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therealvinelle · 3 years ago

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I've always wondered this, but what do you think the Cullen's political viewpoints would be, given their individual backgrounds? if vampires don't change after they turn, then surely they would all be extremely racist (especially Jasper). would this not come up at some point? they aren't like the Volturi because the Volturi are too old to care, but the Cullens are young enough that they have been brought up with opinions on stuff like sexism, racism, homophobia and the like.

Oh fuck.

You get an early answer because otherwise I'll just chicken out and delete this one, pretend I never saw it.

UMMM.

Since I'm guessing you meant American political viewpoints, we need a disclaimer. I am not American, and not too knowledgeable about your politics. Not just in the sense that I don't follow the day-to-day drama, but as I am not an American citizen there are several things I don't know, can't know because I've never lived in your country and therefore can't know what the effects of living in a country ruled by American policies is like. What I do know is based off of the news in the foreign section, social media (by which I mean tumblr posts), and Trevor Noah's Daily Show.

I am an outsider looking in.

Which is really rather appropriate, since the Cullens are too.

The Cullens go to high school and college, Carlisle works, they pay taxes, they own real estate, and submerge themselves in American culture. Esme, Edward, Rosalie, Emmett, and Bella are young enough that this is in many ways their world, and apart from timeouts they've more or less spent their entire lives, human and vampire, integrated into American society.

Not fully integrated, mind you, they do what they need to to fit in and get to school or, in Carlisle’s case, to work. They go no further. No extra-curriculars for the kids, no book clubs for Esme, no game nights for Carlisle. They walk parallel to humans, not among us.

In addition to this they're obscenely rich, which puts them another thousand miles from the experiences of your average American. They won't deal with the health system, which means healthcare is a non-issue, they're not going to need welfare or other social programs, unemployment is another non-issue. Name your issue, and the Cullens don't have personal stake in it. Even the climate crisis won't be a problem for them the way it will for us.

What I'm trying to say is, American political issues are a concept to them, not a lived reality. Just like they are for me. So hey, you made a great choice of blog to ask.

I'll also add here that you say the Volturi are too old to care, and I agree- from an ancient's point of view, racism is a matter of "which ethnicity are we hating today?", and it all looks rather arbitrary after a while. Same with every other issue - after a while it all just blends together into "what are the humans fighting over today? Which Christian denomination is the correct one? Huh. Good for them, I guess."

I can't put it any better than this post did, really. The Volturi are real people, humans are nerds and tumblr having Loki discourse. Aro thinks it's delightful and knows entirely too much about Watergate (and let's be real, Loki discourse as well), but the point I wanted to get at is that politics really don't matter to vampires.

And I don't think they matter to the Cullens either.

So, moving on to the next point while regretting I didn't put headlines in this post, I'll just state that I don't think vampires' minds are frozen. Their brains are unable to develop further, and they can never forget anything, but... well, this isn't the post for that, but in order for this to be true of vampires they would barely be sentient. They would not be able to process new impressions, to learn new things, nor to have an independent thought process. Yes, we see vampires in-universe (namely, Edward, who romanticizes himself and vampires) believe they're frozen and can never change, but there is no indication that this is a widespread belief, or even true. Quite the contrary - Carlisle went from a preacher's son who wanted to burn all the demons to living in Demon Capital for decades and then becoming a doctor and making a whole family of demons. Clearly, the guy has had a change in attitude over the years. Jasper, in his years as a newborn army general, slowly grew disenchanted with his life and developed depression. James initially meant to kill Victoria and hunted her across the earth, then became fascinated and changed his mind about it.

Had these people been incapable of change, Carlisle would still be hating demons, Jasper would be in Maria's army, and James would still be hunting Victoria.

It goes to follow, then, that they are able to adapt to new things.

The question is, would they?

Here I finally answer your question.

So, we have these people who don't really have any kind of stake in politics, who keep up to date all the same (or are forcibly kept up to date because high school) and are generally opinionated people.

Where do they then fall, politically?

(And this is where you might want to stop reading, anon, because I'm about to eviscerate these people.)

Alice votes for whoever's gonna win. She also makes a fortune off of betting each election. Trump's 1 to 10 victory in 2016 was a great day to be Alice. MAGA!

The actual policies involved are completely irrelevant, she does this because it's fun. Election means she gets to throw parties. Color coded parties for the Republican and Democratic primaries, and US-themed parties for Election Night! (Foreigner moment right here: I at first wrote "Election wake" before realizing that's not what y'all murricans call it.)

Alice loves politics. Doesn't know the issues, but she sure loves politics.

Bella votes Democrat. She actually knows about the issues, and cares about them. This girl is a Democrat through and through.

