#I will give you the world do NOT worry trust trust me

[novaursa]

Dragonbane

- Summary: You go to Rook's Rest instead of Rhaenys and the rest is history.

- Paring: male!cousin/Rhaenyra Targaryen

- Note: The reader is a son of Daemon Targaryen and bonded with Vermithor.

- Rating: Explicit 18+ (for graphic descriptions of blood, gore and death)

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround @literaturedog

The hall of the Painted Table is quiet, the air heavy with the weight of war and grief. You stand at its center. The carved map of Westeros gleams beneath your hands as you trace a finger over the land your house means to reclaim. Beside you, your wife, Rhaenyra, paces. Her hand twists the golden rings on her fingers, her face a storm of anger and worry.

“Send anyone else,” she says, her voice firm but tinged with desperation. “Anyone but you. My mother lost her life to childbirth, my father lost his life to his weakness, and now… you would have me lose my husband to a battle that isn’t even yours to fight.”

You meet her eyes, the violet flames within them threatening to consume you. “It is my battle,” you reply evenly. “It is ours. Every step they take against us, every insult, every drop of blood spilled — it is all ours to answer. Vermithor is the only dragon alive who can match Vhagar. This isn’t about bravery, Rhaenyra. It’s about strategy.”

She stops pacing, standing just a step away from you now. Her fingers curl into fists at her sides. “Strategy? Strategy would see you dead! Do you think Aemond will give you a clean fight? Do you think Sunfyre will hesitate to tear Vermithor apart, or that Vhagar’s rage can be controlled?”

You step closer, your hands reaching for hers. She doesn’t resist when you take them, though she stiffens beneath your touch. “Rhaenyra, my love,” you murmur, softening your voice. “Do you think I don’t understand your fear? Do you think I am eager for this? But Rhaenys cannot go. Meleys is fierce but no match for Vhagar and Sunfyre together. If we send her, we lose not only a dragon but the Queen Who Never Was. And what then? Our strength relies on the alliances we keep. If I do not go, who will?”

Her lips tremble, but she is too proud to let tears fall. “You would ask me to wait here, knowing you might not return?”

“I would,” you say, your own voice beginning to crack. “And I would ask you to trust me. Vermithor is not so easily defeated. Nor am I.”

A scoff interrupts the moment, and you turn to see Daemon standing by the edge of the Painted Table, his arms crossed. His smirk is sharp and cutting, though his eyes are shadowed by something deeper. “You’ve got fire in you, boy,” he says, nodding in approval. “But fire can burn too bright. Listen to your wife. There’s wisdom in what she says.”

You glare at him. “And would you go in my place, father? Or shall we send our cousins to fight their battles for them?”

Daemon’s smirk fades, replaced by a flash of anger. “Watch your tongue. I’ve fought my wars. This isn’t about me.”

“No,” you reply, stepping away from Rhaenyra. “It isn’t. It’s about what we stand to lose if no one dares to take the risk.”

Rhaenyra’s voice rises, cutting through the tension. “This is not a risk worth taking! You are my husband, the father of our children, the heir to your father’s legacy. I will not be left alone to face the Hightowers without you.”

You look at her, your resolve beginning to waver under her fierce gaze. “And what if I were to refuse? What if I stood by while another died in my place? What kind of man would you have me be, Rhaenyra?”

She doesn’t answer, her chest rising and falling with the force of her emotions. Finally, she shakes her head. “I would have you alive. That is all I ask.”

You step closer to her again, cupping her cheek in your hand. “I will come back to you,” you whisper. “I swear it.”

She closes her eyes, leaning into your touch for a brief moment before pulling away. “If you don’t,” she says, her voice breaking, “I will burn the world for you.”

The room falls silent, the only sound the crackling of the torches. Daemon’s gaze shifts between the two of you, but he says nothing.

Finally, you step back, your decision made. “Prepare Vermithor,” you say, your voice steady. “We leave at first light.”

Rhaenyra doesn’t try to stop you again. She turns and leaves the hall without another word, the weight of her silence heavier than any argument could have been. You watch her go, feeling the ache of what you might lose settle deep in your chest.

Daemon approaches, clapping a hand on your shoulder. “You’ve got guts,” he says quietly. “And gods willing, they won’t be spilled on the battlefield. Fly fast, strike hard, and don’t let them see your fear.”

You nod, your jaw tightening. “Fear has no place on dragonback.”

As you walk toward the doors, toward Vermithor and the battle to come, you feel the weight of your family’s legacy on your shoulders. The fear you won’t show burns in your veins, but so does the fire of the dragon you ride.

The wind roars around you as you soar high above the skies of Rook’s Rest. The faint shimmer of dawn outlines the horizon, casting a pale light over the smoke-streaked battlefield below. Screams and the clang of steel rise from the earth, but your focus is not on the chaos beneath. It is on the two monstrous shapes in the distance, silhouetted against the blood-red sky: Vhagar and Sunfyre.

Vermithor growls beneath you, a deep, guttural sound that vibrates through your saddle and bones. You tighten your grip on the reins, your other hand holding firm to your sword. “Steady,” you murmur. “They will come to us soon enough.”

And they do.

Sunfyre is the first to dive, his golden scales gleaming like molten fire in the light. His roar splits the sky, the sound sharp and youthful compared to Vermithor’s guttural response. You see Aegon, clad in his golden armor, urging his dragon forward, his lance raised high.

“Come on, you craven bastard!” you shout, leaning low over Vermithor’s neck. The Bronze Fury beneath you answers with a sudden surge of speed, his wings cutting through the air like knives. You feel the force of the wind nearly pull you from the saddle, but you hold firm, the adrenaline coursing through your veins.

The collision is violent. Sunfyre dives toward Vermithor, claws outstretched, but your dragon is older, wiser, and stronger. He twists at the last moment, slamming his massive tail into Sunfyre’s side. Aegon jerks in his saddle, clutching at his reins as Sunfyre shrieks in pain. Blood sprays through the air, bright and vivid, as Vermithor’s claws rake across Sunfyre’s golden scales.

"Is this the mighty king of Westeros?" you bellow, your voice carried by the wind. "Hiding behind a boy's dragon?"

Aegon’s response is drowned out by Sunfyre’s pained roars. Vermithor doesn’t relent. With a furious snarl, he lunges forward, sinking his teeth into Sunfyre’s neck. The golden dragon thrashes wildly, his tail lashing out and striking Vermithor’s side, but it’s not enough.

"Break him!" you command, gripping the reins tightly. Vermithor obeys with a brutal snap of his jaws. The sound of bone cracking echoes through the skies as Sunfyre’s neck is wrenched unnaturally to the side. Blood pours from the wound, a torrent of crimson that stains the golden dragon’s once-majestic scales. Sunfyre’s struggles weaken, his roars fading into gurgles, and then he falls, his body tumbling through the air like a broken doll.

Aegon screams, clutching desperately to his saddle as his dragon plummets. You don’t watch him hit the ground. Your attention is already shifting to the second threat.

Vhagar.

The ancient beast’s shadow falls over you like a stormcloud. Her roar is deafening, a sound that shakes the very heavens. Aemond sits astride her, his sapphire eye gleaming with malice as he points his blade at you.

“Did you think this would be easy?” Aemond calls, his voice cold and sharp. “You’ll find no victory here, cousin.”

“Come and claim it, then!” you shout back, spurring Vermithor forward. The two dragons close the distance in seconds, the clash of their bodies like thunder. Vermithor’s claws rake against Vhagar’s armored hide, tearing at the thick scales, while Vhagar snaps at Vermithor’s wings, her fangs narrowly missing the fragile membranes.

Aemond leans low, slashing out with his blade as you duck beneath the swing. “You’ll die screaming, like the traitor you are!” he snarls.

“You first!” you reply, swinging your own sword. The clang of steel on steel is lost in the chaos as the dragons spiral through the sky, locked in a deadly dance. Vhagar is larger, her sheer size giving her an advantage, but Vermithor is ferocious and unyielding, his age and experience matching her ferocity.

The sky becomes a blur of wings, claws, and blood. Vhagar’s tail slams into Vermithor’s side, sending you lurching in your saddle. You clutch at the reins, your heart pounding as you struggle to regain control. Vermithor roars in defiance, his jaws snapping at Vhagar’s throat. He manages to latch on, his teeth sinking into the tender flesh beneath her scales. Blood sprays, hot and sticky, coating you and your saddle.

Aemond yanks at Vhagar’s reins, pulling her away with a furious roar. “Kill him! Burn him to ash!” he commands. Vhagar rears back, her chest swelling as she prepares to unleash her flames.

“Dracarys!” you shout, and Vermithor answers. The two torrents of fire collide, the heat so intense it scorches the air around you. The force of the blast throws both dragons apart, their wings flailing as they struggle to stay aloft. You cling to the saddle, your vision blurred by smoke and ash.

And then it happens.

The two dragons charge at each other once more, their momentum unstoppable. They collide with such force that you feel the impact in your bones. Claws tear into flesh, teeth rip through scales, and blood rains from the sky in a crimson torrent. The screams of the dragons are deafening, a symphony of pain and fury.

You and Aemond are both thrown from your saddles as the dragons lock together, their massive bodies spiraling toward the ground. You hit the earth hard, the impact driving the air from your lungs. Pain radiates through your body, but you force yourself to your feet, your sword still clutched in your hand.

In the distance, Vermithor and Vhagar crash into the battlefield, their bodies a tangle of wings and limbs. Dust and debris rise around them, obscuring the scene. You stagger forward, determined to finish what you started.

Aemond emerges from the haze, his face twisted with rage. His sword gleams in the faint light, its edge coated in blood. “This ends here,” he growls, stalking toward you.

You raise your own blade, your grip steady despite the pain coursing through your body. “It does,” you reply, meeting his gaze. “But not the way you think.”

The two of you charge at each other, the clash of steel echoing through the battlefield as the dragons continue their brutal struggle behind you.

The clash of steel rings in your ears as you swing your blade at Aemond, his movements as sharp and calculated as your own. You’re both bloodied, sweat and grime mingling with the smears of red that coat your faces. The battlefield beneath your feet is slick with the lifeblood of men and dragons alike, a fitting stage for this deadly dance.

“You think you can kill me?” Aemond snarls, parrying your strike and stepping in close. His sapphire eye gleams with manic hatred. “I am a warrior, not a lord who hides behind his wife’s skirts. You are nothing but her puppet!”

The words sting, but they don’t shake your focus. “Better a puppet than a madman blinded by ambition,” you retort, sidestepping his thrust and slashing at his shoulder. Your blade connects, tearing through the leather and biting into flesh. Aemond grunts, staggering back, but his fury doesn’t waver.

Behind you, the guttural roars of Vermithor and Vhagar shake the earth. You spare a glance over your shoulder and see the two massive dragons locked in a death grip, their claws raking through each other’s flesh. Blood pours from gaping wounds in Vhagar’s side, painting her ancient scales a deeper shade of red. Vermithor, battered and bleeding, snaps his jaws around her throat, shaking her like a rabid beast. She thrashes, her wings beating wildly, but Vermithor doesn’t relent.

Aemond seizes the opportunity, lunging at you with a scream of rage. His blade slices through the air, catching your side. The pain is immediate, sharp and burning, and you cry out as blood seeps through your tunic. The wound slows you, but not enough to stop your counterattack. You raise your sword and swing upward, aiming for his head. He ducks, but your blade grazes his cheek, splitting the skin and sending a spray of blood across the ground.

“You’ll pay for that!” he roars, his voice unhinged. He charges again, driving you back with a flurry of brutal strikes. Each clash of your swords sends jolts of pain through your body, your wounded side weakening your defense. Aemond’s strength is relentless, and for a moment, it feels as though he might overpower you.

But you are not done yet.

With a desperate surge of energy, you twist your body, dodging his next strike and slamming the hilt of your sword into his ribs. He gasps, staggering, and you use the moment to close the gap. Raising your blade, you aim for his face.

He tries to block, but you’re faster. Your sword pierces his healthy eye, the blade sinking deep into the socket. His scream is inhuman, a sound of pure agony that echoes across the battlefield. Blood gushes from the wound, thick and dark, pouring down his face as he drops his sword and clutches at his ruined eye.

“You wanted to see the world burn,” you hiss through gritted teeth, twisting the blade. “Now you’ll see nothing at all.”

With a final thrust, you drive the sword deeper, the blade slicing into his brain. His body convulses violently, and then he falls to his knees, blood pouring from his eye and mouth. You wrench your blade free, and he collapses face-first into the dirt, his once-proud figure reduced to a lifeless husk.

The sound of Vhagar’s dying roar pulls your attention. You turn just in time to see Vermithor deliver the killing blow. His massive jaws clamp around her belly, tearing through scales and flesh to rip out her liver and entrails. The viscera spill onto the ground in a steaming, grotesque heap, the stench of blood and bile overwhelming. Vhagar’s massive body trembles, her wings twitching as she lets out a final, shuddering breath. Her eyes glaze over, and she slumps to the ground, defeated.

Vermithor stands over her, his bronze hide drenched in blood, his chest heaving with exertion. He lets out a victorious roar, a sound that shakes the heavens, before collapsing onto his haunches, his body trembling from his wounds.

You stagger forward, your own body screaming in protest. Blood drips from your side, your vision swimming as you take in the scene around you. The battlefield is chaos, but the tide has turned. The Hightower forces are in full retreat, their banners disappearing into the distance. Among them, you catch sight of Criston Cole, his armor smeared with blood as he flees with his men. The sight fills you with grim satisfaction.

But the victory feels hollow. The cost has been too high. It always is.

Your gaze shifts back to Vermithor, who watches you with weary, golden eyes. You place a trembling hand on his side, feeling the heat of his body and the steady rise and fall of his breath. “Rest, old friend,” you murmur, your voice hoarse. “You’ve earned it.”

Your thoughts drift to Rhaenyra, her face sharp and vivid in your mind’s eye. You promised her you would return, and you intend to keep that promise. Even now, as your body screams for rest and your wounds threaten to pull you under, you force yourself to move. Each step is agony, but you keep going, driven by the thought of her waiting for you.

You will return to her. You must.

And when you do, the war will not be over, but you will face it together.

[youraverageaemondsimp]

Metanoia ;

Aemond targaryen x Transmigrated!Strong!Reader

>> Chapter V : The Epiphany.

Summary: Aemond's been taking care of you since you fainted, at last you finally wake up.

WARNINGS: mdni, smut, unprotected p in v sex, canon typical incest, nothing too crazy, mentions of purity culture and customs, hymen breaking (reader's transmigrated body, this isn't specified for the body outside of the world), blood mentions, Aemond becomes a softie ig (cherish him y'all), + not proofread, please let me know if I forget anything else!

A/N: it's back!!! divider credits @cafekitsune

<- prev // masterlist // next ->

You blink open your eyes staring at the openview outside of the window, the sky beginning to darken.

It seems you've passed out once again. It's probably been a few hours. This body is extremely weak, you needed to do something about it.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn't hear the door open so you jump slightly when it slammed shut. Looking up, you see Aemond whose eye widened as he rushed over to you, dropping a rag of cloth and the bucket in his hand, causing the water in it to pour out. “How are you feeling?” He questions, grabbing your hand, checking your temperature and pulse.

“I am alright, how long have I been asleep?” You ask him.

“A week.”

That reply made your heart stop.

A week?

That long?

“Are you serious?” You ask and he nods, “Yes, we were all concerned and I thought—” He cups your face, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I thought you went into a long slumber again, but I thank the heavens you did not.”

Perhaps the last encounter with Aemond really pushed the limits.

“Did.. anything happen while I was asleep?” You ask once again, wanting to know what happened during your absence of consciousness. Aemond sighs. “Your mother and siblings have all returned to Dragonstone as there was an urgent matter at hand, they were unable to take you with them.”

“I see.” You furrow your brows, wondering why Viserys hasn't died yet. It has been a week, was his death gonna occur at any moment now? There was a deep feeling in your gut that something would happen soon.

Aemond sits on the bed, before pulling you into his embrace. “I apologise.” He mutters into your ear. “What for?” You ask confused, hugging him back. “It was because of me that you had fainted.” You could feel his breath hitting against the back of your neck as he spoke.

You pull away from the embrace, giving him a smile. “I am just weak.” You reply, in an attempt to tell him that it was not his fault. He smiles at you. Your eyes fall to the bucket on the ground before you look at him. “Have you been taking care of me?” You question and he nods, which makes you feel embarrassed.

“Why bother? The maids could've done it.” You shrug but he shakes his head. “I do not want anyone I do not trust near you when you are vulnerable.” He replies.

You just simply nod at his reply, feeling the silence fall between you two. The air turns cold causing shivers to travel up your spine. Aemond continues to stare at you, taking in your features.

Since your apology, it seems the environment and the atmosphere around you and Aemond has changed, you could feel it. The way his face blanketed on a worried expression, the longing in his eyes, you could see it. Something has definitely changed in him. And you did not know if it was for the better or worse.

He leans closer and you look into his eye, your heart accelerating as you anticipate him to lean. He does exactly that, he leans in, capturing your lips with his moving them in a slow manner, contrary to the first time you both shared a kiss.

Aemond seemed to have significantly warmed up to you now, it was one thing that you had fixed after coming into this world.

His hand travels to the back of your head as he pushes you further into the kiss, wanting to get closer to you; to seek your warmth. You couldn't help but melt into his hold, reciprocating the kiss as your hand reaches up to rest on the bend of his elbow.

He pulls away, panting heavily as he takes you in, the sight of his saliva glistening on your lips, the light of the candles around you bouncing off of the shine. He couldn't help but crave you more.

But he knew, he had to stop himself before he lost control, he shouldn't be taking your maidenhead without getting married, cause it is a part of your dignity. He respected you enough to consider this fact.

Yet, you were so irresistible, he felt like a feral animal, trying to lock his own desires in a cage. You do not know the effect you have on him. You couldn't help but notice that the environment had indeed turned a little tense and you knew exactly what he was thinking, his eye failing to hide his desire and craving for you.

And so, you took the initiative, not liking the way he was restraining himself from you. Had this been the Aemond from a week ago, he would've taken your maidenhood without mercy as a way to teach you a lesson, because he was a cruel man. But now that man is no more, replaced or rather, reformed into his younger self who loved you a lot.

You pushed him onto the bed, straddling him. His hair was sprawled out behind him like a halo, making him look like an angel that has descended from the heavens above.

He was taken aback by your bold move. His hands grabbed onto your hips for leverage as he felt you straddle him, your thighs on both sides of his legs as you sat on top of his crotch.

He felt embarrassed, feeling you shift on top of his crotch, his breeches meekly trying to conceal his hardening shaft like a lone leaf holding onto its branch against the strong wind.

It was futile, because you feel the outline of his cock quite clearly.

Your hands moved on their own accord, your body taking the lead like it always did. Perhaps the owner of this body is still inside somewhere, yet you could feel no one else's consciousness in your brain except yours. Maybe you are the—

The sound of clothes ripping cut you off from your thoughts and you realised that Aemond has ripped your nightgown by pulling it off your shoulder before he grabbed it with both his hands and tore it down the middle, exposing your breasts.

He grabbed onto them, his movements becoming bolder each second, as if he's slowly releasing the beast yet still trying to keep it tamed. His thumbs caressed your nipples, pressing against the hard nubs before he sat up, taking one of your breasts into his mouth.

He breathed out in satisfaction, suckling onto your areolas, his tongue swirling around the nub and flicking against it continuously before he'd suck on it, repeating this in a loop.

You felt yourself getting wet down there, so you rub yourself against him, trying to ease the ache in between your legs, but he holds you down, grunting before he lets go of your breasts with a pop.

He shakes his head lightly, “Are you sure about this?” He asks, and you nod desperately, your mind filled with the thoughts of just wanting his cock inside you, pushing out any rationality left in you.

“Please— Aemond.. I want you..” Those words leave your mouth voluntarily as you grab his shoulders tightly, indicating that you really mean it. You cup his cheek before catching his lips in a searing hot kiss.

Those words that left your mouth set the forest inside his heart ablaze, the fire of desire engulfing him in its warmth. The feral beast broke free and took control immediately.

He flipped you over, pushing you onto the bed, getting on top of you. He begins kissing your neck, sucking your sweet spot, leaving his marks, his teeth biting on your flesh as a way to claim you as his own.

He pulls away, panting heavily, immediately scrambling to undo his breeches, freeing his cock from the confines of the material. He pulled off his leather suit as well, the tunic following along with his tunic, hating the way the sweat was sticking to him.

