing Shawn was even better than you had ever imagined it would be.

When finally you eased away from him, breathless, you confessed, “I’m falling in love with you too, Shawn. I want you to be mine. I want to be only yours.”

“Does that mean I can kiss you whenever I want to?” he whispered, grinning happily.

“Over and over and over again,” you breathed.

His lips once more met yours. Your hands encircled the nape of his neck. Tender and unhurried turned deep and delicious.

Your lips left his with an audible ‘aʘa’ and you giggled. “Can we eat now? I’m starving.”

Shawn’s answering laugh, rich and lightsome, was everything.

~ * ~

@mendesblurb @benito-mi-vida

[indianamoonshine]

Strawberry | Chapter 13 | Common Tongue

Summary: This chapter is titled after a Hozier song. Take that as you will.

Rating: M. If I see anyone minor interacting with this or hear of anyone reading it, I will block your ass.

TAG LIST: @t3a-bag @lumimon47 @dodgerandevans @hallway5 @dancingwiththeplanets @steeevienicks @orneryscandallousandevil @ficthots @gaiusfrakkinbaltar @reginagina-blog1 @loveme-tenderly @lastphoenixrising @rattlemyb0nes @rebellou @alljusthumans @gaiuswrites @lovecatsnotpeople @literallydontlook

“I’m a virgin,” you had said to him one night.

It meant nothing.

It meant nothing because, to him, you were the same with or without having slept with someone. Din knew that - had you chose him - it would be an honor. He would think no differently of you either way, and that even if the two of you never had sex, he was glad to have met you.

Now he thinks he may be addicted.

Part of him really wishes that you hadn’t gone this far; that the innocence would have lasted until whenever it was that he forced to leave. Because now he was in over his fucking head.

Behind the shed, you’d grabbed his hand and palmed yourself against the cotton of your underwear. The song of cicadas did a humbling job of masking your little pants or the way you whimpered beneath him. And, sure, Din did everything in his power to break traditional norms, but he wasn’t going to fuck you behind a shed for the first time. His heart broke when he separated himself from you and you whined underneath your breath in protest.

“Come on,” he huffed, lungs attempting to keep up. “Let’s go.”

|

Three minutes.

That’s how long it took to run from the main house to the cabin. Three goddamned minutes was a record. You don’t recall running that fast since becoming an adult. If your high school gym teacher has witnessed the velocity in which you just sprinted, she’d be amazed.

It was good old fashioned motivation.

Fortunately, Din’s barely taken his hands off of you so he managed to catch your clumsy ass when you tripped over the lip of the front door. The two of you had chuckled against the other before he asked, “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” you giggle. You place a hand upon your cheek in feign distress. “But I think I may need to lay down…”

Your tone, which is laced with suggestive demure, has Din raising a brow. “Oh yeah?” he growls.

You nod sweetly, lips still pressed against his. “Mm hm.”

|

You’re so goddamn beautiful.

When he presses you against the plushness of the sheets, he admires the way your hair fans about you and frames your face. Your cheeks are flushed and your lips plump from his kiss, the natural pout of them more pronounced now that he’s bitten and sucked at the flesh. The brilliance of your skin glows beneath the yellow light, neck joining the expanse of your bust which heaves with endurance. He kisses down your pulse point until he reaches the neck of his t-shirt.

His t-shirt.

“Can I?” he whispers against the hollow of your neck, fingering the edge of the fabric.

“Yes.”

|

You’ve never been this exposed to anyone other than the occasional friend (when changing) or your sisters (also when changing). It’s been so long since you’ve gone outside of yourself - into the very thick of reality - so when he asked if he could reveal you to it, the urgent “yes” surprised yourself.

Still - it’s another kind of anxiety; not violent, but in the way. When he’s stripped the shirt from your body - carefully, as though he were unwrapping a priceless antique - it’s a natural instinct to cover yourself, confident of the way you weren’t.

“Take all the time you need,” he whispers against the flesh of your neck. “I’m a patient man.”

It should’ve been enough and maybe in an alternate universe it was. Maybe that version of you threw all misogynistic beauty standards out the window into the night, but in this present day-in-age, you took a minute to go over the mental checklist. What if you weren’t to his standards? What was the situation like down there? What would you do if he wasn’t all that you decided him to be?

How long would it take to heal from that?

Before your mother died she took your hand and made you promise: I will do everything I can to feel joy, as fleeting as it may be. There are lessons to be learned. She’d made you chant it in a monkish way, as though preforming a ceremony in the sterility of a hospital room strung with cheap tinsel and a sad, plastic tree at her bedside. You’d understood what she meant then like the way a student might understand the components of Ancient Greek; not until it is utilized can its full potential make any sense at all.

The philosophers - and your mother - be onto something.

|

Something like a muffled version of his name slips lazily through your lips. And while it’s dissected, pulled apart with a lazy and tense breath, it’s the first time his name has sounded poetic. Din never thought of himself this way; that his person could ever inspire such an organic response as the way you unwound beneath him. He’s laid with women before - three, he thinks - but he’s not positive he’s ever experienced a woman before.