Carlisle doesn't vote. I can't imagine it feels right. Outside of faked papers he's not a US citizen, this is meddling in human affairs that he knows don't concern him.

More, this guy has never lived in a democracy.

In life, Carlisle lived under an absolute monarchy that, upon civil war, became an absolute theocracy. From there he learned that vampires live under a total dictatorship.

For the first 150 years of his life, democracy was that funky thing the Athenians did in history books thousands of years ago, no more relevant to him than the Ancient Egyptian monarchy is to me. Then the Americans, and later other European countries started doing this.

Good for them.

There's this mistake often made by those who view history from a... for lack of a better term, a solipsistic standpoint. A belief that the present day is the culmination of all of history. “My society is the best society, the most reasonable society; all the others had it backwards. Thank god we’re living in this enlightened age!”

The faith in our current system of government is one such belief. We (pardon me if this doesn’t apply to everybody reading this post) have grown up in democracies, being told this is the ultimate form of rule, and perhaps that is true - but remember the kings who have told their subjects they had were divine and the best possible ruler based on that. Remember also that most modern democracies haven’t actually been democracies for very long at all, America is the longest standing at some 230 years (not long at all in the grand scope of things) and they have a fracturing two-party system to show for it.

Every society, ever, has been told they’re the greatest, and their system of government the most just. Democracy is only the latest hit.

This is relevant to Carlisle because he’s immortal and decidedly not modern. Democracy has not been installed in him the way it was the rest of the Cullens, Jasper included. To him- well, it’s just not his world. He has no stakes in our human politics, and as he is older than every current democracy and has seen quite a few of them fall, he’s not going to internalize the democratic form of rule the way a modern human has.

I think the concept of voting is foreign to him.

It requires a level of participation in human society that he’s simply not at. He does the bare minimum to appear human so he do the work he loves, but nothing more, and I find that telling.

As it is I think he'd be iffy about his family doing it. He won’t stop them, but in voting they’re... well it’s kind of cheating. They’re not really citizens, none of this will affect them, and by voting they’re drowning out the votes of real human voters. He does not approve.

Edward votes Democrat. He's... well he’s the kind of guy who will oil a girl’s bedroom window so he can more easily watch her sleep without being discovered, justifying it to himself as being okay because if she were to tell him to get lost he’d stop immediately. Same guy is so sure that he’d leave and never return again if she wanted him to, except this is the man who returned to Forks to hang around his singer, knowing there was a significant chance he might kill her. To say nothing of his Madonna/Whore complex, or of the fact that he tried to pimp out his wife twice, and was willing to forcibly abort her child.

This guy is very much in love with chivalry, with being an enlightened and feminist man who supports and respects women, while not understanding the entire point of feminism, which is female liberation.

He votes Democrat because he’s such an enlightened feminist who cares about women’s rights.

Emmett doesn’t care to vote, but if he has to he votes Republican. The guy is from the 1930′s, and has major would-be-the-uncle-who-cracks-racist-jokes-if-he-was-older vibes.

Esme doesn’t vote, that would require getting out of the house.

More, I just... can’t see it. I can’t see her being one to read up on politics and The Issues, period, but if she has to then I doubt she’d be able to decide.

Jasper doesn’t vote. Alice can have her fun, he does not care.

There’s also the whole can of worms regarding the last time he went to bat for American politics.

I imagine he stays out of this.

Renesmée doesn't vote. She has no stock in the human affairs. Who would she vote for, on what grounds? When Bella tries to pull her to the urns, she points out that she's three years old.

Rosalie, guys, I’m sorry, but that girl is definitely gonna vote Republican. Perhaps not right now as it’s become the Trump party of insanity, but the Mitt Romney type of Republicans? Oh yes.

And for the record, yes I imagine she does vote. To step back from politics would be another way she was relinquishing her humanity, and that’s not allowed to happen. So, yes, she goes to the urns, less for the sake of the politics involved and more because like this, she’s still a part of society in some way.

Now, onto why I think she’s Republican, I think it’s both fiscal and social.

This girl was the daughter of a banker who somehow profited off of the Depression, and who then became part of a family with no material needs that would soon become billionaires thanks to Alice. Poverty to Rosalie is a non-issue, as it is I imagine she views it as a much lesser issue than what she’s had to deal with. The humans can pull themselves up by their bootstraps, Rosalie’s infertility is forever.

Rosalie’s empathy is strongest when she’s able to project onto others, and she won’t be able to project onto the less fortunate at all.

Then there’s the fact that the Republican party is all about traditional family values, and pro-life.

Rosalie, a woman from the 1930′s who idolizes her human life and who‘d love nothing more than to get to live out this fantasy, is down for that. And as of Breaking Dawn she’s vocally pro-life, so there’s that.