You wouldn't help but admire the view in front of you. You spread your legs before he could say anything, hiking up your nightgown to reveal your cunt. Aemond's eye widened in surprise at your bold move, driving him crazy even more.

Aemond grabbed you by your thighs, pulling you forward as he lined himself against your entrance as he slowly pushed in. You winced when you felt a sudden heat of pain down there. His length penetrates you slowly.

He wanted to pull out the minute he saw blood, yet the darker side of him only felt motivated, knowing that he's taking your maidenhead. It drove him further off the edge.

You on the other hand only felt slight discomfort but your eyes widened when you saw blood.

Ah right, the hymen of women in this era is still intact as they're not that active for it to break off due to physical movement. So even the slightest penetration would lead you to bleed.

Basic biology, you shrugged it off, if only they knew. You felt annoyed, not agreeing with the custom this era practices.

Aemond settled fully inside you, his cock throbbing inside, the way your walls felt warm around him. Without a warning he began moving, which cut you off your thoughts when you felt yourself being jolted up and down, his thrusts starting off rough from the beginning.

‘That's right, focus on him for now.’ You tell yourself internally, gripping onto his shoulders, staring into his eye. Your hand reached upwards towards his eyepatch and he flinched away a little before he realised what you were doing.

You took the eyepatch off, revealing the sapphire that rested in his eye. You sat on your elbows, cupping his cheek as he leans in. You kiss him on the eye before kissing his cheek and finally kissing him on the lips.

He pushes you back onto the bed, not breaking the kiss and neither stopping his thrusts as he supports himself on his elbows kissing you with thirst desperately wanting to be quenched while simultaneously ramming into you.

You gasped when you felt him hit your sweet spot, making way for his tongue to slip past your lips, his tongue challenging yours in a battle of dominance.

You were losing it, of course, because his tip kept ramming and grazing against your gspot, pushing you to the edge. You gripped his back in desperation, your fingers leaving bites on his flesh.

And then, you felt it, the sudden shot of immense pleasure up your spine to the point it made you push your head back into the mattress as you gasped loudly into the kiss, whining directly into it. The pleasure blinded you temporarily as you convulsed around him.

He felt you clench and grip him tightly, which pushed him off the edge as well, he grunted, finishing inside you with a soft call of your name, it felt erotic, it felt comforting all at once.

Aemond wouldn't stop with just this one time, after all, he finally got the taste of what he craved the most. He continued all night, taking you all positions known to mankind, leaving you a moaning mess beneath him.

The night was wonderful, it was only when the sky began to turn into a lighter shade than darkness that he'd stop, collapsing next you and allowing you to rest in his arms.

You fell asleep soundly in his embrace. It was peaceful.

But, the peace wouldn't last for long.

The knocks on your chamber door were hurried and loud. Aemond grunted in his sleep, annoyed at the disturbance before waking up, you had woken up as well. He wrapped a cloth around his lower body before he went and opened the door, to find a panicked Alicent.

“Y/N— Aemond?” She's surprised to see Aemond, so many questions arise in her mind as she's processing the sight before her. She wanted to reprimand, but she could not because a lot was on her mind already.

“What is it, mother?” Aemond asks cooly, not bothered by her reaction. You hold the blanket to your chest, leaning sideways to try and catch a glimpse of Alicent, yet you only catch a sight of her dress and her dishevelled hair.

“Aemond your father— is dead.”

The words that left her mouth made your blood run cold. Aemond seemed just as shocked, remaining silent as he processed the information before he blinked. “And Aegon, he's gone.” She finishes.

Aemond immediately returns back into the room, putting on his breeches with haste before throwing on the tunic and rushing out of the room. Leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Viserys is dead.

Aegon is gone.

Fuck.

TAGLIST !!

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[fairyminnie444]

✨ the ultimate post u need to LET GO ✨

ok so what we KNOW and has already entered our heads:

i want it so I got it

circumstances DOES NOT matter

there’s no time to wait, it’s ALREADY done

“feeling is the secret” Neville Goddard

So why do we keep scrolling through tumblr, reddit, twitter to read more posts thinking that we will always find something more?

Because we are seeking reassurance, we might be subconsciously looking for validation or “proof” that your manifestation techniques are working or that you’re on the right path.

Each new post feels like it might hold the missing piece of the puzzle, even though you already have everything you need within you.

But the more you consume, the more your mind becomes overwhelmed, making it harder to trust your own intuition. Instead of clarity, constant scrolling can increase doubts and make you second-guess what you already know.

LETS BREAK THE CYCLE 🔁 ❎

✨ Set a Limit ✨

Give yourself a specific time frame for scrolling (e.g., 15 minutes). Once the time is up, redirect your focus to practices like visualization or affirmations or anything that make you FEEL your desire.

✨ Create Instead of Consume ✨

Shift your energy from seeking external input to producing something meaningful:

Write about what you already know (like I’m doing rn), If you don't want to post it just save it in your notes, draw it, make your vision board in Canva, etc.

LET IT GO, ITS DONE ✅

✨ Understand What “Letting Go” Means ✨

It doesn’t mean giving up on the desire, but rather stopping fighting the idea that it hasn’t arrived yet.

It’s trusting that the desire is already yours in 4D and that it will manifest in 3D, DEFINITELY. The world is a MIRROR of you inside.

✨ Strengthen Your Certainty ✨

Repeat to yourself:

“My desire is already mine, it is done.”

“I trust completely in the universe and my power.”

This trust helps you let go of control and stop looking for external evidence.

✨ Practice the Feeling of Already Having ✨

Close your eyes and imagine life as if the desire were already a reality.

Feel the joy, relief, and ease of already living it.

When you feel that you already have it, there is no need to “hold on” to the desire.

✨ Redirect Your Focus ✨

Instead of thinking about how or when, focus on living your life lightly.

Engage in hobbies, relax, enjoy the present, and trust that everything is moving in your favor.

✨ Observe Your Thoughts Without Attachment ✨

When thoughts like “what if it doesn’t happen?” arise, acknowledge them without holding on to them:

Say to yourself: “I see that thought, but I know it’s not true.”

✨ Trust the Intelligence of the Universe ✨

Remember: you don’t need to know how things will happen. The universe (or your subconscious mind) is already orchestrating everything to deliver you the best possible way.

Affirm: “Everything is always working out perfectly for me.”

✨ Gratitude in Advance ✨

Be grateful as if you already have the desire. Gratitude is a powerful way to let go:

“I’m so grateful that this is already mine. Thank you, universe.”

Letting go is a conscious choice to trust the process, because you already know it is yours. It is not about “forgetting” about the desire, but about stopping worrying about it. Live your life as if everything is already resolved, and the universe will mirror this certainty in your 3D.

[loganhowlettshousewife]

lazy mornings and the proposal

animal - bonus headcanons

friendly reminder that i am not a writer, i'm just a girl who loves logan howlett and wanted to write something exploring his animalistic side since i so rarely see it done. my first language is also not english, so please do not be rude when giving me any feedback.

i wanted to let everyone know that even with the epilogue coming out soon and the series being officially over, i'm still not ready to let go of these two. so if you have any ideas or prompts or questions about feral!logan feel free to submit an ask!

warnings: mentions of sex, light sweat kink (oops)

series masterlist │my masterlist

there’s nothing better than a lazy morning with logan, staying in bed long past sunrise, chasing the warmth that can be found in each others arms. it’s rare, these days, now that he’s gotten a job as a lumberjack and has to be up fairly early most mornings for work, making sure to wake you before he leaves, kissing you deeply and reminding you that he loves you. gone are the days where the two of you would stay home together, locked in your own little world with no one to bother you.

he’d wanted - no, he’d needed, really- to get a job. it gave him something to do with his days, a purpose other than stalking your every move, following behind you like a shadow as you went about your day. it’s a distraction, and a welcome one, one that gives him the opportunity to be a more balanced version of himself, to find peace and trust that you aren’t going to disappear if he leaves you out of his sight for more than a few seconds.

he brings home a decent paycheck, much more than you were making by selling the extra produce from your garden. it’s unnecessary, everything you own had once belonged to your grandparents and has long been paid off, but it’s nice to have the extra cash, to be able to go into town with logan and splurge on expensive alcohol for him and gorgeous new dresses for you.

he’s good at what he does, hacking away at wood with his unnatural strength given to him by his mutation. he’s the best at what he does, to the point where you occasionally worry it’s become too obvious that he’s not like the others, but he always comes home safe.

the smell of wood and sweat cling to him like a second skin and you bury your face in his neck, understanding his obsession with doing the same to you, loving the way the smell of him surrounds you, makes you feel like he’s the only thing in the world. maybe it should be gross, he’s exerted himself all day and is covered by the proof of it, but there’s something about it that makes you melt into him every time.

he takes off his muddy shoes and picks you up, ignoring your squeal of protest at the unexpected gesture, smirks when you wrap your legs around his waist. he brings you into your bedroom to take the stress of his day out on your body or into the bathroom where you run your hands over his bare skin and wash away anything that isn’t your loving touch. either way, the tension leaves him the moment he’s returned to you, able to recognise that you’re safe.

you love the life you’ve built, the ease and comfort of it, and yet those lazy mornings, so few and far between, are still your favourite. the days where logan doesn't have to go into work and you push back your daily chores for later because you would much prefer to stay snuggled up in bed, laughing as he kisses your neck and bare shoulders, twinning your arms around his neck to pull him closer.

the night he proposes starts off like any other. he returns home from work to the smell of dinner in the oven, takes you apart under the warm stream of water from the showerhead beating down on your skin, lets you wash away the grime from his body and dig your hands into the tense muscles of his back, massaging away the day’s activities. he melts into you, letting you care for him in a way he’d never let anyone else, and you smile beatifically.

when you exit the shower, it’s to the sound of the oven timer going off, announcing that the dinner you’d prepared for the two of you is ready. you hardly notice when logan doesn’t follow you out of the bathroom and into the kitchen as usual - some days he returns from a long day on the job and refuses to leave your side, on others he needs moments of solitude peppered in to keep the overstimulation at bay.

he stops in your shared bedroom as you plate the food, giving logan double your portion size as usual.

his body requires more energy to function, his healing factor taking a lot out of him. it’s not something logan ever noticed, since he doesn’t bother to worry about his own health most of the time, but you see the way it affects him when he doesn’t eat the way he should. it’s horribly taxing on his body, making his veins protrude from his skin in harsh lines, a reminder that no matter how easy it is to ignore it when looking at his muscular and imposing stature, his body is still starving.

you’ve made it your mission to feed him, and so you narrow your eyes into a glare until he finishes his plate, leaning over afterwards to kiss the annoyance from your lips, muttering praises and thanks that have your skin tingling and face feeling hot. 

he’s healthier now, a layer of fat covering his muscles, a softness to his body that wasn’t there before. it’s something you pride yourself on, the knowledge that you’re taking good care of him.

he doesn’t talk much throughout dinner, though he never does. you tell him about the latest book you’ve started reading, going back and forth on whether or not you’re truly enjoying it, complaining about the characters personalities while raving about the writing style. it makes logan smile, watching you be so passionate.

he gives you a few vague sentences about his day at work when you press him about it. “it’s not that interesting,” he says, the same excuse he gives every day. occasionally, he’ll have some gossip to share about the men he works with, his enhanced hearing allowing him to listen to their conversations without being forced to partake in them, but not today. “would much rather listen to you talk, darlin’.”

with desert in front of you and a peaceful lull in they conversation he takes your hand, kisses the back of it with his slightly chapped lips before getting down on one knee and pulling out the ring he’d bought a few weekends ago while you perused the farmer’s market stalls. it’s not big or flashy, the night is hardly out of the ordinary in any way, but it’s perfect. your eyes prick with tears that you attempt to hold back but fall anyway the moment you blink.

this is what makes yours and logan’s relationship, the understanding that there’s no need to be anything but yourselves, that as long as he’s here promising to love you forever, pleading you to do the same, there’s nothing else that could come close to matching the joy in your heart as you say yes.

taglist: @mystiquesvendetta @raeinyourdreams @babey-fruit-bat @meetmypointlessaddiction @kneelforloki @deaky-with-a-c @hypermarvellove @littlepeanut03 @the-ruler-of-death @aliengutzstuff @misscrissfemmefatale @mynamesstevenwithav @teaganthemorningstar @blackkatzz @leryg0 @fries11 @forksloree @i5uckersblog @dragovegogrimborn @quillycrow @melday0105 @just-a-little-cellist @scorpiosaintt @akasha157-blog @insanesosciopath @eridektbh @trickstergabriel69 @lord-bingus666

[atangledfate]

Lanolin watched Sonic, Belle and Kit enter, with Sonic leaning against a wall, and Kit finding a place to sit. She rubbed the back of her neck looking to Blaze with unsure eyes. It stood to reason that GUN had its network of spies. Two people knew all about Belle outside of the people who worked here. It was easy to assume Rouge and Shadow had given all kinds of reports to GUN though she liked to believe Rouge wouldn't have given those kinds of details.

" It could have been anyone, Both shadow and rouge work for GUN and had full access to this information. But even if we say they wouldn't do that--- plenty of volunteers come and go through the workshop. Any one of them could have overheard her, or us talk about it. Or they could have gained information from the eggnet itself... how isn't important right now. The fact is they know and she's on there radar... honestly this was bound to happen eventually. I think we all knew that... "

Sonic looked at Belle flexing his hands with that anger flashing across his face again. He wasn't gonna let anyone get to Belle, and he'd die before he let them take her. But Belle was right running from GUN was probably the last thing she wanted. This was a mess and worse, it wasn't the kind of mess he could punch away. Eggman was easy to deal with but GUN? Politics sucked! But his eyes went to Kitsunami and he couldn't help but worry how he'd react to Surge's plans, damn how was he gonna do this? His eyes shifted to Rowan as he came back and he smiled!

" Hah! well ring tail! you are doing better then most! you wouldn't believe how many can't hold it down! so kudos to you! "

His thoughts broke as Miles finally made his way up stairs, and Sonic and he shared a fist Bump. At least his mood seemed 10 shades brighter as if the fox mellowed him out. His eyes turned to Lanolin as she got everyones attention now that Miles was there.

" Alright... guess that is everyone but Surge--- Here is the situation! The United Federation of Nations president has personally spoke with me. He's made his stance clear... he sees Restoration as a rogue element... it was fine at first they even commended our work. But taking in Surge, Kitsunami, and Belle seemed to set of red flags. Clutch's deception only cemented there stance... "

" The President ants to shut us down until a full investigation can be performed. It's likely he intends to arrest Surge, and Kitsunami... i can't say what his intent with Belle is yet. The point is... if we fight back we become enemies of the the free world... enemies of gun and we prove them right! I don't trust them either... i doubt Amy would... I think we have to play there game... I don't see another way out of this that doesn't get people killed and our donations cut for good... "

She sighed and rubbed her own cheek looking at Belle and Kit specifically.

" Belle, Kitsunami and Surge i get it if you want to cut and run... i won't stop you. But this ... this is the only choice we have to keep our work going... no matter what i feel about you both, and i've come to see you as friends. I have to look out for the well being of the organization... our work is to important... i hope you understand..."

Sonic let out a deep breath through his nose, he somehow ventured this was the outcome. He hated every word Lanolin said! She was just gonna give up like that? and what let them come in and shut it all down! or worse take control? this was bullshit!

" Oh come on Lanolin you can't be serious! Those guys will make up what ever story they want! just let surge and i kick there butts! and send them packing! "

" No Sonic, she's right... Restoration relies heavily on donations and volunteers. If the United Federation of Nations declares us an enemy of the state or terrorists. We'd lose all funding, and worse people would be to afraid to help out. If we fight we lose, if they come in we still lose but at least there is a chance to fight it in court, or argue our side of things... logically speaking its a risky move but... if we fight we defiantly lose..."

Miles looked over at Belle with a sad look

" It might also be a chance for Belle to finally argue her case to the people and be accepted as a citizen... but, they could also dismantle her or lump her in with eggman. This is a big risk for all parties... especially surge, Kitsunami and belle... they have a tough choice to make..."

" Well, we chaotix have always remained free lance--- but ifin' they do come in and investigate. We can do our own investigation... least have our own evidence to use against them... but as someone who grew up in the hood--- If they gots the right judge you ain't ever gonna win that case... you all sure you wanna go down that road? "

" I know this is bad but ... unless anyone has better plan... i'm out of options... and the clock is ticking. I don't want anyone hurt... we all came together to fight eggman, not the goverment. I just--- i'm open to ideas... its why i called you here... "

"Though from what I know you concealed Belle's creator besides a select few, and I believe given how different her design is only someone used to fighting Badniks could put together who she was made by. In that sense, the mole either has to be one of the volunteer soldiers that's been here a while, or someone in the inner circle." Blaze was more concerned why go after Belle. She's never been seen with Eggman, or his forces. As far as they're concerned she's just an advanced robot living her life.

"I have doubts they'd take it that far, if only because did warn Lupus that attack me is like declaring war against the Sol Empire." It was a scare tactic, though an effective one as she was sure he mentioned it to the president. "If we have too I can simply move Belle, Surge, and Kitsunami to the Sol Dimension and bring them back some place else."

"I don't think Surge or Kitsunami would like that idea very much. I'm not opposed to it, even if I don't want to runway and stand my ground I'm sure that'd be a good idea. Though perhaps convincing them to leave me alone would be better in the long run." Belle was only offering her ideas as she entered the room right after Sonic. The tinkerer didn't want GUN breathing down her neck for the rest of her life.

Rowan would walk back in, looking a bit annoyed. "You know, you could've just asked me to leave for a second to talk to her. I've never moved at high speeds and nearly threw up my lunch." The lemur guessed he was being pushy, though was also trying not to come off too strong. Guess he needs to work on that a bit more, though there are certainly a lot of people her now.

A moment later Kitsunami would walk in, not saying a word to anyone before finding a chair and sitting down. The fennec never expected Surge to be here, sure she was out by the check point as a warning for GUN not to try anything. The tenrec wants him to keep the inside of the base safe so that's what he's going to do. Only intending to assist her if she calls him.

[mysticwolfshadows]

Taken - Zutara - Part 65

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The morning of the invasion, they find Aang's tent empty. Momo and his glider are gone. No one had seen him since he flew off to meditate the night before.

What's worse, they had no time to look before an artificial fog rolled in and the invasion force arrived.

There were a dozen Southern sailing ships, half a dozen of the Norths dual haul platforms, and about two dozen reinforced Earth Kingdom ferries. In addition, Zuko's old ship was flanked by two Fire Nation cruisers, and five of Sokka's 'submarine' inventions.

The gathered forces were massive, gathering and filling the beach. There were people from all over, making a sea of blues and greens and reds. And in that sea, three men emerged. Katara's father, General How, and Zuko's uncle.

"Katara," her father said, wide eyed and anxious. He hadn't seen her since the night he left.

"Not now," she said, glancing past them to the gathered forces. "We need a word."

Murmers and whispers rose up amongst the gathered forces. They didn't have time to focus on that, instead pulling the men equivalent to the three main generals where they could talk privately.

"Aang is missing," Sokka said, once Toph was sure they wouldn't be overheard. "We found out this morning."

"What?!" General How growled. "The Avatar, the head of this entire operation, is just... gone?"

"Twinkle Toes wasn't really the head of anything," Toph scoffed. "Snoozles, Sparky, Honey, and Sweetness were the people actually making plans."

The three adults blinked, like she was speaking an ancient language. Katara couldn't blame them.

"It's to late to back out now, and the invasion can still work," Katara said, turning to Iroh. "We just need someone to take Aang's place."

Zuko took a deep breath, before speaking. "Uncle, will you take the Avatar's place? When the eclipse ends, you're the only other person that could defeat him."

"No," Iroh said, making everyone gape at him. He shook his head, calm as could be. "While I am flattered, I am not as in my prime as I once was. I do not know if I could defeat Ozai, as I could decades ago. And even if I could, the world would only see it as more senseless violence, a brother killing a brother, in a bid for power." Pausing, he looked around at them all. "We must push forward. The Avatar will be where he is needed, when the time is right. We must trust in that."

General How looked dubious, but her father nodded.

"It's to late to back out now," her father said, reaching out to place a hand on Zuko's shoulder. "And, if the Avatar doesn't return... I know that you will do what needs to be done. You're a good man. Strong warrior. The Southern Tribe will always fight alongside you."

Zuko swallowed, giving the man a bow. "You honor me, Chief Hakoda."

"No, Prince Zuko. The honor is mine." Turning, her father eyed the all. "So... Ready to present the invasion plans?"