Xian was good at what she did and she knew it; Din wasn’t oblivious to that but it lacked a certain something. The other times his body has been weaved together with another’s was faceless; just hookups he’s tried so desperately to forget. Hazy nights in which he woke up to in the morning, their backs to him, and identity indistinguishable. Eventually he just stopped trying.

It wasn’t until now with your fingers clutching at his hair that he realized how the act - the very dance itself - could be purifying. How it could wash away the very worst of similar experiences and how it made something that always felt cheap now priceless. The body is a temple, his elders would always say, and it never made any sense to him. The body is a fortress made to withstand hurricanes and torpedos. It was no place to kneel, to worship, to inspire anything other than sheer refuge.

How ironic, as kneeling was the very thing he was doing now.

Irony wasn’t the word. Fateful, he supposes, as he tastes the fruit that’s always been so forbidden to him. Your thighs clench around his head and the fingers that have been stroking his hair grip the sheets, white knuckling the starched weave, until a gasp is caught in your throat. And then there is nothing but the pressure of ignition until it crumbles around you, fizzing the air with something akin to champagne bubbles.

There is no nasally whine that follows afterwards like there always had been before you. No wild “yes!” that pollutes the air. Just the instability of a weakened chest, the grasping at air, and the delicious feel of your hand enveloping his after having pulled it from your sex.

|

You weren’t a stranger to penetration though this was was with exceptions; no one had ever done anything to you with foreign or, well, domestic objects. At the age of eighteen, your friends at the time had dragged you to the building on the east end of town that never officially existed until legality said that it did. La Boudoir Rouge was the place ‘vodka aunts’ went to cure the blues, bought mysterious items, and then hid the pink bags in the back of their closets.

So, yes; sex was a foreign exchange policy you’ve never found yourself involved in, but you knew the dynamics. You’d bought equipment and even enjoyed it more than you’d initially expected. Penetration wasn’t at all strange to you.

This made it easier, you think, as Din finally slides in. There was a stretch of course, and it took you a moment to get comfortable enough to brave any movement. Din drops his forehead upon yours, letting out a strangled breath through his nose, as you struggle to come to terms with the size. He’d given off an energy but…

“It’s so big,” you gasp once he reaches the spongey part of you. It feels stupid, it falls short on a botched intake of breath, but it’s the truth.

Din’s composing himself, silent in his endeavor to mold himself within you. His arms are pressed on either side of you, body flush against yours with his pelvis meeting your pubic bone. There’s another moment of silence before he kisses at your temple.

“Are you okay?” he whispers.

A smile graces your lips, though your eyes are clenched. “That’s an understatement.”

|

The pace is fast, sweat inspiring. It drips down your neck until it falls in the valley of your breasts and Din wants so badly to lick it from your skin, but he’s too distracted by the way you clench around him. It’s ironclad - it’s the best goddamn pussy he’s ever had.

He wants to tell you that but he’s unsure of how you’d react. You’ve been letting out delicious gasps and moans reaching an octave you’d never reach sober, but not you’re coherently vocal enough for him to say it outright.

And then you breathe it in a pathetic whine: “It’s yours, Din. It’s yours.”

He almost stops, but his body is hellbent on seeing this through. Whatever the fuck this was; a spiritual experience maybe. Perhaps he’d died after the last mission - broken and buried underneath mounds of dirt - and now rests in paradise where he fucks his way through eternity.

A raw, animalistic response possesses him, the fistful of flesh from your hips is replaced by the swell of you cheeks. He embraces you softly, but sternly enough to incite a whimper.

“What was that, chica bonita, huh?”

You throw your head back as he slams his hips against yours with more force, the excitement conjuring a great wave of adrenaline coursing through his veins. You try to speak but it fails to materialize.

He was balls deep and you were still shy by your interjection.

“What’s mine, sweet girl?” he whispers, mouth tickling along your collarbones. The contrast of gentle words and barbaric thrusts is something he’s never experienced during sex. Ever.

You let out one more mouthwatering whine before saying: “My pussy is yours, Din. Take it. Please, please…”

|

Suffice to say, that’s what does it. The two of you cum at the same time, like a synchronized dance, clutching one another so tightly it leaves red ribbons. Your fingernails had dug into his forearms and his at your waist in which his hands wrapped around. He lets out a deep, broken growl as you whimper, shaking like a leaf, and he pulls out just in time to paint your belly with pearlescent threads.

He collapses on top of you, knocking the wind from your fragile body. You’re absolute jelly beneath him, crumbled into bits, and would never be the same. Let’s stay here forever, you want to tell him.

Din presses his face into the hollow of your neck, listening to the rapid pulse beneath flushed and thin skin. Then he kisses the blood flow beneath once, twice. “My gorgeous girl…”

Stay with me. Stay with me.

You wrap your arms - which have settled from the convulsions - around his neck and hug him tightly against you.

Don’t leave me. Don’t leave me.