This all being said I don’t think Rosalie cares to sit down and fully understand these politics she’s voting for, the possible impact they’ll have- that’s not important. What’s important is what voting does for her.

TL;DR: I bet anon regrets asking.

#long post #twilight #twilight vampires #twilight meta #twilight renaissance #politics #history #twilight history #carlisle cullen #alice cullen #bella swan #renesmée cullen #jasper hale #rosalie hale #emmett cullen

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superhero--imagines · 4 years ago

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Etsy Store Here l Ko-Fi l Commission Info

Part 1 Here! / Part 2 Here!/ Playlist Here!

* Alright so here are the facts as you know them

* Gojo’s a goddamn player and a homewrecker

* The boy probably has half of Tokyo after him

* Not that you can blame them, that pretty face had you fooled at first too

* The second fact, it that for whatever reason, Gojo Satoru has chosen to play house with a future hopeful sorcerer named Megumi Fushiguro

* Which, through forces outside your control, you have become involved with as well

* And the last fact, was that as soon as this no longer interested him or benefited him in any way, Gojo Satoru would abandon the situation entirely and act like it never happened

* So-

* “(Y/N/N), you look nice today, did you do something new with your hair?” Gojo sings

* - pray tell, why is the school prince is currently sitting on top of your desk, looking at you with those heart eyes

* “Oi what do you think you’re doing?” You ask, a vein threatening to pop on your forehead

* “I’m flirting with you~” he sings, only leaning closer with that all-too-pleased smile

* “I’m pretty sure this is bullying” you reply

* Ever since you’ve started pseudo-parenting Megumi and Tsumiki, Gojo’s been doing crap like this,

* Sometimes he tries to feed you at lunch,

* “Open wide (Y/N/N)~” He’ll sing as he holds out a piece of sushi towards you on some chopsticks

* Only for Megumi to eat it instead

* “Why do you look so sad papa, I thought you said I was your pride and joy”

* other times he’s holding doors open for you

* “Ah here let me-“

* You watch as he walks across from you and opens the door to a random void shrine

* You look at him before sighing and opening your own door to the library

* The other day you mentioned how you didn’t get to try the limited edition Sakura Pepsi and came back to your dorm with a bottle on your desk

* Which would be cute- if the bottle wasn’t half-empty with a note that he’d that said

* “Sorry, I got thirsty on the way back”

* Seriously he’s the worst- and yet,

* You turned away from Megumi and Gojo bickering, hoping he didn’t notice how flustered you were,

* you hid your laugh behind your hand as Gojo jogs to catch up with you, saying he was just trying to predict your needs-

* And you held the half-full bottle of Sakura Pepsi to your chest, keeping it on your window sill

* Because you love him-

* Even though you know he’s just doing all these things to entertain himself instead of out of genuine affection

* Even though these feeling will do nothing but hurt you

* You still love him

* He makes your life feel exciting and fun

* And more than that, underneath that moronic playboy exterior, is a gentle, lonely heart

* A heart that will run away as soon as it knows how you feel about it

* So you mask your budding feelings as best as you can

* Because the only thing you imagine is more painful than knowing your feelings won’t be returned-

* Is not having Gojo Satoru in your life at all

* So you do your best to pretend like nothing has changed

* You act just as indifferent as you always have-

* “Here-“ you push your dessert in Gojo’s direction. “You like sweets right?”

* His smile is so radiant you almost have to shield your eyes

* Well, mostly indifferent anyway

* Not that the self-absorbed moronic prince has seemed to notice anyway

* Too busy focusing on the scrumptious piece of cake in front of him

* Still Gojo isn’t one to be underestimated, he looks to you with a twinkle in his eyes

* “Let’s share it!”

* So far he’s tried twice to have an indirect kiss with you, and he’s missed twice

* He even threw away those chopsticks when Megumi ate that piece of sushi in frustration

* But you know what they say, third times the charm

* You look at Gojo with a raised eyebrow, gaze flicking between the cake and his face

* What, did he imbue some cursed energy so it would explode when you tried to take a bite

* “No thanks”

* Cue Gojo crying as he eats his cake

* He’s really been doing his best lately to earnestly pursue you

* But for some reason, you just don’t get it

* “I like you,” Gojo says as you’re walking side by side on your way back to the dorm after visiting Megumi

* You look back at him, and Gojo feels a blush start to fan across his face

* He finally did it! He finally confessed to you

* And his heart is drumming away in his chest

* You don’t seem to understand the monumental significance of what just occurred because what your mind heard was

* “I {really} like {teasing} you”

* You sigh, your heart skipped a beat, for a second you almost got your hopes up

* There’s no way lady killer Gojo Satoru would ever pick you to be one of his lovers, and if he did it would just be so you could be apart of his personal harem

* “Ok”

* And then you turn around and walk away

* Gojo can’t help but feel like this is retribution for all the times one of his romantic partners has said ‘I love you’

* And he responded with:

* “Why would you do that to yourself?”