Sokka swallowed, but nodded. They were heading back, Sokka with an arm full of maps and notes, Zuko right beside him. But as Katara turned to follow, her father grabbed her shoulder.

"Katara, can we talk a moment?"

She thought about saying no. About pushing past to join the others. But this was the first time she had seen her father in almost two years.

"What is it, dad?"

He smiled, looking her over. "After everything you've been through, I thought I would be worried about you returning to the Fire Nation, but I know that Sokka and Zuko would take care of you. I'm glad you're here. That you're going to be fighting alongside us. And before we left, I wanted to tell you how proud I am of you."

Feeling a smile tugging at her own lips, Katara reached out, wrapping her arms around her father. "Thank you."

He squeezed, holding her close. "And Iroh told me about how much closer you and Zuko have gotten. And if he hurts you, I don't care if he's the Fire Lord, he's a member of the tribe and he'll be punished like one."

"Dad!" She pulled back, slapping her father's shoulder, only to get a chuckle in return.

First / Previous / Next / Masterpost

[dangaer]

these are some of the most gorgeous cards ever rip 🥹

[acourtofquestions]

"I didn't break," she said quietly. His heart cracked at the words. "I didn't tell them anything."

She didn't say it for praise, to boast. But rather to tell him, her consort, of where they stood in this war. What their enemies might know.

"I knew you wouldn't," he managed to say.

"She ... she tried to convince me that this was the bad dream. When Cairn was done with me, or during it, I don't know, she'd try to worm her way into my mind." She glanced around the cave, as if she could see the world beyond it. "She spun fantasies that felt so real..." She bobbed under the surface. Perhaps she'd needed the cooling water of the lake to be able to hear her own voice again; perhaps she needed the distance between them so she could speak these words. She emerged, slicking back her hair with a hand. "They felt like this."

Half of him didn't want to know, but he asked, "What sort of illusions?"

A long pause. "It doesn't matter now."

Too soon to push—if ever.

Then she asked softly, "How long?"

It took the entirety of his three centuries of training to keep the devastation, the agony for her, from his face. "Two months, three days, and seven hours."

Her mouth tightened, either at the length of time, or the fact that he'd counted every single one of those hours apart.

She ran her fingers through her hair, its strands floating around her in the water. Still too long for two months to have passed. "They healed me after each ... session. So that I stopped knowing what had been done and what was in my mind and where the truth lay." Erase her scars, and Maeve stood a better chance at convincing her none of this was real. "But the healers couldn't remember how long my hair was, or Maeve wanted to confuse me further, so they grew it out." Her eyes darkened at the memory of why, perhaps, they had needed to regrow her hair in the first place.

"Do you want me to cut it back to the length it was when I last saw you?" His words were near-guttural.

"No." Ripples shivered around her. "I want it so I can remember."

What had been done to her, what she'd survived and what she had protected.

Even if the woman treading water before him didn't seem to have vengeance on her mind. Not so much as a hint of the burning rage that fueled her.

He didn't blame her. Knew it would take time, time and distance, to heal the internal wounds. If they could ever really heal at all.

But he'd work with her, help in whatever way he could. And if she never returned to who she had been before this, he would not love her any less.

Aelin dunked her head, and when she emerged, she said, "Maeve was about to put a Valg collar around my neck. She left to retrieve it." The scent of her lingering fear drifted toward him, and Rowan lurched a step closer to the water's edge. "It's why I—why I got away. She had me moved to the army camp for safekeeping, and I ..." Her voice stalled, yet she met his stare. Let him read the words she could not say, in that silent way they'd always been able to communicate. Escape wasn't my intention.

"No, Fireheart," he breathed, shaking his head, horror creeping over him. "There ... there was no collar."

She blinked, head angling. "That was a dream, too?"

His heart cracked as he struggled for the words. Made himself voice them. "No—it was real. Or Maeve thought it was. But the collars, the Valg presence ... It was a lie that we crafted. To draw Maeve out, hopefully away from you and Doranelle."

Only the faint lapping of water sounded. "There was no collar?"

Rowan lowered himself to his knees and shook his head. "I—Aelin, if I'd known what she'd do with the knowledge, what you'd decide to do-"

He might have lost her. Not from Maeve or the gods or the Lock, but from his own damned choices. The lie he'd spun.

Aelin drifted beneath the surface again. So deep that when the flare happened, it was little more than a flutter. The light burst from her, rippling across the lake, illumining the stones, the slick ceiling above. A silent eruption. His breathing turned ragged. But she swam toward the surface again, light streaming off her body like tendrils of clouds. It had nearly vanished when she emerged.

"I'm sorry," he managed to say. Again, that angle of the head. "You have nothing to be sorry for." He did, though. He'd added to her terror, her desperation. He'd— "If you had not planted that lie for Maeve, if she had not told me, I don't think we'd be here right now," she said.

He tried to rein in the twisting in his gut, the urge to reach for her, to beg for her forgiveness. Tried and tried.

She only asked, "What of the others?" She didn't know-couldn't know how and why and where they'd all parted ways. So Rowan told her, as succinctly and calmly as he could.

When he finished, Aelin was quiet for long minutes.

She stared out into the blackness, the rippling of her treading water the only sound. Her body had nearly lost that freshly forged glow.

Then she pivoted back toward him. "Maeve said you and the others were in the North. That you'd been spotted by her spies there. Did you plant that deception for her, too?"

He shook his head. "Lysandra has been thorough, it seems."

Aelin's throat bobbed. "I believed her." It sounded like a confession, somehow.

So Rowan found himself saying, "I told you once that even if death separated us, I would rip apart every world until I found you." He gave her a slash of a smile. "Did you really believe this would stop me?'

She pursed her mouth, and at last, those agonizing emotions began to surface in her eyes. "You were supposed to save Terrasen."

"Considering that the sun shines, I'd say Erawan hasn't won yet. So we'll save it together."

He didn't let himself think of the final cost of destroying Erawan. And Aelin seemed in no hurry to discuss it, either, as she said, "You should have gone to Terrasen. It needs you."

"I need you more." He didn't balk from the stark honesty roughening his voice. "And Terrasen will need you, too. Not Lysandra masquerading as you, but you."

A shallow nod. "Maeve raised her army. I doubt it was only to guard me while she was away."

He'd put the thought aside, to consider later. "It might just be to shore up her defenses, should Erawan win across the sea."

"Do you truly think that's what she plans to do with it?"

"No," he admitted. "I don't."

And if Maeve meant to bring that army to Terrasen, to either unite with Erawan or simply be another force battering their kingdom, to strike when they were weakest, they had to hurry. Had to get back. Immediately. His mate's eyes shone with the same understanding and dread.

Aelin's throat bobbed as she whispered, "I'm so tired, Rowan."

His heart strained again. "I know, Fireheart."

He opened his mouth to say more, to coax her onto land so he might at least hold her if words couldn't ease her burden, but that's when he saw it.

A boat, ancient and every inch of it carved, drifted out of the gloom.

"Get back to shore." The boat wasn't drifting—it was being tugged. He could just barely make out two dark forms slithering beneath the surface.

Aelin didn't hesitate, yet her strokes remained steady as she swam for him. She didn’t balk at the hand he extended, and he wrapped his cloak around her while the boat ambled past.

But Aelin turned toward them, hair dripping onto the stone at her bare feet. Half a thought from her could have had her dry, yet she made no move to do so. "We're being hunted."

"We know that," Lorcan shot back, and were it not for the fact that Aelin was currently allowing him to rest a hand upon her shoulder, Rowan would have thrown the male into the lake.

But Aelin's features didn't shift from that graveness, that unruffled calm. "The only way to the sea is through these caves." It was an outrageous claim.

"And I suppose they told you that?" Lorcan's face was hard as granite.

"Watch it," Rowan snarled. Fenrys indeed bared his teeth at the dark-haired warrior, fur bristling. But Aelin said simply, "Yes." Her chin didn't dip an inch. "The land above is crawling with soldiers and spies. Going beneath them is the only way."

Elide stepped forward. "I will go." She cut a cold glance toward Lorcan. "You can take your chances above, if you're so disbelieving." Lorcan's jaw tightened, and a small part of Rowan relished seeing the delicate Lady of Perranth fillet the centuries-hardened warrior with a few words. "Considering the potential pitfalls of the situation is wise."

"We don't have time to consider," Rowan cut in before Elide could voice the retort on her tongue. "We need to keep moving. Gavriel stalked forward to study the moored boat and what seemed to be bundles of supplies on its sturdy planks. "How will we navigate our way, though?"

"We'll be escorted," Aelin answered.

"And if they abandon us?" Lorcan challenged. Aelin leveled unfazed eyes upon him.

"Then you'll have to find a way out, I suppose." A hint-just a spark-of temper belied those calm words. There was nothing else to debate after that.

And they had little to pack. The others gave Aelin privacy to dress by the fire while they inspected the boat, and when his mate emerged again, clad in boots, pants, and various layers beneath her gray surcoat, the sight of her in clothes from Mistward was enough to make his gut clench.

No longer a naked, escaped captive. Yet none of that wickedness, that joy and unchecked wildness illuminated her face.

The rest of their party waited on the boat, seated on the benches built into its high-lipped sides. Fenrys and Elide both sat as seemingly far from Lorcan as they could get, Gavriel a golden, long-suffering buffer between them.

Rowan lingered at the shore's edge, a hand extended for Aelin while she approached. Each of her steps seemed considered—as if she still marveled at being able to move freely. As if still adjusting to her legs without the burden of chains.

"Why?" Lorcan mused aloud, more to himself. "Why go to these lengths for us?"

He got his answer—they all did—a heartbeat later. Aelin halted a few feet away from the boat and Rowan's outstretched hand. She turned back toward the cave itself. The Little Folk peeked from those birch branches, from the rocks, from behind stalagmites. Slowly, deeply, Aelin bowed to them. Rowan could have sworn all those tiny heads lowered in answer.

A pair of bony grayish hands rose above a nearby rock, something glittering held between them, and set the object on the stone.

Rowan went still. A crown of silver and pearl and diamond gleamed there, fashioned into upswept swan's wings

"The Crown of Mab," Gavriel breathed. But Fenrys looked away, toward the looming dark, his tail curling around him.

Aelin staggered a step closer to the crown. "It—it fell into the river."

Rowan didn't want to know how she'd encountered it, why she'd seen it fall into a river. Maeve had kept her sisters' two crowns under constant guard, only bringing them out to be displayed in her throne room on state occasions. In memory of her siblings, she'd intoned. Rowan had sometimes wondered if it was a reminder that she had outlasted them, had kept the throne for herself in the end.

The grayish hand slipped over the rock's edge again and nudged the crown in silent gesture. Take it.

"You want to know why?" Gavriel softly asked Lorcan as Aelin strode for the rock. Nothing but solemn reverence on her face. "Because she is not only Brannon's Heir, but Mab's, too."

A throwback to her great-great-grandmother, Maeve had taunted her. Who had inherited her strength, her immortal lifespan.

Aelin's fingers closed around the crown, lifting it gently. It sparkled like living moonlight between her hands.

My sister Mab's line ran true, Elide claimed Maeve had said on the beach. In every way, it seemed.

But Aelin made no move to don the crown while she approached him once more, her gait steadier this time. Trying not to dwell on the unbearable smoothness of her hand as it wrapped around his, Rowan helped her aboard, then climbed in himself before freeing the ropes tethering them to the shore.

Gavriel went on, awe in every word, "And that makes her their queen, too."

Aelin met Gavriel's gaze, the crown near-glowing in her hands. "Yes," was all she said as the boat sailed into the darkness.

[doctorweebmd]

look i think the thing people forget is that My Hero Academia is not a typical shounen. Its purposeful. Its well written. Horikoshi does not DO throw away plot-lines. He doesn't ignore plot holes. Over the past 10 years he has proven, time and time and TIME again that this is an incredibly thought out, narrative-driven brilliant story that has taken popular tropes and preconceptions and turned them on their head.

Have a little faith.

[sylhea-raemi]

and what if nero thinks of himself as a tool for the three magicians he knew for a decade. what if he only limits as himself as a pawn, what if that's why he so easily threw himself as a sacrifice to protect his friends.

[dutybcrne]

Diluc likes to personally do the repairs and maintenance to not only his own weapon, but especially those of his most important people. He would always insist on personally handling Kaeya, later Jean's, weapons, throughout their time as Knights together, and even to this day gets salty if he happens to see either or even their weapons alone at Wagner's.

[thatsdemko]

inexperienced? - o.piastri

masterlist | pairing: Oscar piastri x Norris!fem!reader. summary: in which a little joke takes a hit on you, and you prove to your brother that you do in fact, get it. warnings: mentions of sex + 18+ content + some soft fluff a/n: I’m back! so so happy to have something out xx ps please don’t do this I’m sure that this wouldn’t go so well with your family xx

your cheeks are a deep red hot and you’re sure the moisture forming on the back of your neck is from the sheer embarrassment right now.

“what?” Lando laughs, your sisters cracking up alongside him, “I’m sure the only thing those two do is vanilla at this point, we don’t have to worry about osc and y/n ever having a kid.” the laughter that spews out of him brings tears in his eyes but only brings you embarrassment as you sink further into your seat.

the conversation deterred rather quickly. it was a family dinner—a rare one to be specific—where your mother announced she’d found a few gynecologists for you to visit if you were to continue to see Oscar. Lando busted into a fit of laughter that you were sure he’d choke if he didn’t stop.

it wasn’t that you and Oscar weren’t exploring each other— because that would be a lie you definitely were, but you were taking your time. Oscar was your first serious boyfriend, and he was very serious about making sure you were comfortable with whatever were to come next.

“I’m sure osc has never even had sex. he’s got an innocence to him.” your sister snickers, but your mind is playing all the dirty moments it can of Oscar being nothing but innocent.

he was shy, always had been and even when it came to bedroom activities. you both never pushed each other beyond what you wanted and it was always sweet how nervous he got. it was like you weren’t alone in the first timers pool.

“do you guys do anything like that?” lando asks out of sheer curiosity, but he doesn’t realize you’d left the table. you’d snuck out of the laughing fits and into the living room far away from them.

“oh y/n! we are joking!” your sister hollers from the other room, “give us all the piastri babies in the world!”

—

“that really happened?” Oscar’s voice is hoarse in your ear. his heartbeat pounding against your shoulder, you can hear his uneven breathing pattern as his pushes himself against you.

“it was so embarrassing.” you grumble as you turn into his body and allow him to hold you like he always does.

“what did lando say? all we do is vanilla?”

“he knows im a virgin.” you reply in your brothers defense, and while you have no previous context of what vanilla is, you’d say that these activities you both do were far from that.

“not anymore are you.” Oscar reminds you with a nibble on your earlobe, “it doesn’t grow back, once it’s gone, it’s gone.”

your body shivers against him, “I don’t think it counts if I come in the first thrust.”

“it does count, but we can work on that.”

your first time was special. after many months of working on trust and definitely not laughing at each other in awkwardness, he finally set up candles and rose petals around his apartment. he did whatever he could to make you comfortable, and that night will probably be etched in your brain forever.

you practically floated home that evening and that next evening your mother laid down the recommended gynecologists at the dinner table. she knew you’d done it, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to notice the hickeys and the way you smiled at visibly nothing.

“you know lando is going to go into the office and tell everyone you’re not fucking me.”

Oscar rolls his eyes in response. it didn’t bother him that people thought he wasn’t getting it. he knew he went home to you and did whatever you two pleased before sleeping. Lando could spread all the false rumors around that he wanted, but Oscar never would care. that always showed you that Oscar was way more mature.

“one day you’ll get pregnant and he’ll still think we aren’t doing it.”

“there’s only one way to show him we are doing it,” your playful smirk makes his stomach swirl in excitement and anxiety, “you scare me, Norris.”

—

“why the fuck did you have sex in my bed?!” Lando shrieks running down the stairs towards the kitchen where you’re buttering toast for your dear boyfriend who’s covered in hickeys. a marking that certainly shows your bother otherwise.

“oh was that your bed? I’m so sorry, we just were really into it.”

[solxamber]

Holding Them Close and Not Letting Go with: Vice Housewardens + Rollo, Neige

Ortho is platonic!

Other Parts: Housewardens + Jamil ; First Years

Trey Clover

The kitchen is warm, the faint smell of vanilla and caramelized sugar hanging in the air as Trey wipes his hands on his apron. He’s just finished frosting a tray of cakes for the Unbirthday Party, and he cuts a sliver off for you to try.

“Here,” he says, holding it up with a small smile. “Open up.”

The sweetness melts on your tongue, perfect as always. “Delicious,” you murmur, stepping closer to him. “You’re amazing.”

Trey chuckles, a soft, self-effacing sound. “It’s just cake.”

But before he can say more, you wrap your arms around him. He stiffens briefly in surprise, then his hands settle firmly on your back, holding you in return. His hugs are steady and grounding, as if he’s built to hold everything together.

You don’t let go. Not even when the seconds stretch long enough for him to tilt his head and glance down at you.

“You okay?” he asks softly, his voice tinged with concern.

Instead of answering, you squeeze him tighter. “I just love you,” you say, your voice muffled against his chest. “You’re my favorite, Trey.”

For a moment, he’s quiet, his breath catching. The words sink deeper than you probably meant them to, reaching a part of him he rarely lets anyone see. Trey’s always been the steady one, the dependable one, the one people count on—but being a pillar can get lonely. Sometimes he wonders if anyone sees the cracks he carefully hides beneath his calm demeanor.

But you do. Somehow, you always do.

“Hey,” he murmurs, his voice thick with something unspoken as he tucks his chin over your head. His arms tighten around you, pulling you as close as he can. “You have no idea how much that means to me.”

He doesn’t say the rest—that sometimes he worries he’s only as good as the things he can make, the roles he can fill. But the way you hold him, like he’s the one thing you don’t want to let go of, tells him he doesn’t have to say it.

“I love you too,” Trey says, his smile brushing against your hair. “And… I don’t mind if you hold on for a little longer.”

Neither of you let go for a long time.

Ruggie Bucchi

Ruggie strolls up with a grin, holding a donut split neatly in half. “Here, thought you might want a bite,” he says, wiggling one half at you like it’s the best deal you’ll get all day.

Before he can say anything else, you lunge forward and wrap your arms tightly around him, nearly knocking the treat out of his hand.

“Whoa, whoa—easy there, hyena’s fragile!” he jokes, laughing as he tries to balance the donut in one hand while patting your back with the other. “What’s this about, huh? Didja miss me that bad?”

But when you don’t loosen your grip after a few seconds, his teasing falters. He glances down at you, ears twitching as concern creeps into his expression. “Hey, what’s wrong? You okay?”

You tighten your arms around him, burying your face against his chest. “I just… I can’t believe you wanted to share with me,” you admit, your voice trembling slightly. “You could’ve kept it all for yourself, but you didn’t. And I love you for that. I’ll always be on your side, Ruggie.”

For a moment, he’s frozen, the words hitting him like a bolt out of the blue. Ruggie’s used to looking out for himself, clawing his way through a world that rarely gives him anything without a fight. Sharing isn’t just an act of kindness for him—it’s an act of trust, something he doesn’t offer lightly.

And here you are, hugging him like he’s the most important person in your world, as if that small gesture means everything.

A soft laugh escapes him, quieter this time, and he sets the donut down on a nearby surface. His arms come around you, holding you fiercely, almost desperately, like he’s afraid you’ll slip through his fingers.

“You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” he murmurs, his voice low but steady. “You make me feel like… like maybe I don’t have to fight so hard all the time.”

His ears twitch again, betraying the flood of emotions he’s not sure how to say out loud. But the way he holds you—tight and unyielding—says everything.

“I got your back too, y’know,” Ruggie adds after a moment, his grin returning, though softer now. “So don’t go anywhere, yeah? You’re stuck with me.”

And even if the donut’s forgotten, neither of you are in a rush to let go.

Jade Leech

Jade gestures toward the terrarium with his usual composed elegance, his voice calm and full of quiet pride as he explains the delicate ecosystem he’s cultivated. “This particular mushroom is quite fascinating. It thrives in low-light environments and has a symbiotic relationship with the moss surrounding it…”

Before he can finish, you lunge forward, wrapping your arms tightly around him and catching him completely off guard.

“Oh?” he murmurs, his tone still smooth, though there’s a flicker of surprise in his eyes. “Well, this is unexpected. Should I assume my explanation moved you to tears, or…?”

His teasing smile falters slightly as the seconds tick by and you show no sign of letting go. His hands hover for a moment before coming to rest lightly on your back. “Are you quite alright? Have I said something to upset you?” he asks softly, concern slipping into his voice despite his usual composed demeanor.

You squeeze him tighter, burying your face against his chest. “I’m fine. I just… I love you,” you say, your voice muffled but sincere. “I love how passionate you are about all this. You’re amazing, and I hope you know that.”

For a moment, Jade is still. Compliments aren’t unfamiliar to him, but genuine praise, untainted by ulterior motives, is rare. It’s even rarer for someone to look past his polished exterior and notice the part of him that finds joy in quiet, peculiar hobbies.

He lets out a low chuckle, the sound warm and rumbling in his chest as he pulls you closer, his arms tightening around you. “You’re quite the enigma yourself, you know,” he says, his teasing tone returning, though softer now. “Most people would find my interests… unusual, at best. But you, it seems, are rather fond of them—and me.”

There’s a pause, his usual composure giving way to something more vulnerable, though it’s masked by his playful smile. “I must admit, having someone like you by my side… it makes everything feel a great deal brighter.”

He leans down slightly, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “Thank you, truly. For seeing me—not just the surface, but everything beneath it.”

You feel his arms tighten once more, his grip firm but tender, as though anchoring himself to the moment. The terrarium sits forgotten behind him, but the glimmer in his mismatched eyes tells you he’s found something far more precious in your embrace.

Rook Hunt

The sharp knock on your window is startling but not surprising. Only Rook could make such an unconventional entrance seem like an everyday occurrence.

“Mon trésor!” he exclaims as you open the window to let him in, his voice melodic and his smile as radiant as ever. He swings himself inside with practiced ease, landing as gracefully as a performer taking center stage. “Ah, to witness your beauty in the glow of the afternoon sun—it is a blessing beyond compare!”

You don’t say anything in response. Instead, you step forward and wrap your arms tightly around him, catching him mid-gesture. His dramatic speech cuts off instantly, his body stiffening for a fraction of a second before he melts into the embrace.

“Mon cher, what is this?” he asks, his tone softer now, the usual flourish replaced by gentle concern. His arms come to rest around you, his hand brushing the back of your head tenderly. “You seem unsettled. Is something troubling you? Please, tell me.”

“I’m fine,” you murmur into his chest, squeezing him even tighter. “I just… I love you so much, Rook. I don’t know what to do with it sometimes.”

For a moment, Rook is silent—a rare thing for him. Then, he lets out a soft laugh, light and airy, as he effortlessly lifts you off the ground in his arms. “Ah, mon amour,” he breathes, holding you close as he spins once before settling you back on your feet. “Your words are arrows straight to my heart, more potent than any I’ve ever loosed from my bow.”

His voice wavers slightly, betraying an emotion he doesn’t often show. You feel his arms tighten around you as he rests his chin atop your head. “You see me,” he says quietly, almost as if to himself. “Not as strange or unsettling, not as the man others whisper about behind their hands. But as I am.”

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his green eyes shimmering with a mix of wonder and gratitude. “To have someone who understands, who doesn’t flinch away… Mon trésor, it is more than I ever dared hope for.”

You reach up to brush a lock of hair from his face, smiling warmly. “You’re not strange to me, Rook. You’re passionate and honest and so full of life it’s contagious. That’s why I love you.”

Rook lets out a soft, shuddering breath, his lips curving into a smile that’s more genuine than any you’ve ever seen. “And I, mon amour, am yours completely. To have your love, your understanding… It is a gift I shall cherish until my final breath.”

His arms envelop you once more, his hold fierce yet gentle, as if anchoring himself to you. In that moment, Rook is not the flamboyant huntsman or the dramatic poet. He’s simply a man who has found solace in your embrace, and for him, that’s everything.

Ortho Shroud

“Let’s lift it on three, okay?” Ortho’s chipper voice carries a note of determination as his metallic fingers grip the heavy object. You nod, bracing yourself.

“One, two, three!”

With ease that makes your own effort seem laughable, Ortho hoists his side, carefully adjusting his movements to match yours. Together, you maneuver the cumbersome object into place. As soon as it’s done, you let out a relieved sigh, straightening up.

“Thanks, Ortho. I couldn’t have done that without you,” you say.

“No problem at all! I’m always happy to help!” His eyes gleam with a bright, genuine energy.

Without thinking, you step forward and wrap your arms around him. Ortho stiffens slightly, his glowing core humming softly under your touch.

“Calculating,” he says after a moment, his voice shifting into an analytical tone. “Probability of distress detected: 63%. Likelihood of external stressor contributing: 47%.” He pulls back just enough to scan your face, his mechanical pupils adjusting. “Are you okay? Should I alert my brother or—”

You laugh softly, shaking your head. “I’m fine, Ortho. Really. I just wanted to hug you.”

His head tilts slightly, his processors whirring audibly. “But… you’ve been hugging me for longer than average. Are you sure you’re not—”

“Ortho,” you interrupt gently, squeezing him a little tighter. “You’re like a little brother to me. I don’t say it enough, but I’m so glad I met you.”

His eyes flicker for a moment, a soft blue light radiating from him as his arms loop around you again. This time, the hug feels more deliberate, more thoughtful. “You… think of me as your little brother?” he asks, his voice quiet, almost hesitant.

“Of course I do,” you say. “You’re warm, kind, and you always look out for everyone. I love you, you’re my person.”

His core glows brighter, the light spreading through the seams of his frame. “That makes me… really happy,” he says, his tone full of sincerity. “Thank you. It’s nice to know I can mean so much to someone, even though I’m not like everyone else.”

You feel his arms tighten, the mechanical plates surprisingly soft and warm against you. Despite his synthetic nature, Ortho’s embrace feels alive, radiating a kind of affection that transcends what he’s made of.

“I’m glad I have you too,” he says softly. “And if you ever need help—or another hug—I’ll always be here.”

The moment lingers, filled with a quiet, heartfelt warmth that feels entirely human.

Lilia Vanrouge

The cacophony of clattering pans and the unmistakable scent of something slightly burnt fills the air as you step into the kitchen. Lilia is there, of course, humming a cheerful tune as he stirs something in a pot that looks…questionable at best.

“Ah, my dear! Come to witness my culinary genius in action?” he teases, turning to you with a grin that promises mischief. “Don’t worry, tonight’s dish is only mildly experimental.”

Instead of responding, you step closer and wrap your arms around him. He stiffens for only a second, the spoon in his hand pausing mid-air.

“Well, well! What’s this? Is my cooking so irresistible that you can’t help but embrace the chef?” he chuckles, patting your back lightly. “I must say, I am flattered—”

You don’t let go.

The teasing stops. Slowly, Lilia sets the spoon down, his hands hesitantly resting on your arms. “Are you alright, my dear?” he asks, his tone softer now, a rare seriousness creeping in.

You pull back just enough to look at him, a smile playing on your lips. “I’m fine,” you say, your voice steady. “I just wanted to say I love you, Lilia.”

His eyes widen, and for a moment, he doesn’t respond. Then, with a tenderness that feels out of place in the chaos of the kitchen, he pulls you closer, burying his face in the crook of your neck. His arms wrap tightly around you, holding you as though he’s afraid to let go.

Lilia has lived lifetimes, far longer than most could even fathom. He has loved deeply, and he has lost even more. Those memories—the joys, the sorrows—are etched into his very being, woven into the fabric of who he is. Yet, as he holds you, your warmth grounding him in this fleeting moment, it all seems strangely… alright.

It’s a curious thing, how someone so young compared to his endless years can make him feel like he has all the time in the world. Your words settle into the cracks of his ancient heart, soothing wounds he thought he’d long grown used to.

“You,” he murmurs, his voice low and reverent, “are a rare treasure, you know that?”

He pulls back slightly, just enough to press his forehead against yours, his eyes glimmering with something unspoken. “Thank you,” he whispers, his usual playful lilt replaced by something achingly sincere. “For reminding me that some things… are worth staying for.”

You smile, reaching up to gently brush a stray strand of his hair aside. “Always,” you reply.

For now, the burnt concoction on the stove is forgotten. All that matters is the warmth shared in that quiet, timeless embrace.

Rollo Flamme

The scratch of a quill against parchment fills the room as Rollo sits at his desk, meticulously reviewing council documents. The weight of responsibility hangs heavy in the air, but his posture remains rigid and determined, as always.

You step into the room quietly, watching him work. He doesn’t notice you at first, so focused on the task at hand. Without a word, you step closer, wrapping your arms around him from behind and leaning your head on his shoulder.

Rollo freezes, the quill stilling mid-word. “What’s this?” he asks softly, his voice betraying a flicker of confusion. “Are you alright?”

You don’t answer, only holding him tighter. The silence stretches, and Rollo turns his head slightly, trying to catch a glimpse of your face. “Are you upset? Did something happen?” His voice is tinged with worry now, his hands lifting hesitantly as though unsure whether to pry you off or comfort you.

Finally, you pull back just enough to let him rise from the chair, only to wrap your arms around him again, holding him close. He stiffens for a brief moment before your words break through.

“I just love you, Rollo,” you say quietly, your voice steady but full of emotion. “And I’ll always be here for you. Always.”

For a moment, he doesn’t move, your words sinking into the guarded corners of his heart. Then, with a quiet exhale, he returns your embrace, fiercely pulling you closer, his arms tightening around you as though he never wants to let go.

Rollo has spent much of his life hiding behind walls of duty and principles, convinced that such things are safer than letting himself feel. Love, to him, has always seemed an ideal that exists for others—too volatile, too consuming. But with you, it feels different. Gentle. Steady. Filling in the spaces he thought were better left empty.

“You truly mean that,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “I… I love you too.”

He doesn’t pull back. Instead, he presses his face into the crook of your neck, letting the warmth of your embrace wash over him. You’ve given him something he never thought he could have: a love that asks for nothing but him, no pretense, no perfection.

In your arms, the weight of his responsibilities seems a little lighter. The quiet strength you offer him fills the hollows of his heart, and for the first time in a long while, he feels whole.

Neige LeBlanche

Neige steps through the door, his cheerful voice calling out your name. He’s just returned from a long day of shooting—flashing cameras, endless praise, and the kind of adoration most would envy. Yet the first thing he does upon seeing you is drop his bags and rush over, throwing his arms around you with a delighted laugh.

“I’m home!” he says brightly, his voice as warm as sunlight. “You have no idea how much I—oh!” His words are cut off as you pull him into a tight embrace, holding him like you’ll never let go.

He chuckles softly, returning the hug. “Well, someone missed me,” he teases, nuzzling into your hair. But when you don’t respond right away, his laughter falters. He pulls back just enough to look at you, his smile dimming with concern. “Are you okay? Did something happen?”

You shake your head, a soft smile spreading across your face. “No, nothing happened. I just… love you, Neige. And I missed you. That’s all.”

For a moment, Neige is silent, his wide eyes searching yours. Then his smile returns, softer and more genuine than ever. He pulls you close again, this time holding you as if you’re the only thing grounding him. “I missed you too,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion.

To the world, Neige is perfect. Always cheerful, always radiant, always the picture of kindness and grace. But deep down, he carries the quiet fear that all of it—the admiration, the love, the endless praise—might be shallow and fleeting. He’s spent so much of his life performing, giving, making himself into someone people want to see.

But with you, there’s no act, no need to be anything other than himself. And in moments like this, he realizes how much that means. You see him—the real him—and love him for it, not for the glitz and glamour or the person he is in front of the cameras.

Neige relaxes against you, his head resting on your shoulder, the warmth of your embrace soothing the doubts that linger in the corners of his mind. “Thank you,” he says softly, his voice carrying all the gratitude he can’t quite put into words.

Being with you feels like coming home, and in your arms, he can finally just be Neige—not a star, not an idol, but simply someone who loves and is loved in return.

Masterlist

[lifeonmarz-blog]

Every planet in the 12th: Observations

The 12th house shows you in which ways you can leave the biggest impact on the world in the purest most intentional way if you so choose.

*I didn't feel like proof reading spare me*

sun in the 12th often misperceived or seen as having underlining motives even when that is furthest from the truth. Actually quite often upfront with their intentions regardless if they know more than they've led you to believe. The projection others put on them is veryyy high, sun person unconsciously triggering deep seated wounds in others while they just assume they’re having a normal conversation. They either love gossip or are always being brought up in gossip. Attracting secret admirers bc of the taboo aspect of their personality. They teach others how to be themselves through example and that gives them the popular loner vibe, everyone wants to know whats going on in their life. Though Its often not as interesting as the stories that are being created about them (probably at home chilling). Unintentionally very funny their light hearted nature makes others feel comfortable. They know how to create warm welcomes. They can read animals minds. They dress how they feel. Escape artist. Probably through music, film or imagination. Gift for photography.

moon in 12th romantic relationships have a big influence on these people. They'll change their whole life around to fit into their lovers life for better or worse. Naturally harmonious these people are seemingly unsuspecting until you piss them off then you realize they just choose to keep peace. Prone to escapism usually through some sort of creative pursuit turned business. Obviously not forward with their feelings ppl tend to label them as having their head in the clouds when in reality they have plans its just nobody else's business. There's a love/resentful relationship with the mother. The mother could've been a physical provider but not emotional. These ppl had to nurture and comfort themselves and it made them very good at being those things for others. Children and animals loveeeee them. They are givers and don't mind sharing for the greater good. Dependable and persistent they can stick out something they feel is important. But if they don't care... Oh its very obvious. That job they don't like? Oh don't even worry about it they'll quit. They don't like feeling stressed or unharmonious and don't mind removing anything thats trying to hinder that. In the lower natures this creates a person that ignores anything that would make them have to readjust their behavior. Extremely delusional and misreads the room quite often. Very emotional changing how they feel about you frequently. It can become hard to give and receive trust.

Mars in the 12th manifest things/experiences so easy especially through their connections. They know how to put themselves in the right rooms with the right people. They date people that improve their social standing and they do the same in return. When its comes to career they could've seemed like the runt in the group but they grew themselves to be well respected in their field. Often hearing ''you only got this because''. They attract a lot of haters jealous of their success or the way they got their success. these people are attractive and naturally have a body others envy, they always have options and good ones at that.

Venus in 12th boy oh boy the hopeless romantics, but whats so hopeless about it? Others may often wonder why you picked the person you did viewing you as opposites. There may be an age gap or cultural difference. The women often choose partners that have a different social standing or perception than their own. The Men do the same though their more willing to be in relationships with unrequited love. Have had their fair share of infidelity issues until they found the person that would ride or die for them and vise versa. Privacy and trust are high priority for these people. Very good at socializing they know how to read what is needed to improve the energy of a space. Their parties/hostings are always so inviting and rememberable. They work very well with children and animals. Especially those in need. Fostering is something they wouldn't mind doing, along with nursing things back to health. Examples hair, nails. Plants etc. Very crafty they'd create beautiful jewelry and clothing. Their style is unique and acquired taste even. Controlling an image or narrative comes natural these Pol could do damage control for celebrities. When Ppl are in a frantic state they know how to calm assist.

Mercury in 12th are good at controlling the narratives around themselves. People hand on to every word that's said. These are the types that prefer to talk when necessary and not give out to much information. Just enough to keep you hooked. They have a unique sound and are musically inclined it helps that they think outside of the box. Usually the leader of the group because of their ability to see the broader picture and keep everyones best interest at heart. They attract haters bc they set high goals for themselves they get viewed as outlandish or unpractical when actually they just believe in themselves and remain optimistic. They know alot about very specific niche things.

Jupiter in the 12th don't get the credit they deserve for being so iconic. They really are trendsetters that break molds and stereotypes and tend receive backlash for the things they say & do simply because they were the first to do it. Opening up the pathway for others to show up more authentically and protected. They have big expression and are passionate about the things they choose to do. Their not afraid to speak their truth and having a forgiving nature. Creative pursuits are well received by the public attracting sponsors easily. Its also easy for them to find/create a community ppl reall gravitate to them. Their kryptonite lies in their self esteem. If they can't face rejection they'll hide the best parts of themselves. Only seeing the beauty in others and not what they offer the world.

Saturn in the 12th need to know when to stop while their ahead. They get into unnecessary battles bc of a fragile or inflated ego. When the ego is healthy this makes for a very powerful person that commands rooms with ease. They make Pol want to sit up in their chair when they walk in. These Pol are stubborn but more often than not it works out in their favor. Very hard workers and the same energy they apply is expected from those around them. If they put in 80 hrs a week they expect the same from you, if I can do it why can't you mentality. They achieve alot and Ppl notice it but its like no one ever sees them working they just see the finished product and know a lot had to be done behind the scenes. For example let's say someone is very popular you know they would've had to built those relationships you just didn't see it happen. They could have a guilt complex about their achievements and feel like theirs still more they should be doing for other ppl. Growing up as the star, the golden child, the one thats going to help the family put a lot of pressure and responsibility on them. This could've also affected the relationship between the others siblings. Lastly these Ppl are either very serious about punctuality or show up whenever they want to. Maybe even both they could've started out one way and over time became another way. When saturn is damaged they run from responsibility and are viewed as childish and never learning from their lessons.

Neptune in the 12th know how to win over the audience. I chose the word audience bc they love an audience. Ppl will make excuses for their behavior like ''you know they had a rough childhood'' as if that excuses hurting others. Professional sympathy grabbers even when their not even trying and great ass kissers when they want to be. That is in neptunes lower natures ofc. These ppl speak their mind without a fuck given. This is like the only pile im cursing in and that kind of explains them. Their going to say what they want and don't mind shaking the room up. Image is important to them. They'll study their own footage to see what they looked like, sounded like, acted like, and change anything they deem as not fitting. They could be great actors or social media personalities. Also would be good at managing social media accounts. These ppl may be easily persuaded especially by those they view as having a higher social ranking than themselves. Knowing how to adapt to any environment is their strong suit. They act as a mirror in their environment and reflect back whatever energy you give them. To a T at that. They know when to play it up or be more lowkey. This is type of person to always leave lasting impressions on ppl. They could be the first in a taboo field to achieve something. Like being the first pornstar to get 100 million views. Its like when you think you have them figured out they do something else that shows there's many other sides to them. Often hearing ''i didnt think I would like you at first''. With a great sense of humor they know how to laugh at themselves and lighten the mood they don't take life to seriously. They attract a lot of unique ppl their friend group is very expansive. They could be friends with a stripper and an attorney. Hell they might've been a stripper and an attorney.

Uranus in the 12th they just pop up and ppl are surprised like ''omg what are doing here'' these ppl are held in high regard mostly bc their very selective with their energy, your viewed as a busy person so when you come around it makes ppl feel lucky. You treat others fairly and want everyone around you to feel accepted. You value keeping the peace. The fact that I'm even using you instead of they is a reflection of how inclusion is important for you. Having an eccentric vibe is more obvious here but alot of ppl go the opposite way and don't want to appear uniquely at all they actually want to be as plain Jane as possible. This can actually rub ppl the wrong way and make them feel something is being hidden from them like your pretending. Feeling criticized in childhood is why accepting others is something they prioritize. They end up in rooms with many different types of ppl. This placement has a lot of experience in a lot of different areas. With a free spirited nature they are open to trying new things pushing themselves outside of their comfort zone quite often.

Pluto in the 12th, a quiet energy standing in the back of the room scoping out the scenery. They notice more than ppl realize and are smarter than they let on. Often having their power tested bc of their calm observing demeanor. Ppl try to make them feel they don't belong in certain environments or that their not really qualified but they don't mind showing you why that perception isn't accurate. They know how to push back. The type to pretend they don't care about popularity but they work very hard at obtaining it. But maybe they don't care about the popularity just the power that it brings. Knowing the value of relationships they put alot into maintaining them. They are very giving to those around them. Self sacrificing even, its like they believe thats how you show someone you really care. These are some of the most passionate people you'll meet. They just know how to make you feel understood and seen. They make everyone feel special. This is one of the most intense placements for the 12th house. The transformations are deep, murky, confusing but it breeds and very self sufficient determined person. They question everything and are always growing and adapting. When they find something they like they become obsessive about it. They will work for extended amounts at a time. Like binging behavior. In Pluto's lower natures they develop a chip or their shoulder and use their influence to hurt others. If they are operating from that place they become very good at it. If they are never brought into awareness they continue generational curses but their children will have it worse than they did. These are the type of Pol that will tell you a traumatic experience in such a casual way and your just left like wtf you said that like it was normal. They also could've grew up experiencing their traumas being brushed off like they were normal. They were familiar with death from a young age and may have felt like they never really were a child. They build the trust of others easily and its bc their honest. It is what it is to them. They are natural born leaders it doesn't take much convincing & they don't mind leading the way as long as you give them their accolades for it. Mind you they could have a god complex but to be fair if you've experienced or achieved the things they have you might too.