* Or

* “Cool”

* At first he thinks it’s a straight-up rejection, but he figures out pretty fast that you just didn’t get it when you keep acting the same as you always have around him

* But don’t get it wrong babe, none of this deters Gojo in the slightest

* “Why are you looking at me like that?” You ask

* You’re both in the library, but only one of you is actually studying

* Gojo’s been staring at you with an oddly fixated gaze

* Honestly it’s got you feeling an uncomfortable heat spreading from your face to your neck

* “I’m not giving up you know”

* Giving up on what?!?

* What’s going on right now!!?

* But Gojo doesn’t offer any more insight choosing instead to finally bother reading the book in his hands

* What a weird guy

* You look down to your own book

* You feel the heat linger on your face and neck

* It’s because he’s always saying crap like that, that you’ve caught feelings for him

* Well whatever, everything fades right? Eventually, Gojo will probably lose interest in you-

* He’s part of a clan do you imagine they’ll find a nice girl from a respectable family for him to marry

* They’ll probably have a few kids who’ll be next in line to succeed him

* And by then he’ll be in such a prominent position that you’ll never see him again

* He’ll just be a memory

* Some boy you had a youthful unrequited love with

* The thought makes your heart clench but-

* “It��s for the best,” you tell yourself

* You’re going in completely opposite directions in life, you couldn’t possibly home for anything more than what you have

* After all your luck probably ran out the second you saw his face

* The most beautiful man you’ll ever see

* “I bet he would be one of those handsome grandpas when he gets older” you snort

* The kind that charms and flirts with young men and women just because he knows the effect he has on them.

* You still can’t believe you fell in love with someone like that

* “What a pain” you mumble to yourself, falling back on your bed

* You feel uncertain, afraid of the future even.

* Maybe a snack will help

* It’s the middle of the night, way past the time you were supposed to go to bed when you see him in the kitchen

* Great the last person you wanted to run into

* He’s just standing there in front of the fridge with the door open

* He hasn’t even turned around to say hi or anything

* “Oi Baka prince if you leave the door open like that every-“

* You stop mid-word, you only need one look at his face to know something is wrong

* It’s not all that uncommon for him to do something like this-

* See the thing is, Gojo knows he’s strong enough that he will get to choose when he dies- he’s not bound by the same pain the other sorcerers are, but-

* Well, he’s still going to die

* No matter how much he thinks he’s like god, no matter how powerful he is,

* He’s still going to die

* And growing up with the power he’s had and the mindset that he’s the strongest

* The realization can be pretty crippling

* He so afraid of the uncertainty that brings that most times he can’t move

* The worst part is it’s never when he’s actively thinking about death, or even when he’s on the job

* It’s always at times like this when he’s just woken up and is oddly hungry and he’ll remember

* “Oh, I’m going to die aren’t I?”

* And then it’s like he’s frozen solid

* What is it he usually tells the victims that enter his domain?

* “Funny how when you can do everything, you find you can’t do anything”

* Usually he manages to unfreeze after some unspecified amount of time, getting through it on his own

* But this time, when he finally escapes from the domain of his inner mind he’s covered in a layer of sweat just like always-

* But he’s not sure why he sprawled across the floor

* Not until his head shifts a little, only to see your face looming over him

* Omgomgomgomgomgomgomgomg

* He’s resting his head in your lap!!!

* Honestly this has been a fantasy of his for a while, to have his head in your lap while looking at the cherry blossoms, and you feed him chocolates and a gentle wind caresses your face

* BUT NOT LIKE THIS

* “Feeling better?” You ask

* Gojo thinks he might combust, he moves to sit up but winces

* He’s got the worst headache, these little episodes of his do typically end with a migraine

* Your hand feels nice and cold as it rests against his forehead

* “Rest a little longer, we’re not in any hurry”

* Aaaaand now he’s screaming on the inside again

* “Sorry about this” he mumbles, and you can’t help but smile

* It’s oddly endearing to see a shy Gojo Satoru

* “I bet your lovers would kill me if they saw knew you were showing me such a cute side” you’re half-joking when you say it, but you’re also half-serious

* It gives your Ego a little boost to know you’ve seen a side of him that most of his lovers probably haven’t

* You doubt the mighty Gojo Satoru ever allows himself to be this vulnerable, not even while he’s in the throes of passion

* So that same earnest look on his face startles you

* “I don’t have any other lovers”

* You snort

* “Sure, and I definitely didn’t steal Geto’s pudding that he was saving”

* “I’m being serious”

* Gojo sighs, here he is feeling awfully vulnerable and you still seem denser than a rock

* Do you think he would let anyone other than you see him like this

* “When are you going to realize that if it’s not you then it’s just no good?”