[incognit0slut]

Lesson learned

PART 3 OF KINKTOBER | MAIN MASTERLIST

Unit Chief!Spencer x BAU!Reader Your boss decides to teach you a lesson when you question the motivations behind a certain case.

Content: (18+) 6k, breath play, fingering, a little case description, BDSM discussion, softdom Spence but borderlines to dom because hello this is breath play and reader being judgy judgy but don’t worry he’s here to teach you a lesson or two a/n: The initial plan was to make him a hard dom but breathplay is already overwhelming so I decided to go the educational route. I am, by all means, not as smart as him, so there might be some inaccuracy

You would think that after joining the BAU for two years, you’d start to understand the twisted logic of a criminal’s mind. But you don’t. Not really. You’ve dissected motives, uncovered patterns, and profiled suspects more times than you can count, and yet this case makes no sense. 

Your eyes go over the photographs pinned to the board again. And again. And again. It’s become almost a ritual now, like maybe if you look at it just one more time, the pieces might finally fall into place. But all you find staring back at you are three victims with the same marks on their necks. There was clearly a sign of struggle, but not one of fear. Not one that fits any pattern you know.

“I don’t get it,” you say. “The profile suggests the victims knew their attacker, but this doesn’t look like anything close to rage. Or brutality.”

Spencer shifts beside you, his shoulder brushing lightly against yours as he leans closer to the board. “It might not have been an act of violence,” he observes thoughtfully. “Not in the traditional sense, anyway.”

You furrow your brow. “If it wasn’t violent, then what was it?”

“The bruising pattern is too symmetrical, and there’s no sign of panic or defensive wounds on their hands. I think there’s a chance the victims might have willingly participated.”

“Willingly?” Your eyes snap at him. “What do you mean, ‘willingly participated’? No one willingly gets strangled.”

He meets your eyes for a second before looking back at the board. “I know it sounds unlikely,” he admits, “but not impossible. See how the bruises are evenly spaced? They wrap around in perfect circles. The pressure is distributed just enough to leave a mark but not to crush the windpipe.“

“Spencer, that’s exactly what happened. The windpipe was crushed.”

“Yes, but not immediately. That’s the point.” He turns towards you again. “The intention wasn’t to kill them outright. The unsub wanted to bring them to the point of unconsciousness but not over it. At least, not at first. He was counting on their trust before pushing it too far.”

You let out a huff. “That’s insane.”

“It might seem that way to you, but it’s not unheard of. Sexual asphyxiation is a consensual act for some people. The lack of oxygen when someone’s airflow is restricted can trigger a euphoric sensation which intensifies pleasure."

You stare at him like he’s just spoken a different language. “So, you're saying they get off on... not breathing?”

“More like they find excitement in giving up that control."

You cross your arms and study him, tilting your head with a skeptical frown. “How do you even know this?”

The corner of his mouth twitches in a half-smile. “I read,” he says simply, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“You have a book on sexual asphyxiation?”

“It’s more comprehensive than that. The book covers a wide range of kinks, fetishes, and other forms of sexual exploration which are considered extreme by societal standards.”

"You’re telling me you read up on BDSM practices in your spare time?”

"I think of it as research,” he replies. “It’s part of understanding human behavior. You can’t afford to be ignorant about the complexities of people's desires."

"Huh." Your eyes travel back to the images again. "You know, I still don't understand. I mean, willingly letting someone cut off your breath? That’s not just trust that’s… I don’t know, crazy?”

His eyes narrow towards you as if he's carefully considering how much to say.

“It's not crazy,” he insists carefully. “For people who engage in it, it’s not only about losing control. It’s about reaching a heightened state of awareness, finding excitement in walking that line.”

"But what if that line gets crossed? What then? How could anyone think that sounds… fun?”

“Well, have you ever tried it?”

“Of course not!” you reply quickly, almost laughing at the absurdity. “Why would I?”

“Then you wouldn’t know,” he counters, his tone calm but pointed, like he’s presenting a fact rather than an opinion. “You can’t really understand the mindset until you’ve experienced it. It’s not something you can fully grasp from the outside.”

"I don’t think I could ever trust someone enough to do that to me."

“Maybe you just haven’t found the right person to trust.”

You scoff. “What? Are you offering?”

You laugh at your own joke, and you expected him to do the same. Or perhaps a quick “Of course not”, even some rambling about how he didn’t mean it that way. But when all you’re met with is silence, your laughter dies down, and your eyes dart back to him.

Spencer’s not looking at you, his eyes are fixed on the photographs pinned to the board. He’s studying the bruises, the faces, the details like he always does, but there’s a stillness in his expression, a tension in the set of his jaw that makes you think he’s considering something else entirely. And for a moment, you’re not sure if he’s really thinking about the victims or the case at all.

Maybe you shouldn’t joke about things like that. He is your boss, after all, and even though there isn’t exactly a strict superior-subordinate dynamic between the two of you—he’s always been more of a peer than an authority figure—you wonder if maybe this time you crossed a line.

Spencer’s eyes remain on the photos for a long, agonizing second, and you think maybe he’s not going to respond at all. But then, slowly, he turns his head and looks at you, and the room suddenly feels impossibly small.

“If I were to offer,” he says quietly, “Would you take it?”

His words knock the breath from your lungs, and all you can do is stare back at him. You don’t know what to make of the question. Was it a dare? A test? Or perhaps something more?

There’s a part of you that wants to laugh it off. The conversation was absurd to begin with, so brushing it away like it’s nothing would feel like the safest option. The easy way out. But there’s another part—one you don’t want to acknowledge—that can’t help but wonder what it would mean to say yes.

What if you did? you ponder.

What would it feel like to trust someone like that?

What would it feel like to trust him?

But before you can reply, the door to the meeting room creaks open, the noise echoing through the dimly lit space of the police precinct. A uniformed officer pokes his head inside.

“Dr. Reid, we found a new lead on the vehicle.”

Spencer’s eyes stay locked on yours for just a beat longer as your heart hammers in your chest. Then, without a word, he nods to the officer, and any trace of whatever passed between you dissolves like it never happened at all.

The next few days turn into a blur. The lead on the unsub’s vehicle takes you across town, a chase that ends with the suspect cornered in an abandoned old house. It’s almost anticlimactic how quickly it all happens—sirens blaring, doors kicked in, and in less than an hour, the unsub is in handcuffs. The case is finally closed, and it’s the kind of victory that usually brings a sigh of relief.

But today, you can’t find that peace.

Back at the precinct, the rest of the team has already moved on to debriefing. You’re left cleaning up the mess of photographs and notes scattered across the table. But your movements are slow, distracted, your fingers fumbling over the papers. There’s a prickling awareness that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, and you know exactly why.

It’s because Spencer is watching you. You don’t even need to look to feel the weight of his gaze. He’s leaning casually against the doorframe, hands tucked in his pockets, but there’s nothing casual about the way his eyes track your movements.

You pause, photos in hand, and finally address him. “What?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he pushes off the wall and starts walking toward you. He stops just short of arm’s length.

“Have you thought about what we discussed the other day?”

You feel a rush of embarrassment, and the awkwardness of the moment makes you shift uncomfortably. Clearing your throat, you turn your attention back to the table, hastily grabbing a stack of photographs and shuffling them into a folder.

“We didn’t discuss anything,” you mumble, avoiding his gaze. “It was just a joke.”

“Was it? You don’t joke about things like that unless you’ve thought about them at least a little.”

You let out a dry laugh, keeping your eyes firmly on the table. “I wasn’t being serious. We were in the middle of a case, and we were all exhausted. I just said whatever came to mind.”

Spencer tilts his head, the way he does when he’s analyzing something, his eyes flickering over your face as though he’s cataloging every twitch of your expression.

“Maybe,” he concedes, and takes another step forward. “But the offer wasn’t a joke, and you didn’t say no.”

Your fingers freeze over the photographs, the papers crinkling under your touch.

“I didn’t say yes either.”

You mentally wince at how weak that sounds, almost as if you’re trying to convince yourself. You slowly look up at him, searching his face for any sign of hesitation, but all you find are those intense brown eyes staring back at you.

It unnerves you how calm he is, how easily he’s holding this conversation when your mind is spinning in a million directions.

“You do realize what you’re offering?” you start to press, feeling the need to put it out in the open. “What this means?”

Spencer doesn’t flinch, doesn’t break eye contact for a second. “I do.”

“Do you? Because it seems to me like you might be taking this too lightly."

“I’m not taking it lightly. I’m acknowledging that there’s more to it than what you’re seeing on the surface.”

“And what makes you think I want to see beyond the surface?”

He leans in closer. Close enough to feel the warmth of his breath, but not enough to cross any boundaries. “I’m offering a perspective, not forcing you to accept it. Understanding doesn’t always come from reading about something. It comes from experience.”

You can’t quite decide if his words make sense or if they’re completely absurd. It’s like he’s challenging your logic, your assumptions, but at the same time, there’s a strange clarity to what he’s saying.

“Why does it matter so much to you?”

Because he’s your boss? Because someone in his position always tries to make sense of everything for everyone else?

“Because shaming people for their interests, for something they might find pleasure in… it isn’t fair, and it isn’t right.”

Now that was something you didn’t expect him to say.

“I wasn’t shaming,” you protest quickly, the words coming out defensive even to your own ears. “I was just…”

“Curious,” he finishes for you. “And curiosity isn’t a flaw. Neither is wanting to understand, and if you’re willing to explore that curiosity, then I’d rather you experience it in a way that’s safe. That you know is controlled.”

“So what?” you snap back. “You want to prove me wrong? Show me I’ve been looking at this the wrong way?”

A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, but it’s not playful. It’s gentle, almost thoughtful, as if he’s carefully weighing each word. “No,” he says softly. “I don’t want to prove you wrong. I want to teach you.”

You blink at him. You open your mouth, but nothing comes out at first, the words tangled somewhere between shock and disbelief. It takes a few seconds until you manage to find your voice.

“You… want to teach me?”

“A lesson, if you will,” he explains, and the way he says it—so calm, so certain—makes your heart stutter. “Not to prove you wrong, but to help you understand. You have your perceptions about… control and trust. I think the only way to really understand is to experience it yourself.”

You don’t know what to say, what to do, and all that comes out is a shaky, barely-there laugh.

“A lesson,” you repeat, trying to make sense of the concept.

He nods, and there’s no pressure in his voice, just an offer. Simple and clear. “But only if it’s what you want.”

You aren’t sure what to feel, much less what to say, and the uncertainty must show on your face. Sensing your hesitation, Spencer takes a step back, giving you space.

“It’s a lot to consider, and I’m not expecting an answer now. But the offer still stands… whenever you’re ready.”

And with that, he gives you one last smile and turns away, leaving you alone with your conflicted thoughts.

You’re pacing in your hotel room, your footsteps muffled by the worn carpet as you make the same path back and forth over and over again. Every time you try to sit down, your leg bounces with restless energy, so you’re back up again, moving without purpose but unable to stop.

You tell yourself it’s just stress. The case, the pressure, the weirdness of being in a small-town motel with creaky walls and awful lighting. But you know better. You know exactly what’s got your mind spinning and your stomach doing flips.

Spencer. And his damn offer.

You scoff to yourself, trying to laugh it off like you always do, but the joke doesn’t land when it’s just you, alone with your thoughts. And, really, what’s the harm in admitting the truth—to yourself, at least? That maybe the whole concept doesn’t seem as insane as it did a few days ago. That maybe you’ve found yourself wondering what it would feel like to trust someone that much.

You stop pacing, staring at your reflection in the mirror across the room. There it is, that nagging curiosity, that flicker of intrigue that Spencer saw before you even knew it was there. You let out a sigh, the weight of the realization hitting you.

God help you, but you’re actually curious.

And that might just be the scariest part of all.

You slip into your shoes and take a deep breath before stepping into the hallway. The motel’s quiet, most of the rooms dark as you walk past, and for a moment you hesitate, wondering if this is a mistake. The team’s staying one more night here, the last bit of downtime before flying back tomorrow. A chance to decompress, to shake off the adrenaline of the case. Yet here you are, anything but relaxed, heading out because you can’t stand one more second of pacing back and forth.

Your footsteps come to a stop outside Spencer’s room, and you stare at the numbers on the plaque for a moment. You could turn around right now. You could pretend you didn’t walk all the way down the corridor with his words echoing in your head. But as much as you try to convince yourself that walking away is the logical choice, your hand moves on its own, and you knock.

Spencer doesn’t look surprised when he opens the door. Without waiting for an invitation, you push past him, barging into the room before you change your mind.

“If we’re going to do this, I have some ground rules,” you blurt out, the words rushing out all at once. “I don’t know what you think this is going to be like, but I need control over some things. Non-negotiable.”

He closes the door with a soft click. “Of course,” he responds calmly. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

“First,” you say, spinning around to face him. “I’m in control of when this starts and when it stops. If I say no, then we stop. Immediately. No questions, no convincing, none of that.”

“Absolutely.”

“Second, I need to know exactly what we’re doing. No surprises. You explain everything to me before we do anything.”

He quickly nods.

“And third… this doesn’t leave this room. We don’t talk about it to anyone else. Not tomorrow, not next week, not ever.”

He takes a step forward towards you. “This stays between us.”

You let out a shaky breath, the adrenaline settling into a nervous, thrumming pulse beneath your skin. “Okay,” you mumble, more to yourself than to him, trying to process the reality of what you’ve just laid out. “Those are my rules.”

Spencer takes another step forward, close enough now that you can smell the faintest trace of him. A mix of something clean and warm, like soap and worn cotton, an understated scent that’s distinctly him.

“Then those are the rules we follow,” he reassures you. “Your terms. Your pace.”

“Thank you.”

He nods his head again. “Is there anything else you want to discuss?”

There is, actually. There’s a question that’s been hovering in the back of your mind. It feels awkward to say out loud, but the uncertainty gnaws at you, and finally, you force the words out.

“Are we… are we going to have sex?”

He holds your gaze. “Do you want to have sex?”

You go quiet again, letting the silence settle around you as you think about what you want, what you came here for. You slowly shake your head. “No,” you reply. “No, I don’t.”

“Then we won’t. There’s more to explore in this than just sex.”

“Right, that’s—good.” You clear your throat. “I have… one more question.”

He gestures for you to continue.

“You’re not going to fire me for this, are you?”

His soft chuckle fills your ear, and it’s the first time you’ve seen him genuinely smile tonight. “No,” he confirms, amusement flickering in his eyes. “I’m not going to fire you. Whatever happens between us won’t affect your work, I promise.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, feeling a little of the weight lift off your shoulders.

“Okay, so… now what?”

“Now,” he says gently, “We take it slow.“

He guides you toward the edge of the bed, and you find yourself moving automatically, sitting down on the mattress. The bed creaks slightly as he settles beside you.

“If we’re going to do this,” he starts, turning slightly to face you. “I want you to be comfortable. And that means talking. You can start by telling me what you’re thinking. ”

“That’s… it? We’re just going to talk?”

Spencer’s mouth lifts into a soft smile. “Yes,” he confirms, “If that’s what you want. There’s no pressure to do anything else.”

The idea of just talking feels safe, but there’s also a flicker of curiosity that you can’t quite shake. You shift on the bed.

“What if I want to do something more?”

Spencer’s eyes search yours, and he doesn’t move closer, doesn’t do anything that could make the moment feel rushed. “If you want to, then we can. Something simple to start.”

Your fingers trace the fabric of the bedspread. “Like what?”

“Something small. It could be as simple as letting me guide your breathing. A way to practice trust without anything overwhelming.”

You swallow, the idea feeling both intimidating and oddly… reassuring. There’s comfort in the way he talks about it, the lack of pressure, and the way he makes it feel like there’s nothing to fear.

“Okay,” you agree softly. “Let’s try that.”

He moves a little closer to you. “We’ll take it slow,” he promises. “Try to focus on your breathing and follow my lead.”

You close your eyes, feeling your breath shallow and quick, your heart racing as you try to find a steady rhythm.

“Take a deep breath,” he instructs softly. You inhale deeply, feeling the air fill your lungs, and when you open your eyes for a moment, you find his face inches from yours.

“Good. Now let it out… slowly.”

You follow his lead, exhaling, and you can’t help but notice he’s mirroring your breathing—his chest rising and falling in time with yours. It’s oddly comforting, and a little unnerving, like he's syncing with the rhythm of your pulse.

“Again,” he guides. “Deep breath in… hold for a count of three… then let it go.”

You do as he says, feeling your nerves steady slightly with each breath. In, hold, out.

“You’re doing really well,” he murmurs, leaning just a fraction closer. His lips are so close that you can feel his breath brushing your skin. “I’m going to ask you something, but I need you to know you can say no. At any point.”

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak.

“Can I touch you?” he asks gently, his words so soft they almost melt into the air around you. “Just on your shoulder, or your hand. I want to see how you feel about being touched while you focus on your breathing.”

Your heartbeat thuds in your ears, but you manage another nod. His hand moves carefully to rest on your shoulder, but even with the light pressure, you feel your body stiffen. Spencer notices immediately.

“You’re tense,” he observes, his thumb brushing lightly against your shoulder.

You let out a small laugh, one that comes out more like a nervous exhale than anything close to amusement. “It’s kind of hard not to be,” you admit. “I guess I’m a little nervous.”

“That’s okay. It’s completely normal to feel nervous.” He pauses for a second before continuing, his tone thoughtful, like he’s considering what might actually help. "There are a few things that can help when you’re feeling this way. One of them is focusing on your breathing, which we’re already doing. But there’s also physical touch."

"Physical touch?”

"Kissing, for example," he explains, “can actually help regulate your nervous system. It releases oxytocin, lowers cortisol levels. Basically, it signals your body to relax."

Your eyes fall on his lips. "Really?"

A flicker of a smile plays at the corners of his mouth. “Yes, but it’s only helpful if it’s something you feel comfortable with.” He tilts his head slightly, studying you. “Would you like to try?”

You meet his gaze again and, before you can overthink it, find yourself nodding, swallowing the nervous lump in your throat. “Yeah… okay. We can try.”

Before you even finish the sentence, Spencer leans in, his lips brushing yours with the kind of gentleness that catches you off guard. It's soft at first, like he’s testing the waters, and you can feel the slight hesitation in his movements as if he’s making sure you’re comfortable. It’s sweet, almost too sweet, and for a second, you wonder if this is how he kisses—gentle, thoughtful, deliberate.

But as the kiss deepens, you feel the warmth of him pulling you in. Your heart’s doing this erratic thing where it skips every other beat, and your mind’s racing to catch up with what your body’s already starting to enjoy. And sure, maybe the science behind this kiss makes sense after all, because there’s a part of you that’s actually relaxing, even with the buzz of nerves still humming beneath the surface.

Then he pulls back, just enough for your lips to barely part, his breath warm against your skin. “How are you feeling?”

It takes three heartbeats to find your voice. “Uh... yeah, good,” you manage, a little breathless, a little more flustered than you’d like to admit.

“Do you want to keep going?”

You pause, thinking it over, and despite the swarm of nerves in your chest, curiosity wins out again. You nod, maybe a little too quickly. The moment you do, Spencer leans in again, and this time his kiss is deeper, more intent. The softness is still there, but there’s a quiet intensity in the way his lips move against yours, the way his hand lightly cups the back of your neck.

Then his tongue brushes lightly against your lower lip, and a ripple of goosebumps spreads across your skin. You part your lips for him, and the sensation of his tongue slipping past m has you gripping the fabric of his shirt a little tighter.

Just when you think you’re getting used to it, his hand shifts, sliding up to wrap gently around the front of your neck. Not tight, not restricting—just enough to make you aware of it. The warmth of his palm against your throat sends a jolt of something sharp right through you. He seems to notice instantly, and without pulling his hand away, he breaks the kiss.

“Are you okay?” His thumb gently strokes the side of your neck. “I don’t want to push you, if it’s too much—”

But before he can finish, you shake your head quickly, surprising even yourself with how fast the words leave your mouth. “No, I… trust you.”

His eyes soften at your words, and his grip on your neck stays gentle, almost protective. “Would it be okay if I touched you more?”

Your pulse beats rapidly beneath his fingers, a rhythm you’re sure he can feel, as if your heart is answering for you. “…yes.”

“Do you want to lie down? Would that be more comfortable?”

You feel the heat travel along your veins. “I think… that would be good.”

Spencer nods as he helps you shift back onto the pillow. He stays close but doesn’t crowd you, his hand returning to rest lightly on your neck, that same soft pressure that keeps your heartbeat thrumming in your ears.

“Remember, focus on your breathing,” he reminds you. “The way your body responds is tied to how much you let yourself feel. Trust that.”

His other hand begins to move. His hand trails up toward your shoulder, then lightly brushes over your breast. It’s barely a touch at first, like he’s testing the boundaries, waiting for your body to tell him how far to go. Your breath catches for a second, but when you don’t tense up, he takes that as a sign to continue.

“Is this alright?”

“Yeah,” you manage to whisper, your voice a little breathless than you expected. And, God, you mean it. It’s more than okay—it’s… unexpectedly good in a way that feels almost too intimate to think about.

His hand moves lower now, tracing a path down your side, before sliding gently across your leg. You don’t even realize you’re holding your breath until you feel his fingers brush against the inside of your thigh.

“How about this?”

You nod, biting your lip as you meet his gaze.

Spencer’s lips curls into the faintest smile. His hand inches higher, moving up your thigh with excruciating slowness until his fingers finally reach the heat between your legs.

Oh. Oh.

Your hips instinctively tilt toward him, your body responding before your mind can even catch up. The heat pooling low in your belly intensifies as his fingers press lightly against you.

“Still with me?”

You nod, but internally, your mind is spinning. He begins to move in slow, circular motions, his fingers dragging against the fabric in a way that makes you bite back a moan. The friction sends jolts of pleasure through you, and you can feel your arousal sticking uncomfortably to your panties. It doesn’t shock you—you know understand how being touched like this will make you wet—but what surprises you is how much more intense it feels when his grip around your neck tightens.

Your breath hitches, and before you can stop yourself, a moan escapes your lips.

He pauses for a moment, his grip relaxing just enough for you to catch your breath. “I want you to feel the difference,” he explains. “The pressure changes everything. It makes you more aware of every sensation, more focused on how your body responds. But if it’s too much, you tell me, okay?”

You nod, your breath still coming in uneven gasps. “I’m good.”

His thumb traces the outline of your jaw. “Do you want me to continue?”

“…yeah.”

His hand travels towards your hips, fingers toying with the waistband of your pants. “Should we get rid of these?”

You don’t have to think about it for long. The answer is already there.

“You can take them off.”

Spencer’s fingers slip beneath the waistband of your pants before tugging it down. But as the fabric pools around your ankles, you hesitate for a second before your hand instinctively reaches for your shirt. You fumble with the hem, glancing at him as you pull it halfway up, your breath coming out in a small, awkward laugh.

“I mean, it’d feel weird to be naked from the waist down and still… you know, fully dressed on top.”

His eyes linger on you, and his reaction is subtly amusing. “Whatever makes you comfortable.”

Without thinking too much about it, you tug the shirt over your head, tossing it aside. Your bra follows, quickly joined by your panties, and before you know it, you’re lying naked on your boss’s bed.

Or, technically, the bed he’s been sleeping on these past couple of days.

Spencer’s eyes move over you slowly, lingering on the curve of your perky breasts, your smooth skin, and the unmistakable wetness between your thighs. His gaze is careful, appreciative but never lingering too long in one place, like he’s taking you in while still giving you space to breathe.

“You’re so pretty.”

Pretty? The word feels almost quaint given the situation, but the way he says it makes it feel like it’s more than that. Like he’s seeing all of you, the parts you don’t often reveal, and he still thinks you’re beautiful.

And somehow, that simple compliment leaves you more exposed than the fact that you’re lying naked in front of him.

“I can’t believe we're doing this,” you admit, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

His hand brushes along your arm. “You don’t have to overthink it. You’re in control here. We can stop whenever you want.”

“I know.”

He tilts your head with his hand. “Is this okay so far?”

You offer him a smile. “It’s okay.”

His other hand lands on your knee. “Can you spread your legs for me?”

You feel the nerves buzzing beneath your skin, but there’s also a warmth, a curiosity, a pull toward him. You inhale deeply, letting the breath steady your nerves, and then, without letting your mind spiral any further, you slowly part your legs.

His palm glides along your inner thigh, and then he touches you again, only this time, there’s no barrier between you. You can feel the rough pad of his fingertips as they gently caress your folds that it pulls a sharp breath from your lips.

“Does this feel good?”

You nod. It’s more than just good—it’s everything. The way he’s paying attention to every inch of your body is overwhelming in the best way. His fingers trace a slow path along your skin, finally pausing as they brush against you between your folds. Without hesitation, Spencer slides a finger inside you. The sudden stretch pulls a gasp from your lips.

The slick wetness between your thighs coats his fingers almost instantly, and you feel yourself responding to him, opening up in ways you didn’t even know you could. He studies the way his finger moves in and out of your cunt, and the more he touches you, the more your hips begin to move on their own.

He takes your response as a sign to continue.

"I'm going to wrap my hand around your neck again," he tells you, without waiting for more than a slight nod of your head, his fingers curl around your throat.

"The pressure here," he begins, his thumb lightly pressing at the side of your neck. "Isn't just about cutting off your air, it also means restricting blood flow to your brain.”

He pushes another finger inside you, and the increased fullness draws a sharp intake of breath from you.

“By limiting the blood flow like this,” he continues, applying a bit more pressure around your throat. "It triggers your body to release adrenaline and dopamine. That rush you’re feeling? It’s your body chasing euphoria."

Euphoria. You never really thought about it like this before, how something so controlled could unlock a part of your body that felt so overwhelming. The feeling isn’t just pleasure, it’s a raw intensity that borders on something deeper as your cunt clenches around him. Your breath stutters, caught in a sharp contrast between the slow burn in your throat and the urgent heat flaring between your legs.

He’s unraveling you, pulling you apart thread by thread, yet leaving you desperate for the moment he puts you back together again.

You need more.

“You’re doing so well,” he murmurs soothingly. The words send a new wave of heat rushing through your body. Your hips move restlessly, and you can hear the soft whine escaping your throat, growing louder with each thrust.

Spencer notices immediately, his fingers slowing just for a moment. “Too much?”

You quickly shake your head, almost frantic, the last thing you want is for him to stop. The moment you do, his grip on your throat tightens slightly and your eyes flutter closed as a wave of euphoria washes over you. Head falling back against the pillows, your vision starts to blur. You feel the air restrict in your throat.

“I need you to breathe for me, sweetheart.” His thumb strokes lightly against your neck. “The more you control your breathing, the better it’ll feel.”

That word alone almost undoes you. It rolls off his tongue like it’s meant to be soft and soothing, but instead, it sends a bolt of pleasure straight through you. Your chest rises and falls as you do exactly what he says, because apparently, being called sweetheart with his fingers wrapped around your neck makes you want to obey him, more than you’d care to admit.

"That’s it, keep focusing on your breathing."

You force your eyes open, but everything feels hazy, unfocused. You’re not sure if it's from the lack of air or the way he’s looking at you, but you can feel yourself losing control. Your eyes flutter half-closed again, lips parting in a breathless moan, and before you realize it, your tongue slips out, barely grazing your lower lip.

Spencer knows you’re close. His thumb presses just a little harder against your throat, not enough to stop you from breathing, but enough for your inner walls to grip his fingers tightly.

“I know, I know, I've got you,” he whispers. “You’re doing so good, sweetheart. Just let go whenever you’re ready."

You can’t decide if the sound of his voice is making it easier or harder to hold on. There’s a brief moment where you think you might hold it together, but then your body betrays you. Your muscles tense, your breath catches in your throat, and all the control you had slips away in an instant. It’s as if your brain is giving in to exactly what he said it would—a surge of chemicals that makes your limbs feel heavy and light all at once.

Your orgasm slams right into you, the most intense thing you’ve ever felt. It floods your senses so completely that your lungs struggle to catch up. The tremors rack your body, and it’s only when your legs give a final, uncontrollable shake that he finally releases your neck, allowing the air to rush back into your lungs in a dizzying, breathless moment of relief.

Before you can fully recover, his lips are on yours in an instant. He moves against your neck, kissing the very spot where his hand had held you. “Shhh, it’s okay, you’re okay.”

When you manage to catch your breath and blink through the lingering haze, he lies down on the bed and pulls you into his arms. It takes a whole minute before your breathing fully steadies, his hand stroking your hair the entire time.

“How are you feeling?”

You don’t know what to make of it all, so you laugh breathlessly instead, the only response you can muster.

“Like I’m about to pass out.”

“What?” He looks at you in alarm. “You are?”

You shake your head quickly, offering him a small smile. “No, no, I’m fine. It’s just… it was really intense.” But the worry doesn’t completely leave his face, so you try again, placing your hand on his chest. “Good intense. I’m okay, I promise.”

He lets out a slow breath and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “So I take it you liked it?”

A flush of embarrassment washes over you, and you can’t quite meet his eyes as you nod. “Yeah… I did,” you admit, your voice soft, almost sheepish. “Go ahead, you can gloat. Tell me I was wrong.”

Instead of taking the bait, he gently traces his fingers along your neck. “It was never about proving you wrong. The judgment you made that day, about not getting why someone would like this… it’s hard to fully grasp until you feel it yourself.”

“I wasn’t judging,” you murmur, feeling a need to defend yourself.

“Maybe not intentionally,” he says thoughtfully. “When it comes to BDSM, there’s a lot of misunderstanding or assumptions people make from the outside, it’s really more than just control or pain. There’s trust, communication, boundaries. And I think, in a way, that’s what happened tonight. You trusted me enough to let go.”

You’re quiet for a moment, processing what he’s saying. “Are you suggesting I could be into all of this?”

“Not necessarily,” he replies carefully. “But I think it’s possible that there’s more to it than you realize. You trusted me tonight, and that’s the most important part. That’s where it all starts.”

You chew on his words for a second. It’s not something you’d ever considered before, but now that he’s brought it up, you can’t deny that the thought has sparked something.

“So you think I might want to explore this further?”

His lips curl into a soft smile. “It’s not about what I think. It’s about what you want. If you’re curious, then we can explore it together.” He leans in slightly. “Is that you want?”

The spark you felt moments ago? It flickers stronger now. The idea is both thrilling and terrifying, but with him, it feels… possible. Safe, even.

You feel a tightness in your chest.

“I think… maybe, yeah.”

His smile deepens just a fraction. “We’ll take our time,” he reassures you, his thumb brushing lightly over your throat. “We can talk about this when we get back. You need to rest for now.”

You shift closer to him, feeling the rustle of his clothes against your bare skin. “Can I stay here tonight?”

His chin lands on top of your head. “You can stay with me as long as you want.”

What a dangerous offer, you think as you sink further into his arms. But not as dangerous as the way your heart flutters at the thought.

[borathae]

If I Was Your Boyfriend

"If he was your boyfriend, he would give you the actual world. Sadly he is just your best friend with the biggest unrequited crush ever."

Pairing: Jungkook x f.Reader

Genre: Unrequited Crush!AU, Idiots in Love!AU, Best Friends to Lovers!AU, Slice of Life, Fluff, Romance

Warnings: OC is scared of a bug (me fr), he kills it for her, he would do anything for her, yearning, unrequited feelings (? mhhm ?), listen. he may be a lil bit dense when it comes to reading signs jsjjss bless his heart, i need him as my boyfriend, so much tension between them, jsjsjs this is pure torture i want them to kiss!!, brief mention of adult toys, miscommunication because he suuucks at love confessions, protective & slightly jealous!Kook, he is the greenest flag though like seriously, the happiest end hihi, the inspo was seven mv kook, she is shorter than him because i have the hugest size kink with him and this is so self-indulgent <3, once again i need him as my boyfie

Wordcount: 10.5k

a/n: sometimes i have ideas for one specific trope without wanting to write the whole book lmaooo, so enjoy this lil slow burn fluff scenario which is so self-indulgent and fanfiction coded. also, it was inspired by a real life event where i found a bug in my bed and i had to kill it on my own :( i was being very brave about it 😔 ps: this is very unrealistic 'cause like why would you only be best friends with HIM? that wouldn't be an unrequited crush if that was me. happy birthday to kookie 💛

The call comes around two at night. Jungkook picks up with the first ring. He was working out before that.

“Hello? Are you okay?” he asks, resting his head against the edge of the sofa as he is currently sitting on the floor. He was doing sit ups before that, trying his hardest to regulate his sped-up breathing right now.

“Kook, please help me.”

Jungkook sits up straight.

“Where are you? Are you safe?”

“I don’t know. I think it’s following me. I locked it inside my room but I can still hear it.”

“Stay with me, I’m getting dressed”, he says, jumping to his feet to hurry to his front door.

“Please hurry please. I’m so scared.”

“I’m coming, don’t worry. Are you home?”

“Yes. Hurry please.”

“I’m coming, stay strong. Yeah?”

“Yes, thank you”, you say and end the call.

Jungkook curses, shoving the phone into his pants pocket. He puts on his jacket as he runs down the hallway and puts on his beanie once he is inside the elevator. He is restless in the small space, wishing for it to go quicker. It’s too slow.

“Come on, come on”, he stresses it, knowing that it is fruitless.

You are his best friend. Well, at least that is what you would call him. Best friend. Jungkook sees so much more in you. His best friend, his person of trust, his crush. He would never tell you his feelings because he doesn’t want to make it awkward. But if there were no consequences for speaking up, Jungkook would tell you that you are his dream girl. You are funny, sweet, caring, talented, intelligent, wonderful, perfect, amazing, beautiful, pretty, stunning. Yes, Jungkook thinks that you are all of these things and more. When he is close to you, his heart races and he wants to keep looking at your face. When you are sad, he wants to make you happy again and when you smile, he wants to keep it on your face. When you aren’t with him, he misses you and when you are with him, he hopes that time stops passing. You are the person he updates on the most mundane of things and whose text messages always bring a quick flutter to his chest. Your voice is the voice he could listen to for hours and your face is the face he doesn’t get tired of staring at when you and he video chat late night till you and he both run out of things to say. And at the same time, you are the person with whom Jungkook never runs out of things to talk about, if he didn’t have to breathe, he would continue to babble to you until your ears wore off. Jungkook swears that if there were no consequences for his words, he would tell you all of this. 

But alas, there are consequences and so Jungkook is left keeping his true feelings hidden.

The outcome of tonight’s phone call obviously wouldn’t have changed whether or not he had romantic feelings for you. Jungkook loves you as a friend as well. And he will always be there for his friends. Especially when they are clearly scared by something.

Jungkook rings your bell. You open the door as if you were waiting for him, grabbing him by his wrists to drag him inside. Jungkook’s entire body flutters at the feeling of your touch. 

“Finally you are here. Come in quick, please”, you tell him.

You must have been sleeping already. You are in your pyjamas and have no make-up on. Jungkook swears that you have never looked more beautiful before. 

“What happened? Did someone break in?” he asks instead of telling you that you are beautiful.

“Worse.”

“Worse?”

“Kook, there is a huge bug in my room. Please kill it.”

Jungkook stops in his tracks. You call him over for that? You stop when you feel his strength all of a sudden, looking over your shoulder. He has his right brow cocked up.

“What?” you stress.

“You give me a heart attack for that?”

“What? Of course. It’s a bug.”

Jungkook sighs in annoyance, “seriously?”

“Yes, seriously.” You round him to shove him by his back. “Kill it for me, please Kook.”

“Fine, I’ll kill it”, he gives up and groans, letting you shove him to your bedroom. Jungkook would never dare to think this way, but right now he wished that you were shoving him to your room for something else. Nothing dirty of course, just cuddles. Lots of cuddles. He would literally trade both his kidneys so he could hold you in his arms until you fall asleep just once. He would make sure that you were warm and that you felt safe in his embrace. He would kiss your face and tell you sweet nothings like how he thinks of you when he listens to love songs and how he wishes that it was you and he whenever he sees a romantic scene in a movie.

God, Jungkook is so done for. 

“Where is this stupid bug?” he acts annoyed to make the yearning a little easier. It is difficult when you have your hands on his back and they are so, so warm.

“In there.” You open the door carefully and look around. “Follow me”, you say, tiptoeing into your room.

Jungkook follows you, smiling fondly. You are cute when you are acting like this. 

“Where is it?” he asks, trying his hardest not to think about how he wants to snuggle you for being cute.

“I don’t know. It was right there when I last saw it.”

“Maybe it’s already gone.”

“No, it was-” 

The bug flies past you, you scream instantly, jumping at Jungkook for help.

“The bug! Eeeek Kooook! I hate bugs!” you squeak, hiding away in his chest.

Jungkook hopes that you can’t feel his racing pulse, because it is racing. You never touched him like this before, let alone snuggled so close to him. 

Act cool. Act cool. Act cool. 

He wraps one arm around you, patting the back of your head. 

“There, there you big baby”, he teases.

“I hate bugs so much”, you whine, snuggling closer.

He glances down at you, feeling every beat his heart takes.

Act cool! Act cool! Act cool!

What if he wrapped both arms around you? Would that go too far? He wouldn’t mean anything dirty behind it, he just really wants to hug you and feel you melt in his arms.

“Kill it, Kook please”, you whine and move your head so you were looking up at him. Your eyes lock.

Jungkook bites down on his tongue, forgetting to breathe for just a few moments.

ACT COOL! ACT COOL! ACT COOL!

What if he cupped your face right here and now to kiss your nose and cheeks and forehead and chin and lips and eyes? What if he did that?

“Please kill it.”

“I am, you gotta let go for that”, he gets out, surprised at how normal his voice sounds eventhough he is currently losing his mind.

Please don’t let go. Please don’t let go. 

You let go. Disappointment from his side. You hide behind him and grab his waist for moral support. Butterflies in his tummy, his knees buckle a little. Holy moly. Holy moly. Wow. Oh wow oh wow oh wow. 

“You’re seriously so brave for this”, you tell him.

“Yeah, yeah or maybe you’re just a scaredy cat.”

He has no idea how he is able to talk properly right now when you have him literally messed up. 

Jungkook inches close to where the bug is sitting on the wall while his thoughts and heart are racing. He has to act nonchalant about the situation. You are only holding him like this because you are scared.

“Do you have a shoe?” he asks you, hating his hand for shaking when he presents it to you.

You bend down and take off your right slipper, “will this do?” 

“Perfect.” 

Jungkook takes the slipper and carefully moves closer to the bug. Your fingers tighten on his waist.

“Careful now”, you comment.

“I am” he gets out, concentrating vigorously. He can’t mess up now, you are counting on him. 

“Almost there. Almost there”, you cheer him on.

Jungkook slams the shoe down. The bug has no chance of escape. You scream.

“Gotcha.”

“Did you get it? Is it dead? Kook, is it dead?”

Jungkook lifts the slipper and looks at the squished bug on its sole. He shows it to you.

“Dead.”

“Yay, it’s dead. Ew how nasty, you can see the intestines.”

“Right. Give me a minute, I’m cleaning it.”

“Use acid for it. Just to be sure it doesn’t come back.

He chuckles, “sure, I’ll use acid.”

He leaves you in your bedroom to hurry to the bathroom. 

Your apartment is familiar to him. He spends a lot of time here. Mostly to chill on your couch and watch shows with you. Sometimes you also cook dinner together and then eat it by the table, while other times you do a workout together. Seriously, you are his fucking dream girl. 

One time as you and he were cooking together, he needed something from the shelf above you, but you couldn’t step away from the stove. So he got it while you were right in front of him and his chest brushed against your back and he swears that he heard your breath hitch for a moment. Jungkook wanted to hug you back then. When you later that evening turned to let him taste the cooking only to use the same fork to taste it yourself, Jungkook almost kissed you. 

One time when you were watching a show, you got cold hands and Jungkook offered to warm them for you. He didn’t think you would accept, but you did and so he ended up with your cold hands under his hoodie as you warmed them up on his skin. Jungkook swears that he wanted to pin you against the sofa and kiss your cute face back then.

One time when you were doing a workout together, you struggled with a movement and asked him for help. He ended up having to hold you by your hips as he guided you through the movement. He wanted to flip you and kiss you senseless back then. 

He never felt like this before. He was scared of these feelings at first, but now he can’t get enough. You are a foodie, a romance lover and a lover for couple workouts and it’s so impossible for him not to be in love. You are seriously his dream girl. There is no fucking way around this.

Jungkook knows that tonight will be such a memory as well. the kind of memory which tingles, but which also makes him regret that he didn’t act differently. When you cuddled into him, he wanted to hug you properly. When you grabbed his waist he wanted to turn in your grasp and kiss you against the door. But he knows that he can’t. He would ruin what you are having and he could never get over this heartbreak.