* Your heart is drumming in your ears, and you wonder if he can hear it

* Your mind is telling you to pull back, that this is way too good to be true, that this will only hurt you,

* You should get away while you still have a chance

* But instead something in you persists and you say:

* “Why do you think that is”

* Gojo’s hand reaches up, twirling a strand of your hair around his finger, those clear blue eyes looking straight into yours

* Your breath stutters in your chest

* You always have been weak for those eyes

* His pink lips curl up into a smile

* “Because I love you”

* And before you know what you’re doing your bending down, pressing your lips against his

* “I love you too”

Bonus:

* “You can see through it right?” You ask

* Gojo fidgets with the blindfold, honestly he was hoping for a much kinkier reason than replacing his scuffed sunglasses when you gave him the blindfold

* “It’s a little darker, but that’s not a bad thing.”

* His hair is out of his face too which is nice

* But-

* “What’s with the sudden gift?”

* It’s not exactly out of character for you to get the people you care about something, but this seems a little outside of your usual MO

* “I just felt like it” You mumble

* Now that his eyes are covered up you think he might attract a little less attention, and all his former flings probably won’t be able to recognize him

* Your eyes drift to his uniform, even in the gross pantsuit you can still tell he’s got a pretty nice body,

* But you’ll have to adjust

* Gojo sees right through your nonchalant answer, smiling that wolfish grin

* “Aw was my sweetie scared I was going to leave them?” He coos, moving ever so close

* You only turn away your face

* Gojo only grins wider

* “Honey~ you should know by now if it’s not you then I’m not interested” he sings in your ear

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen gojo #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru headcanon #gojo satoru reader insert #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru imagine #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jujutsu kaisen headcanon #jujutsu kaisen x reader #superhero--imagines

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1kook · 4 years ago

Text

imax & climax

summary; The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Jungkook gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack. warnings; fingering, blowjobs, tit play, praise kink, standing sex, unprotected sex, reverse cowgirl kinda idk lol, daddy kink that morphs into i love u kink tags; jk is an avid history channel viewer, jk hates Barbie movies ik we took an L today girls 😔, jk goes thru like 4 personality changes (commanding > soft > mean > in love), honestly idk what to tag it’s a mess, he’s still cheesy and romantic but also 👀 just read word count; 9.8k

notes; there is no rest for the wicked, aka miss 1kook writes another part for this fic i swore wasn't gonna be a series except this time we ditch the gentlemen persona and go into maximum overdrive. its not proofread bc i wrote this entire thing at 4 am last night after inhaled a whole bucket of spicy popcorn

[ part 1 ; netflix & chill ] [ part 2 ; hulu & wohoo ]

Jungkook sees it on display during your weekly Target trip. You know he won’t say anything because despite how long you’ve dated he still likes to pretend he’s the epitome of adult maturity. Yet the way his eyes linger over the electronics section, cart rolling to a stop in front of the massive screen, tells you all you need to know.

“Baby, the toilet paper is this way,” you sing, giving the front of the cart a gentle tug that pulls it and his thoughts away from the television that seems to hold reign over his interest.

“Ah,” he mumbles as he shakes himself out of whatever trance he was in. “Right.”

The Target trip ends rather uneventfully; you grab all the items you came for and make the executive decision of swapping Jungkook’s tangerine bathroom soap with strawberry instead. Normally he’d put up a good fight, argue about the comfort that came with consistency, but today he says nothing. You chalk it up to that flatscreen that hypnotized him earlier.

“You wanted it,” you announce rather pointedly in the car. He’s backing out of the parking space now, one hand on the wheel the other pressed to the side of your seat. His jaw twitches as he tries to maneuver around a stray shopping cart someone didn’t return to the retrieval area. He’s wearing that dark jumper you like, with the high collar that covers all of last night’s bruises up wonderfully.

Jungkook scoffs as he finally gets the two of you back onto the main road, Target and the flat screen left behind. “I didn’t,” he defends. “Just thought it was neat.”

You snort. “Neat. Okay, grandpa, did it tickle your pickle?” you tease, obnoxiously leaning over the center console to get all in his face. Jungkook greets your proximity with a palm against your forehead.

“Please don’t ever say that again,” he laughs, pulling to a stop at the next red light. He turns to level you with an easygoing grin, sparkly anime girl eyes extra shiny under the red glow. “Only want you to tickle my pickle.”

You gag. “That’s actually disgusting.”