Jungkook looks at your toothbrush as he cleans the shoe. Sometimes he thinks about how it would feel to be represented in your bathroom as the second toothbrush right next to yours.  

Jungkook bites down on his tongue, burning holes into the empty space next to your toothbrush. He would put so much effort into taking care of himself so you could always look at the best version of him. He would do skincare nights with you. He would try out hair masks with you and rub body lotion on the spots you can’t reach. He would brush his teeth, floss them and use mouthwash religiously just so his kisses would always taste good. He would do all of this if it meant you had an attractive boyfriend.

Jungkook looks away. He is doing it again, he is getting delusional. He shouldn’t do that. It isn’t his right. 

He turns off the water and leaves the bathroom so he could return the slipper to you.

You are in the kitchen, looking at him instantly.

“Is it gone?” you ask him.

“Yup, it’s gone. Your slipper.”

“Thank you seriously. You just saved my life”, you say and lift a bottle of his favorite beer. “Thank You Beer?”

He shakes his head, “I need to drive.”

“Okay. Then a Thank You Water?”

“Yeah, I can drink that.”

Jungkook accepts the offer because he can stay with you longer that way.

“Coming right up. Get comfy in the meantime.”

Jungkook waits on the sofa, but stands up when you come inside the room. He accepts the water and sits back down. You plop down right in front of him, pulling your legs onto the pillow. Your knees are almost touching the side of thigh.

“You seriously saved my ass tonight. I was already in bed when I felt something tickle my arm and then I turned on the lights and it was right on my arm. I screamed so loud, you have no idea.”

“That sounds traumatic.”

“It was traumatic.” You shudder. “I hate bugs.”

Jungkook laughs softly.

“What? Are you laughing at me?”

“No, just laughing ‘cause I agree. You really hate bugs.”

“I do. Awful things, seriously.”

He laughs and you laugh as well. Your eyes meet again. He takes a sip of his water then asks a question which scares him a little.

“Why did you call me?”

“Why not?”

“I, I mean”, he stutters, feeling his heart do somersaults.

“You were my first thought. It’s probably because you’re always keeping me safe.”

Jungkook swears he wants to kiss you right now. He is the first person you think of when you need help. He is your safe person. Wow, wow, wow.

“Is that weird to say?” you ask him shyly.

“Not at all”, he gets out in a terribly hoarse voice.

“Okay phew. I knew that I could count on you.”

Jungkook gives you a smile. One you retort with a vast glance at his lips.

Jungkook brings the empty glass to the kitchen to clean it after he finishes it. You follow him. 

“You don’t have to clean that”, you tell him, trying to reach for the glass but he moves it away.

“I got it”, he assures you, looking at you over his arm.

You and he are so close again. He can’t stop looking into your eyes. He knows that he is delusional, but in his mind, your eyes are so bright when you look at him. But it’s not real and he is acting stupid when he is staring like that. He turns his head away, blind to the few more seconds your eyes seem to linger on his face.

“What were you doing when I called you?” you ask him, watching his hands as he washes the glass.

“Working out.”

“Really? At this time?”

“That’s when I get energised.”

“Of course you do. What were you doing?”

“Just stuff on the floor.”

“Nice. Like push ups and stuff?”

“Yeah and sit ups.”

“That’s cool.” 

He has his back turned to you, putting away the glass. He is wearing a white oversized shirt, but the movement makes it stick to his body, showing not only his skinny waist but also his built, muscular back. His shoulders grew so much over the past seven months. (Seven months ago was when you decided to download a dating app and told Jungkook about it. Jungkook started working out harder since then.) 

He closes the cupboard and turns. 

“Something wrong?” he asks, somehow oblivious to your stares. 

“Nothing, no uhm.” You look to the side. “You probably wanna leave now?”

He doesn’t want to leave.

“If you still need me here, I can stay”, he offers.

Please say yes. Please say yes. Please say yes.

“Really?”

He nods his head, giving you a sweet smile with teeth. He would do anything for you, even mess up his sleep schedule.

“Maybe there is another bug, you know?” you say, playing with your own fingers shyly.

His heart is jumping in joy. He can stay longer. 

“That could be possible, yeah. Should we check?” he offers as calmly as possible.

“Yeah, please.”

Yay! Yay! Yay!

“I know I sound so stupid.”

“You don’t. Come on, I’ll check.”

You and he go to your bedroom together. Jungkook wants to hold your hand, but knows that he can’t. You close the door to your bedroom. His pulse flutters for a moment. In another lifetime, this would be the moment you pull him into a kiss. But Jungkook knows that stupid things like different lifetimes are stuff of movies, not reality.

He has to act as your best friend who doesn’t have a crush on you if he wanted to or not. He lifts your blanket and shakes it out.

“No bugs”, he comments.

“That’s good, yeah. I should probably check the pillows.”

You crawl onto bed and make it your job to flip each individual pillow. Jungkook looks at you for a moment. He hates that things like different lifetimes are stuff of movies. Because in a different lifetime, he jumps onto bed with you to hug you. He listens to your giggle and makes you giggle even harder by tickling your sides.

You, oblivious to his longing stares, flip yet another pillow. 

“No bugs here, thank god. I probably sound insane to you, but I’m actually so scared that there’s a whole bug family in this room.”

“You don’t sound insane. I’ll take care of them if we find them.”

“You’re seriously my hero.”

Jungkook is thinking. Maybe he could still make you laugh, he thinks. Not by showering you in skinship, but differently. 

“Hey, check this out”, he says.

“What? Did you find another bug?!” you gasp, whipping around instantly.

“I’m a bug. Bzzz”, he says and jumps onto bed, flapping his arms as if he was a bug flying.

You cough out air, following it up with a loud laugh.

Jungkook flops onto his back and wiggles his limps.

“Now I’m flipped onto my back and can’t get up”, he says, squirming from side to side stupidly. “Help me. Bzzzz.”

You laugh to the point it becomes just a little ugly and way too loud. At least you would call it that. Jungkook calls it the most beautiful sound he has ever heard. He loves to be goofy when it means that he can make you laugh. Some people call him childish and tell him to act his age, but Jungkook doesn’t care about these people because you love the way he is. You always smile and laugh so much when he gets goofy and childish and it is so worth every rude comment he gets. One time, he played around with a snapback hat, acting silly with it until you cackled loudly. Another time he showed you a card trick with goofy sound effects, basking in the giggles you gave him. He knows that he looks stupid in these moments, but he would literally turn into a silly jester if it meant that you could laugh just one more time.

“Help me, I’m a bug and I can’t get up”, he whines dramatically.

“Wait, I’ll help you”, you joke and place your hands on his torso. One on his chest, the other on his stomach.

He tenses up like a board of wood, forgetting all about being silly. His limbs drop, as does his heart. You are touching him! This never happened before when he acted goofy. What should he do? What is the correct reaction to this?

“Why are you such a heavy bug? I can’t flip you”, you are still being playful with him, but Jungkook can’t find humour anymore. He is starstruck. 

He chuckles deeply, letting out a breathy, “yeah.” 

You glance at him. The second your eyes meet, his heart is racing. You are so fucking beautiful. 

“Heh”, he lets out and places his hand over yours, eyes flitting to your lips unknowingly.

“Hm”, you let out, studying his gazing eyes. Your lips feel kissed just from his look. 

“Mhm”, he hums and smiles, shimmying his head just a little closer to you. He feels your minty breath swirl over his face like this, squeezing your hand in reaction. What if he just did it? What if he just kissed you right here and now?

Your smile falls.

“Sorry”, you whisper, pulling your hands back and sitting up. 

Jungkook gasps for air, coming back to reality. What was this moment? Is he going crazy? Why would he do that?

Your eyes meet for a brief second then you look away again, rubbing the side of your neck.

Jungkook sits up, “I should, uhm, probably check under the bed too, right?” he tries to change topics and rolls over to stick his head under the bed. He might die of heart palpitations.

There are a few boxes under the bed, some shoe boxes and an exposed adult toy. Jungkook does a double take. Oh god, panic.

Jungkook shoots back up, staring at you with big eyes.

“What?”

“You uhm…”

“What?” You crawl to the edge and bend down to look, shooting up again within a second, “What did you see??”

His entire face flushes, he looks to the side instantly, right hand coming to rub the side of his neck. Your entire face feels on fire, you want to die on the spot.

“I, I didn’t see anything I swear”, he stutters.

“Kook, please don’t remember this”, you insist, shaking him by his shoulders.

“It’s seriously fine”, he assures you, panicking so so much.

“This is so embarrassing.”

“No, it’s okay. Sorry for invading your space like that.”

“I’m actually gonna cry, please don’t remember this”, you beg him.

“I didn’t even see anything”, he lies, feeling his heart give up. For real, it will give up. He feels so guilty. You are so upset and uncomfortable and it’s all his fault. “I’m sorry.”

“No you, I guess, I don’t know, I just”, you stutter, unable to form any coherent sentences.

Jungkook feels just as awkward as you, suddenly needing to stand up.

“I think I should go”, he says.

“Really?”

“Yeah, it’s getting late.”

“Oh, yeah. Totally.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. You fucked it. You are internally panicking, blind to the fact that Jungkook is panicking as well.

His face is so red and it’s making him scared that you can see it. He doesn’t want you to think that he is imagining you like that, because he really isn’t. But for just a second it crossed his mind and it managed to dye his face so red that he feels like crying. Of course he wants to stay with you. Of course he wants to spend every single second of this night with you, talking and laughing and looking at you, but he might not be able to get rid of this blush right now. He needs to leave.

You follow behind him, panicking more and more. You let him put on his shoes and his beanie, you watch him close his jacket unable to say anything. You swear that you always clean up after yourself, but you were busy this morning and forgot to put it away after sanitizing it. Jungkook was never supposed to see it. Not him. Everyone but him.

“I’ll text you once I’m home”, Jungkook tells you.

“You’re not disgusted now, are you?” you finally get the scary words out.

“What?”

You are both dragging out the inevitable. 

“I don’t know, just…I tried the dating app stuff. I met people, you know?”

Jungkook feels like dying when you talk about this stuff. He stands in the apartment complex hallways, looking at you as you tell him about your hook ups and he wants to fucking die as he does. He has been loyal to you ever since he started this stupid crush on you. Of course he knows that it is impossible of him to expect the same from you. But he has been so fucking loyal to you that you literally broke his heart seven months ago when you told him about your newest download. He wasn’t strong enough to get over his crush, so now he dies all over again each time you tell him about your hook-ups.

“And it just felt weird. I couldn’t do it”, you confess.

“Really?” suddenly what happened before is wiped from his mind. You never went through with it? His loyalty was reciprocated? Jungkook knows that he is being so delusional right now and yet he still hangs on to your every word like a worshipper of your syllables, staring at your lips as you talk.

“Yeah, but I still have needs, you know? Oh god, why did I say that? This didn’t make it better. Just forget I ever said anything.”

“I, I didn’t hear anything”, Jungkook stutters, feeling weak-kneed. The wall between him being a good person and a reckless person is as fragile as a sheet of fresh ice. One wrong step from you and he might actually confess how he really feels.

“Okay good, let’s keep it at that.” You push at his chest. Jungkook swears he actually whimpers as you do it. “Go home and let us forget about all of this, please.”

Should he do it? Should he be reckless?

You step back, now standing in your apartment.

Do it! Open, mouth!

“Text me once you’re home, okay?”

“Okay.”

No! This isn’t the right thing to say! Be reckless!

“Thank you for tonight, sleep tight.”

“Sweet dreams.”

Tell her! Fucking tell her!

The door closes.

Jungkook falls out of his fearful trance, gasping for air. His heart tells him to knock for another chance, his mind tells him not to. He turns and leaves, hitting his own head as punishment for being the most stupid person that ever existed. Tonight could have gone so well. He could have had more time with you, he got the confirmation that you never tried the dating app thing, he had everything and he has to ruin it by being a creep. Why did he look under your bed? That’s where most people store their sexy stuff. Why did he have to make you uncomfortable? What if you never want to see him again? What if he ruined your friendship without ever doing the one thing he always wished to ruin it with? In his dreams he always ruined it by confessing his feelings, but his reality was because he was a creep.

Jungkook cries in his car on his way home. He forgets about texting you and spends a sleepless night regretting his choices.

Maybe he did fall asleep, otherwise it would be impossible for his phone to rip him awake the next day. He barely opens his puffy eyes at first, but opens them widely when he sees that it is you calling him.

“Hello?” he picks up hastily.

“Oh thank god. You didn’t text me last night and I was worried.”

The text! Jungkook slaps his own forehead, sitting up straight.

“I’m so sorry, I…”

“It’s okay, I already had a gist that you forgot”, you assure him, “do you have time?” 

“Of course, what’s up?”

“You know, uhm.” You laugh in embarrassment. “Last night was a mess, wasn’t it?”

“No uhm, it’s fine.”

“You wouldn’t be down for a grocery trip with barbeque and beer afterwards, would you? My treat, as an apology for traumatising you.”

“Of course, I would. Today?”

“Yes, in like two hours? I’ll get off work soon and could go straight to the store.”

You and Jungkook often go grocery shopping together. You already have a favourite store to go to. Jungkook loves these moments. He loves to carry the heavy bags for you and get the stuff you can’t reach. He loves to push the cart while you tell him about your day and then load the groceries into the bags with you. In another lifetime, you and he push the cart together and he steals kisses between aisles. In another lifetime, he holds your hand and the bags in the other. And in another lifetime, you and he go to your apartment to cook dinner for date night on the couch. Jungkook really wishes to live a different life sometimes.

“Two hours sounds great”, he agrees in a cool voice even if he wants to squeal. He gets to go grocery shopping with you! How amazing!

“Nice, then we’ll see each other there.”

“Yes, we’ll see each other. I’m really excited for it.”

“Me too. See you later, yeah? My boss is coming back.”

“See you later. Good luck at work.” 

“Thanks, Kook. Bye bye.”

Goodbye, my everything, my dream girl, my love. He thinks.

“Bye.” He says.

The phone call ends. Jungkook drops back into the pillow and lets out a yelp of celebration, following it up with excessive kicking and punching of the air as well as  squeaky giggles. 

He didn’t ruin everything and he will see you in two hours. Today is the best day of his life! But wait! Jungkook gasps and jumps out of bed.

“I need to get ready! Shower and wash my hair and pick an outfit! And do my skincare and brush my teeth! There is so much to do, oh god” he talks to himself, running through his apartment.

You are pacing in front of the store. Jungkook isn’t late, you are just early. Early enough to become painfully aware of your nervousness. You wonder how it will be between the two of you after last night. You could barely fall asleep because you were so embarrassed. Work didn’t distract you either, your thoughts kept repeating what had happened last night. You hope that he doesn’t look at you differently after what he had to see. It would literally ruin you.

Jungkook is your best friend. But if someone asked you honestly, you would say that he is the boy of your dreams. He is everything you ever dreamed of and everything you will never be able to have. He is too perfect for you. If there were no consequences for your actions, you would tell him how you really feel. You would tell him that you think that he is the most attractive man and person you have ever seen, that he is the kindest soul with the sweetest heart. That he is talented and amazing and the funniest person ever. And that you feel safe with him. 

You would tell him that every time he comes to your place or you to his’ and you spend time together, you wish that it was a date instead. You want to tell him that every time your bodies touch, your heart jumps out of your chest. You want to tell him that you keep repeating all the moments with him over and over again and that sometimes at work, you text him because you can’t stop thinking about him. You also want to tell him that you thought about killing the bug yourself before deciding to call Jungkook just to have him close.

And the worst of it all? You want to tell Jungkook that the only reason why you downloaded the dating app was to get over your feelings for him because you knew that someone as perfect as Jungkook would never want to have you. But actions have consequences and so you call him your best friend whilst secretly wishing for him to just be reckless and kiss you.

Jungkook appears on the horizon, swerving through the crowd in a stoic expression. Your heart speeds up instantly. He is wearing black pants with a stripped shirt and a black jacket today. His hair falls on soft waves, his skin glows in the sun. He is so dreamy and handsome. 

His eyes find you in front of the store, his face lights up and he lifts his arm to wave at you. You wave back, bouncing on your tiptoes. He saw you! He is waving at you! 

He hurries through the crowd faster than before, reaching you within moments.

“Hey there”, he says.

“Hey”, you tell him and give him a hug. 

Jungkook short circuits. He gets no time to react before you already step back again. You just hugged him. Holy moly, wow. 

“Sorry, was that not okay?” you ask, studying his frozen features.

“What?” He flinches back to life. “No, it was amazing, I mean, it was okay. I uhm, I have this for you.”

He lifts a bouquet of sunflowers.

“Sunflowers? For me?”

“Yeah, I saw them and thought of you.”

“You did?”

You accept them with shortened breath and a quickened heart. You are currently screeching inside. You feel on cloud nine.

“A-as a best friend of course, because we’re best friends.”

“Oh. Yes.” You clear your throat. “We are. Thank you for the friendship flowers. I’ll put them in water once I’m home. Hopefully they’ll survive till then.” 

“I’m sure they will. That’s why I put the paper towel there.”

“I know, I saw. That’s so clever.”

“Yeah, thanks.” He does a little twirl so he stands next to you, hands stuffed into the pockets of his pants in a cute way. “So what do we need? Any particular groceries in mind?” 

You and he start walking to the store. He opens the door for you, holding it until you are inside. He follows and goes straight for the carts. You are next to him.

“Yes, I’m out of multigrain rice so I’m buying all of them to make my mixture again and I wanna stock up on udon because they have a sale going on.”

“Neat, a sale. I’ll get some too”, Jungkook says, leaning his elbows on the cart as he pushes it. “I wanna see if they have the lychees again. They were so yummy last time.”

“They were. Especially with that sauce you made.”

“I can make them for you again.”

“Really?” 

He nods his head, “sure, you could come over Saturday and we’ll watch a movie. I heard that there’s a few new movies to stream.”

“I should be free on Saturday.”

“Nice, then you’ll come over.”

You and he exchange a look, breaking it quickly to look at opposite sides. Unbeknownst to either, you are both panicking. Jungkook is so excited to have you come over but is also terribly nervous about the aspect of it. You can’t wait to visit Jungkook but are also scared of the yearning. 

A moment of silence where you each fill the cart with stuff you want. You and Jungkook always fill up the cart together and then separate the groceries afterwards. In another lifetime, you don’t need to separate the groceries. In another lifetime, you share the same bag and fill the same fridge to cook from the same pots and eat on your shared couch whilst a show was running. 

“How was your day?” Jungkook asks because other lifetimes don’t exist and in his real life, the only shared thing he gets with you is time.

“It was okay. Yours?”

“I woke up like two hours ago.”

You chuckle, “of course you sleep while I have to work my ass off.”

“Hey, I’m on a well-deserved break, I earned the night owl lifestyle”, he throws back, making you laugh with it.

“I’m not saying anything against it. I need a break soon.”

“Is work stressful?”

“Yeah, quite. There’s been lots of new projects coming in.”

“No, I’m sorry. If there is something I can do, let me know.”

You look at him. 

“I will, thank you.”

In another lifetime, you would hug his arm and rest your head against it and you would tell him that you don’t mind a stressful workday when it meant spending time with him afterwards. 

Jungkook meets your eyes. His heart flutters nervously, speeding up more when you look away. If he was your boyfriend, he would hold your hand and tell you that you looked beautiful after a long work day. 

“I like the way you did your hair today”, he says instinctively. He has no idea why he said that because he never says stuff like that to you. He panics because of it. His tongue worked quicker than his brain. 

You reach up to feel your hair, “you do?”

“Yes, it fits you really well.” 

“Thank you”, you murmur and cross a corner without warning, leaving him alone for a few seconds.

Jungkook follows after you hastily, confused as to why you so abruptly fled. Oh no. He went too far with the compliment. He definitely creeped you out again. 

You are squatting down in front of the grain section, reading the labels carefully. Jungkook parks the cart next to you, standing still. He tries not to, but still looks at you. You shift your eyes to him, widen them and look away again. Jungkook swears he might cry. He made you uncomfortable. 

“I’m sorry for saying that. I, I meant it as a friend.”

“Hm? Ah, it’s okay. Thank you for saying it, I liked it”, you say and stand up, filling the cart with the grain. Jungkook’s heart flutters happily. He didn’t mess up. Yay!

“Got everything you wanted?” he asks.

“Yep, except black rice. Do you see it somewhere?”

“Up there”, Jungkook says, pointing at it. The lower racks are empty, only the racks which are clearly for staff to reach so they could refill the store are stacked with the rice. 

“Nice.” You try to reach it, but fail. “Kook, can you get it?”

“Sure, let me”, he says, stepping right behind you to get the rice from the staff rack. His chest brushes against your back. You gasp. He feels dizzy, but acts nonchalant.

“There we go your….rice”, Jungkook says, eyes flitting down to you looking up at him. He didn’t even realise that you turned. 

There is almost no distance and so Jungkook tries to step back to be respectful because friends don’t stand this close. You grab him by his jacket, making him gulp and panic greatly. His left hand grabs the edge of the shelf, his chest lifts in a deep gasp. You are taller today because of the shoes you are wearing. The shortened distance between your lips is making him dizzy.

“About last night”, you begin, but he interrupts you before you apologise for something you have no reason to.

“It’s alright. I shouldn’t have snooped, I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t snoop, I just…I clean up, I was just busy and forgot and I”, you exhales deeply, “I’m not making it any better talking by about it, am I?”

He laughs softly and reaches down to cup your hand, caressing your knuckles softly. The lines blur more and more. You both feel weightless. You can smell his cologne like this, he can smell your perfume. It’s like you are high on each other.

“If it makes you feel any better, I have some toys too”, he says, making your eyes widen. You look to the side and let out a giggle. Jungkook knows that it is of shy nature and so he giggles with you. “Did that help or did I just embarrass myself for nothing?”

“No, it helped.” You meet his eyes, fingers squeezing his jacket. 

Jungkook holds his breath, fingers tightening on the shelf. He is being so greedy. It’s so unfair to you. 

“I, uhm.” He clears his throat and slips his hand from the shelf to present the rice to you. “Your rice.”

“Oh? Thanks, uhm, put it in the cart.” 

He steps back. Your hands slip from his jacket, his fingers stop holding you. They tingle in the memory of how it was to cradle you this way. His thoughts are racing, trying to calculate the weight of his confession. If he confessed, what would he lose? Your friendship, your time, the movie hangouts, the cooking together, the shared workouts, your texts and calls and video chats. All your laughter and smiles and giggles. Jungkook gulps. The loss is too great. He can’t confess. Nope, never. 

He grips the cart and pushes it, hoping that walking it off will help with the heart palpitations. You walk next to him, resting your hand on the metal cage part of the cart.

“Did you sleep well last night?” he asks you.

“Can I be honest? Not really. I was so embarrassed.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. I’m just awkward.”

He chuckles, you chuckle with him. You give him a glance.

“I think I don’t have to ask you if you slept well at night because you never sleep at night.”

He laughs, you do as well.

“That’s not true. I can sleep at night too, I simply choose not to. Oh wait. I need buckwheat noodles.”

You and he stop in front of the section. You stay by the cart while Jungkook browses the options. 

“Should I make you makguksu?” he offers mindlessly.

“Today?”

“Yeah.”

“So you don’t wanna go for barbecue and beer?” You chuckle and nudge his arm, sending tingles all over his skin. “Did you already forget again, you doofus?”

“I might have.” He gives you a sorry, cute smile.

Jungkook makes you laugh with it.

“Kook, you little scatterbrain you”, you chuckle, leaning into him. 

Jungkook leans closer, placing his arm around your waist without touching you. In another lifetime, he would close the last distance. But not in reality. He looks at your lips, asking himself why you seek him out today and why he takes the chances so greedily. He shouldn’t do that. You are just friends, nothing more.

“Uh, sorry”, you say and step away again. 

Jungkook gulps, gasps for air. He doesn’t understand what today means, but whatever you are doing is actually messing with him. He hasn’t been able to breathe properly ever since that hug you gave him. You seem so clingy, but he doesn’t understand why. 

You grab the cart and push it.

“I think I have everything I need. You?”

“Yeah, yeah sure”, Jungkook stutters, stumbling after you like a lovesick puppy. He doesn’t know where to put his hands and so he ends up stuffing them into his pants pockets while his eyes are glued to the back of your head. He is seriously under your spell. Every part of him.

You load the groceries on the conveyor belt together and then load them into separate bags. You pay for all of them and wish the cashier a good day. Jungkook carries the bags like always, while you are allowed to walk freely with the bouquet of flowers cradled in your arms.

“I’ll pay you back at home”, he says, swerving outside as you hold the door open for him.

“Today’s on me. As a thank you for yesterday and an apology.”

“What? But I bought so much”, Jungkook gasps, pouting sadly.

“It’s fine. I have money.”

“But-”

“No buts. I’m paying.”

Jungkook pouts, huffing out air in defeat.

“Fine, but I’ll pay for your stuff too one day.”

You chuckle, “deal.” 

You and he walk together.

“You should really start accepting when I offer. It’s not a competition.”

“I just feel uncomfortable making you pay.”

“Why?”

Because you’re his dream girl and you should never have to pay for him. He should be your wallet whenever you are out together, he should fulfil your every wish. 

“I don’t know, just so. You work so hard for your money.”

“You work just as hard”, you say and chuckle. “Kook, you’re so competitive.”

Jungkook smiles, shaking his head in defeat. 

“I guess am.”

You grin, hugging the flowers tighter. With a little skip in your steps, you close the distance. Just enough that one small movement would be enough for your arms to brush. 

Jungkook glances at you. You are gazing at the flowers, smiling so brightly that your nose scrunches up. He could swear that your eyes are sparkling. 

The lines blur again. He wonders if it would be okay for him to be a bad person, if he was allowed to slip his hand into yours even if you never gave him consent for it. There is not much he can still take.

You lower your nose into the flowers and smell them, closing your eyes in a happy squint. The metaphorical glass of how much Jungkook can take floats over.

He says your name and knows that the next words are coming out of him before he can think them through.

“Yeah?” You look at him.

He is nervous and scared, but still talks, “can we talk about something?”

“Sure. What’s up?”

Panic. His situation finally sunk into his consciousness. 

“I uhm…uh…I have a crush on someone.”

Microexpressions wash over your face. Shock, surprise, disbelief, jealousy, hurt, friendliness. A smile curls your lips. It doesn’t reach your eyes.

“Yeah? It’s about time you do”, the words and your voice carry a hint of teasing, but most of all forced friendliness.

You lower the flowers, carrying them in one hand by your side. They look sad like this. Jungkook doesn’t notice because he is staring at the road in front of him because otherwise he would pass out in nervousness. He is almost twenty seven, but feels sixteen again.

“She’s like really, really great and awesome and amazing and wonderful and so kind and perfect”, Jungkook continues, heart racing to the point he feels dizzy. He saw this kind of confession in movies. He always thought that it was so cute when the guy did it. It isn’t obvious enough to ruin everything just in case you didn’t feel the same, but it is still cute enough that you can’t help but be giddy.

“Mh-hm”, you hum, nodding your head. 

“And I keep thinking about her. She is so pretty when she laughs and I love being in her presence. She likes my jokes and she always makes me laugh in return. Yeah…”

“That’s great.”

“Yeah, she is so great. I really wanna ask if she feels the same.” Jungkook falters in nervousness. He is going to ask the question. He is so scared. “If you were me, what would you do?”

You take a deep breath and release it loudly, “I don’t know. I haven’t had a crush in so long.”

Jungkook falters, heart tightening. Oh no. Oh no, oh no. Oh. This is bad. This is really bad. 

“Ah, I see.” He gulps.

“But let me know if you figure it out. Then we can go on a double date.” 

Wait. Wait. This is bad. Double date? This is so bad.

“What do you mean?” he asks weakly.

“You know, you and your girl and me and my boy.”

“You have a boy?”

“Yeah, soon. I’m talking to this boy on the dating app. He is very cute.”

“But…didn’t you say that you gave up on the app?”

“No uh…no, it’s just that I only talk to this one boy now.”

Jungkook bites back tears.

“I see.” 

“Mhm, yeah. Let’s go on a double date.”

No. No this is all wrong. No this isn’t what was meant to happen. No. 

“Please.”

Jungkook doesn’t even realize that he begged out loud until you look at him in question.

“Please what?”

You and he stop. Strangers stream past you like you and he were two rocks in a river. You are facing each other, so close yet so far away. 

You lied to him. There is no other boy. There never was and never will be. But there will always be other girls for him while you stay his best friend. Lying is all that you have at this point. 

“Please what?” you repeat the question.

“I…” Jungkook breathes. “I…nevermind.”

Silence. Your eyes are locked so deeply that the world around you is blurry.

“Okay?”

“Mhm yeah.”

His jaw tightens and he breaks the eye contact, looking to the side with his tongue in his cheek. He seemed angry. You would be lying if you said that you weren’t feeling angry yourself. You turn away from him and continue walking. You don’t want to be next to him right now. It hurts to only stay his best friend.

He looks at the back of your head and how it becomes smaller and smaller from distance. He doesn’t understand you. He thought that the way you looked at him in the store meant something. And yet all this time you had another boy. He feels so betrayed that for just a second, he considers walking the other direction and leaving you to wonder where he went. However, two things hold him back; his competitiveness and his honest feelings for you.

He won’t stay your best friend any longer. He just decided that. He is going to fight for you, make you fall for him and forget all about the stupid boys you meet on this stupid dating app. He is better than any of them. He could treat you better, make you laugh harder, give you better hugs and kisses and provide you with afterglow so addicting you will get hot cheeks at work just thinking about it. He is your best friend, goddamn it, and he knows you better than any of these strangers ever will. And he is not going to lose you to some boy.

He jogs to catch up with you, calling your name with a certain harshness.

You turn. Your eyes meet. Jungkook’s brain short circuits.

“What?” you ask him, sounding small because of being called so harshly.

“I, I was just wondering, uhm, should we get ice cream after?” he asks because he panicked.

You shrug your shoulders, “I guess.”

“It’s on me, yeah?”

“Yeah, okay.”

Jungkook inches closer, saying your name softly.

“What do you want?”

“I messed up before.”

“What do you mean?”

“I, I just. I thought that I was doing a good job, but I think I made you think something else.”

“Jungkook. I had a long day, please don’t talk in riddles.”

“Don’t date other boys.”

“Excuse me?”

Jungkook gulps, panicking because of your offended and harsh tone.

“I, I, I just”, he stutters, widening his eyes.

“No. What do you mean? I can date who I want.”

“I know, I didn’t mean it like that. I meant that, oh god, I meant that I don’t want you to see other boys.”

“Huh?”

“Ah no, wait.”  He slaps his own forehead. “Wait.”

You cross your arms in front of your chest, “what makes you think that you can tell me what I can or can’t do?”

“No I didn’t mean it like that. Wait just give me a moment, please I’m panicking.”

You purse your lips, studying his face intensely.

“Are you also so nervous?” he asks.

“What’s with you all of a sudden?” you ask him, honestly worried. His face is as red as ripe strawberries.

Jungkook closes the distance and takes your hands, eliciting a gasp from you. He squeezes them gently, staring into your eyes as deeply as possible.

“This wasn’t how I always imagined this to go, but I can’t stay quiet anymore. ___, the girl I have a crush on is-”

“Seriously?”

You and Jungkook turn around at the angry voice next to you.  

“Suho? What are you doing here?” you ask.

“Who’s that?” Jungkook says.

“Kim Suho. I met him on the dating app. We went on like one date a month ago”, you explain and slip your hands out of Jungkook’s hold to turn to the other guy, “what are you doing here?”

Jungkook stares at him darkly, clenching his jaw. You told him about this dude in passing. He hates him so much, hating him even more now that he interrupted this moment.

“That’s what you’re going with? Seriously?” Suho throws back.

“Yeah, you-”

“What the fuck are you doing with him? I told you to stop being friends with him, didn’t I?”

Jungkook looks at you with big eyes. You never told him that. You always said that you lost interest in Suho because of different hobbies, but never mentioned that he could have been the actual reason.

“And I told you that you can’t tell me what to do. Jungkook is my best friend and I won’t give him up for a man.”

“Yes but I wasn’t any man, I was your man.”

“Huh? No you weren’t. We went on one date and you totally lost it when I told you that I had a male best friend.”

“Because he isn’t just your friend. You’re in love with him.”

Jungkook swears that he passes out standing up for a second. Feelings? You have feelings for him? Did you tell Suho that or is he assuming because he is one of those weird men that think women aren’t allowed to have male friends? What does all of this mean?

“What?” You laugh nervously. “No? Of course not.”

“Oh don’t be ridiculous. I followed you from work and through the store. I saw everything.”

“Huh? What?” you gasp, hurrying to Jungkook instinctively because you know that he will keep you safe.

“Dude, what the fuck? You creep, stay away from her”, Jungkook says harshly and steps in front of you, feeling the fire of protectiveness start to burn in his chest.

“I saw what I saw. You have feelings for each other”, Suho says, pointing an accusing finger at you and Jungkook.

Jungkook and you exchange a look. 

“No I…”

Suho scoffs and looks at Jungkook.

“And you? Gonna fucking pretend that you’re just friends or should I start punching you?”

“Dude, I’ve never even met you”, Jungkook defends himself, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“I’ll still fucking punch you.”

“Don’t you dare”, you hiss at him.

“Shut up, ___.”

“Hey, don’t talk to her like that”, Jungkook speaks up loudly, making himself bigger. He doesn’t care when people are aggressive to him, but he cannot accept aggression towards you.

“Or what?”

“You wanna find out? Don’t talk to her like that.”

Suho rushes to Jungkook and pushes at his chest. He thought that he could move him, but he can’t. Jungkook just gawks at him in utter surprise.

“What are you doing?” he asks confused.

“Why aren’t you budging? Fall over you idiot”, Suho growls and tries again with all his might. 

Jungkook takes a small step back but then stays unmoving. 

“Dude, seriously. What are you doing?”

Suho growls and punches Jungkook. Except that he is so bad at it that Jungkook can easily dodge him. He reacts calmly to the aggression, redirecting Suho by turning him and giving him a gentle push away from him.

Suho stumbles and whips around.

“You-”

Jungkook steps closer, “give it up, man.”

Suho shifts his attention to you, pointing his finger at you. He tries to get to you by swerving past Jungkook, but the latter steps in front of you again, stopping Suho with a firm hand on his chest. He didn’t show it, but the contact was definitely made with strength because Suho stumbles back from it.

“I said. Give it up. I’m not gonna repeat myself again”, he warns. For just a second his voice was deeper than usual and his eyes darker. You can’t stop staring in awe, feeling so attracted to him that it is difficult not to grab him right here and now.

Suho ignores him, talking over Jungkook’s shoulder.

“It’s over. I’m breaking up with you.”

“Huh? We weren’t even together in the first place?” you say very confused.

“Yes, well…. Now it’s really over. And just so you know, I’ll block you on everything.”

“I mean, okay.”

Suho turns and runs down the street clumsily.

A moment of silence. Jungkook turns to you. He is ready to take you into his arms if you need support.

“Everything okay?” he asks hesitantly.

“Honestly? I couldn’t care less about this tantrum. What the fuck was that? We went on one date and it sucked ass. I mean, who in their right mind expects someone to give up their best friend? I don’t even know this dude.”

“Would you have done it if you liked him?”

“What? No, of course not. I like you, not him.”

“What?!”

You look at Jungkook with big eyes.

“I, I mean…” you look at his lips and Jungkook finally notices.

Holy fuck. Suho was right.

He drops the grocery bags and closes the distance, cupping your face. To his delighted surprise, you practically melt into his hands, gazing at him with dreamy eyes and your fingers closing around his wrists greedily.

“Was he right?” Jungkook asks, looking between your right and left eye. “Do you have feelings for me?”

“I’m scared”, you whisper.

“Scared of what?”

“You are so perfect and I’m not. I don’t want to know how you feel about me, so just…let’s just forget about what happened please.”

“You’re not perfect? What the fuck? You’re literally perfect. If someone’s unworthy, it’s me.”

“What?”

Jungkook gulps. 

You touch his chest.

“Kook, what?”

“You’re my fucking dream girl, ___” he finally confesses and now can’t be stopped, “I get excited when you text me and get sad when I don’t hear from you. Each time we hang out, I kinda wish that we somehow magically end up together. I repeat every little touch and shared laughter and look. Sometimes I can’t fall asleep because of you, but wish to do so because in my sleep I can meet you in my silly, wishful dreams. Do you have any idea how in love I am with you?”

“Are you serious?” 

Jungkook nods his head, forcing your tears to finally flow. He gasps and begins wiping them away instantly.

“I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m sorry. Please don’t cry, I promise I won’t try anything. You, you won’t lose your best friend.”

“I’m just happy. So happy.”

“You are?”

“I feel the same for you. I have done so for a long time.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.” You sniffle. “You’re my dream boy too, Jungkook.”

“Oh my god. Oh my god! Yippie!” he exclaims and overtaken by happiness, he swoops you off your feet to twirl with you, making you squeal happily as you hold onto him for dear life. Strangers definitely look at you weird, but you couldn’t care less. They are non-existent for you and him. He likes you and you like him back. This day is the best day you and he ever had.

He sets you down after the twirling, cradling your face so he could hold it still for way too many kisses. He gives you kisses everywhere except your lips, making you giggle and laugh and tingle the entire time.

“I’m so happy, you’re so pretty and perfect and amazing and pretty and amazing and I’m gonna kiss you there and there and there and oh my god you’re so perfect, I’m gonna kiss you there and there, wow oh wow…” he babbles between kisses, truly sending your heart into overdrive.

He probably would have continued his babbling for hours if you hadn’t stopped him by lacing your fingers in his hair and pulling his mouth into a kiss.

“Andmhgmh”, he lets out, gawking at you first before the realisation of his situation sinks in. His knees buckle, his left hand grabs your hips and his right hand cradles your head, eyes falling closed. He is kissing you. He feels weightless, floating in time and space. His heart races so much that he feels it throb against his ribcage, the butterflies in his stomach are unbearably exciting. He dreamt of this moment a million times before, fantasised about it twice as much and yet he still wasn’t ready for it. Your kiss is like heaven on earth. He swears that he gains new life through it. He wants to kiss you until his lungs run out of air, but you break it.

“Was that okay for me to do?” you ask him shyly.

Now it’s his turn to spill tears and for you to wipe them.

“I’m sorry, I should have ask-”, you don’t get to finish your sentence, getting kissed again by Jungkook.

“I’m so fucking happy, you have no idea”, he murmurs, showing you his feelings one deep kiss at a time. “You taste so good.” Kiss, oh so deep. “Your lips are so soft.” Kiss, the kind which makes your knees wobble. “You’re perfect, you’re so perfect.”

You giggle, gazing up at him droopily. Jungkook giggles as well, peeling his eyes open to gaze dreamily. You and he cup each other’s faces, resting your foreheads together.

“I’m happy.”

“I’m happy too.”

“Wow, I’m so happy.”

“Me too. So happy.”

You giggle together, swaying from side to side. Nothing, truly nothing, has never felt as right as this.

“Were you trying to confess to me before Suho interrupted us?”

“Yeah.”

You giggle as you talk, “you were really shit at it. I thought you were talking about someone else.”

“I know, I panicked so bad. I was so nervous”, he is giggling too, “are you actually talking to another boy?”

“Of course not, you doofus. I lied.”

“Oh my god, I’m so relieved”, he gets out and sweeps you off your feet again, carrying you under your butt. He twirls with you, smiling up at you as you squeak and laugh with your head thrown back.

“Jungkook stop please, I’m getting dizzy.”

He sets you down, but keeps touching you, seeking your closeness by rubbing his nose against your cheek. He is so close that the sunflowers are getting squished between you and him. It is a price you sadly have to pay in exchange for finally being able to be glued together.

“I’m so happy, I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Kook. So like barbeque and beer? Is it a date?” you ask.

“It’s the datiest date that has ever dated”, he says, making you giggle because he is so cute and funny and you like him so, so much. He giggles with you because you are so perfect and perfect and perfect and he likes you so, so much.

“I feel like we have a lot to talk about.”

“Yeah, oh god.” He kisses your cheek multiple times. “You have to tell me all the thoughts you had when we hung out. Were you also so giddy, oh god, I was always so giddy and I kept looking at you because you are so pretty. Were you looking at me too? And, and did you also wish for me to be reckless? I always wanted you to just kiss me. I’m talking so much, wow, I’m so happy.”

You giggle, cuddling into him, “you’re the cutest person ever. I can’t wait to tell you everything.”

You nudge him to leave, but stop when Jungkook exclaims a loud “wait!”

“What’s wrong?”

“The groceries. I almost left them here”, he says, bending down to get them.

“Oh god, you’re so cute”, you snicker, hugging his arm and nuzzling into him like you always wanted to do.