——

You graduate on a Saturday and your dorm stay expires on the Tuesday that follows. You spend the entire day shoving all your belongings into a variety of trash bags, from your weighted blanket to the collection candles you and Doyeon swore to light every night and never did. Speaking of Doyeon, she cries through the entire process. From the moment you take down the first wall decoration she’s in tears, and not even her mom, who’s come to help out, can quell her emotions. The girl cries and cries. She cries throughout the clean up, like she hadn’t spent the week before cursing the funky aircon system to hell and back. It’s probably the nostalgia that comes with leaving college, you assume. When Jungkook picks you up around noon, even your eyes are glassy.

Jungkook’s mom, who you only just met a few months ago, is over at his place when you arrive. You get along fairly well, in fact, you would even go as far as to claim you got along really well. You had first met her over this past spring break when Jungkook invited you along to his family trip to some tropical island. The Jeons were lovely people. In fact, had Jungkook not explicitly introduced them as his parents, you would’ve thought they were some sitcom actors carrying out the role of most in love, sophisticated lovers to ever exist. Yeah, they were super into each other, and you suppose it’s why Jungkook is the way he is, loves as hard as he does. The only thing that broke their attention away from each other was the sight of their precious Jungkookie bringing you to a family event.

It was hard to keep them entertained. Every second was spent worrying about your appearance, your demeanor, whether or not you looked like a devil beside their (your) angelic boy. It certainly didn’t help that Jungkook was wearing that obnoxiously floral shirt at the restaurant you went to, the first three buttons undone almost lazily. It was a look your boyfriend rarely showed, always so meticulously dressed. Of course, he had that cute boyish style of his that consisted almost exclusively of baggy pants and designer tee’s a little too plain to cost as much as they did. But even those outfits had a specific Jungkook rhythm to them— the darker tones always went with the pants that had twelve buckles on them; the long sleeves always went with the jeans. He was awfully particular about those kinds of self-set rules, and this jarring floral print did not fit any of them. It was too provocative, the black skinny jeans he’d paired with it too devious.

Maybe he knew what he was doing to you dressed so hot like this, but knowing Jungkook, you doubt he did. His parents hadn’t batted a single lash his way, eyes laser focused on your every word as you stumbled through three plates and dessert. It was a battle you fought alone, and one you barely survived.

So despite you impressing his parents, she still gives you an odd look when you enter Jungkook’s swanky townhouse with all your garbage bags of items. You promise her it’s just for the weekend, until your parents clean out your old room that they’ve filled to the brim with holiday decorations and miscellaneous objects. You’re not trying to take her baby chick out of the nest. (Yet.)

You watch TV for a couple hours, mostly her favorite soap operas on his 67 in. screen. It takes up a huge spot on the wall where it’s mounted, glossy black screen glaring back at you. Even his mom scolds him for such a huge screen, and you wonder how she’d feel about the absolute giant he ogled at the Target last week. Super angry, you think, and the image of her raging in flames while Jungkook apologizes like the momma’s boy he is makes you giggle.

She leaves a little after sunset, kissing and hugging the both of you on the doorstep like she’s going off to war and will never return. She’ll be back by the weekend, desperate to check on her baby boy, but you let her have her moment. It’s weird seeing how dramatic the Jeons are compared to how reserved Jungkook is.

You pounce on him the second she’s gone. He goes down with a muffled yelp against the sofa, hands grasping at your waist until you straddle him and begin going to town. Your fun lasts all of two minutes before the old lady novella Jungkook’s mom had been watching cuts to commercials and a loud advertisement for irritable bowel syndrome medication begins playing.

“Oh, that is so not sexy,” you whine childishly, trying to roll your hips over him again. Jungkook laughs, all low and sweet as he sits back up again.

“Give it a rest,” he says, shifting you until he’s got you hugged between those stupidly strong arms of his. His pecs feel strong and comforting beneath your cheek, and the feeling makes your tiny pouting session end earlier than usual. “Come on,” he mumbles as he manhandles you around, until your back is pressed against his chest and you’re sitting between his legs. “Let’s watch this film on Mesopotamian folklore and its overall significance to the nations it birthed after its downfall.”

——

You rarely use the key Jungkook gifted you a few months back. The majority of your visits to Jungkook’s house were either the result of Jungkook picking you up from somewhere and bringing you back, or Jungkook inviting you over after dinner. In short, he was always with you when you arrived at his stoop.

Today you’re alone, juggling two boxes of takeout and some cheap wine in one hand as you fight to unlock his door. He hadn’t answered his phone, which leads you to believe he’s holed himself up again in that damn study. He likes to do that sometimes, lock himself away like some modern day Rapunzel until he finishes whatever project he has this time around. When he gets like this, it’s like all other body functions are forgotten, his brain zeroed in on the lines of code you barely understand.

Just as you suspect, the house is too dark when you finally break in. The hall light is off, which isn’t out of the norm, but so are the kitchen and living room lights. You pad down the hall, flicking on the light to the living room to set down your offerings onto the edge of the coffee table. There’s a scrambled pile of notes on top that seem too disorderly to disregard. You whirl around, making to head back out into the hall and down to the study, when you see it.

A good 90 inches mounted on his wall. It’s a monstrosity of a screen, devouring nearly the entire surface of the wall, from stainless end to stainless end. It’s ridiculously thin in the way all modern TVs are, but this one is even more so given the fact you hadn’t registered it in your peripheral when you walked in. It’s just barely short of a Jumbotron, the kind they have at baseball games to make sure you can see every nose hair on the pitcher.

His mom was going to kill him.

“Jungkook?” you call out slowly, inching back out into the hall with your gaze glued to the screen. Like maybe you’ve imagined this all and that isn’t the stupidly gigantic television screen Jungkook had gawked at just a few weeks ago.

There’s a soft hum down the hall, the sound slipping beneath the bottom gap in the door frame. You make a beeline for the room, oddly unsettled with the huge screen. The door gives way, exposing your boyfriend’s hunched back and the blue light from his monitors that highlights his frame. “Hi, sweetie,” you begin, inching over to him.

“Hi,” he sighs, leaning back into your touch when you step behind him. His dark eyes are weary from staring at his tablet for too long, his usual tender expression melted into one of mild irritation. “Can’t figure this out,” he says, tapping his stylus against one line of absolute nerd gibberish you don’t bother trying to decipher. Maybe another day you would have entertained him, but today you cherish this moment with him knowing it might be his last before his mom comes over and kills him.

“Sounds like break time to me!” Your proclamation makes him frown, a frustrated groan pulling itself from his lips. His head droops forward again, chin touching his chest. But there’s a hint of relief in his groan that tells you all you need to know. “Baby needs a break,” you smile, pressing a peck against the back of his head.

“You’re baby,” he tries to fight, but his limbs are so pliant under your touch that it practically means nothing. “I’m the head honcho around here.”

“Uh huh,” you appease him, finally managing to tug all that muscled body out of his seat. “And apparently that means making dumb purchases.”

“What dumb purchases? Are you talking about the cactus again?” he asks, letting you guide him back down the hall.

“Yes, Kook, the cactus you haven’t watered in three months,” you drawl sarcastically, the sad plant sitting in the kitchen a reminder of both your incompetence. “Namjoon would hate you for that.”

Not amused by the insinuation of his favorite senpai being disappointed in him, Jungkook goes to fight you on that. By then you’ve stopped at the entrance of the living room, glaring at the straight up theater screen that sits on the wall. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” you mimic, flopping down on the ground beside the coffee table. Jungkook doesn’t follow, choosing to sprawl himself over the couch instead. “What’s with the Jumbotron?”

He stretches his arms out, moaning something sinful at the way his bones pop. “It adds to the experience,” he says. “Movies are more enjoyable when the pictures are bigger; a tall aspect ratio and stadium seating really add to the experience.” He was such a nerd.

You snort. “The experience— Oh, I’m sorry. Didn’t know I was speaking to Mr. IMAX here.”

His cheeks flush a soft pink at your jab. “Don’t be mean,” he mumbles, tugging on your arm as he sits back up. You find your way onto his lap, neatly seated over one thigh like he’s the Santa Claus at the mall; not a single gray hair in sight but you’d still let him call you his hoe, hoe, hoe. Realizing there’s more important matters to attend to than Jungkook’s Christmas ham, you shake those images away.

“Good thing I brought a movie,” you beam, gesturing to the pretty pink case resting over top the takeout bag.

Jungkook doesn’t even spare it a single glance as he burrows into your neck. “What? No, we’re finishing the docuseries on—“

You groan loudly to muffle the rest of his sentence. “Kook, I don’t wanna watch another episode on Stonehenge being done by aliens,” you whine, picking up the movie case to brandish in his face.

It’s admittedly the wrong move when Jungkook’s eyes roll themselves into another dimension. “Absolutely not,” he says. The case is quickly discarded off to the side as he attempts to distract you with a kiss against your cheek.

Too bad you’re evil and determined. “No! We are watching the Princess and the Pauper and that’s final,” you exclaim, scrambling for the movie before he can hurl it out the window. He catches you by the waist, your fingers just an inch away from the pink case. “Babe!” you cry, but his fingerprints are bruising their way into your skin.

“No more Barbie movies,” he begs, yanking you back onto his lap. He does so with so much force that it makes the two of you tumble to the side, your head bouncing on the cushions as he catches himself over you. “Please.”

“I hate you,” you fuss, pointedly ignoring the tiny mole beneath his lip that drove you crazy. “We’ve seen every single thing on the History Channel this week, but we can’t watch one Barbie movie?”

Jungkook sighs, dropping his head down against your shoulder. He smells good and feels even better over you, but you’re not going to stop until the Princess and the Pauper is breaking in the new Jumbotron. “It’s weird,” he huffs, voice muffled against the fabric of your shirt. “Especially when we start getting… experimental, and I have to listen to Barbie sing in the background.”

“First of all, her name is Annaleise in this movie,” you correct, squirming beneath him to no avail. “Secondly, how do you think I feel when you’re eating me out while some old British dude narrates the creation of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon?”

Jungkook scoffs, finally letting himself snuggle completely into you. “You don’t even realize it because you’re screaming the whole way through.” That earns him a sharp tug at his ear that has him sputtering apology after apology.

“It’s boring!” you feel the need to emphasize.

Jungkook sits up with an uppity look on his face. “It’s not my fault you don’t appreciate the cinematography that comes from educational pieces,” he points out, rather presumptuously.

You shove him off of you. “I don’t care about cinnamon topography, just play the damn Barbie movie,” you hiss, swiping the movie case from the other end of the couch and pressing it to his chest. If words could hurt, yours definitely do. Jungkook crumbles against the couch, childishly stomping one sock-clad foot against the ground as you gesture toward the movie player.

He doesn’t move, and you’re about to begin another tirade against his snobby movie critiquing habits when he procures a sleek, tiny remote that you would honestly mistake for an iPhone from a distance. It has, no joke, about seven buttons max, four of which are just the up and down, left and right arrows. You let out a low whistle at that. Wow. Technology sure was advancing.

The TV turns on to some minimalistic home page, tiny widgets showing every app it has; the bottom row is dedicated almost entirely to Jungkook’s massive streaming service provider collection. After a moment of brewing in his feels, Jungkook quietly announces, “it’s on Amazon Prime.” This is news to you, being able to watch a Barbie film on a streaming service and not the old disk you scratched when you were ten. Something distinctly carnal flashes in your chest when Jungkook clicks through all the payment options without a care in the world. Oh, that was definitely going into your horny 3 am dreams.

Despite his earlier protests, you know Jungkook will soon fall into his usual movie watching habits. He settles into the couch beside you. You cuddle up next to him, enveloping him with the grip of a killer octopus choking out its prey, except Jungkook is usually the one doing the choking in this relationship. Still, it’s not close enough, and you throw your legs over his thigh. You’re practically sitting on him at this point.

You have no doubt the speakers on this thing are average; it was too thin to really pack any punch. However, that was the TV sans the Bluetooth speakers Jungkook has installed all around his house.

(You swear when the android uprising finally begins, your boyfriend will be the first one out.)

The speakers really amplify the sound. The opening sequence has your bones rattling inside your body, the loud music of the selection screen reverberating through the entire living room. It reminds you of that pounding COMING SOON clip that used to play at the beginning of DVD’s back in the day. Jungkook scrambles to lower the volume. “Sweetheart, you’re cutting off my circulation,” he wheezes afterwards.

“What? This is how we always watch movies,” you say with a frown.

“Yes, and I always end up with less oxygen than before.”

He doesn’t let you argue, which is good, because you could make a thirty five slide PowerPoint presentation on the advantages of watching movies like this. One, your boyfriend was warm. Two, your boyfriend smelt good. Three, your boyfriend’s ripped body awoke some ancient being inside of you that would not rest until his cock was halfway down your thro—

He hauls you into his lap. The angle forces you to let him go, instead met with the jarring nothingness of having his hot body ripped away. Meanwhile he gets to wrap you up in his arms, hold you like a teddy bear to his chest. “I hate this,” you huff, but the movie is already starting, the beautiful blonde Anneliese appearing on screen. You lean back against his chest, pout still evident. “This is ridiculous,” you snort, her face blown up on this jumbo screen.

“Shut up,” he says, settling in behind you. “Movie’s starting.”

Most Barbie movies you watch end up in one of two ways: either Jungkook falls asleep twenty minutes in or he stays up until the end to critique every aspect of it. With the way he’d gone soft from your early battle, you’re guessing he was going to knock out before the Princess can even meet the Pauper.

As much as you hate to admit it, the huge screen does incite quite a thrill in you. There’s something so nostalgic about watching one of your favorite childhood movies on a screen this huge. The size showcases the sheer perfection that is every single Barbie movie. You lose yourself in the movie, singing along to the opening song and growing agitated when the antagonist appears.

Jungkook says nothing, and you’re half convinced he’s taken his first preferred route and snoozed off, when his fingers twitch around your waist.

There it was.

The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Jungkook gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack.

“Absolutely not,” you say, slapping a hand down over his before he can slip beneath the fabric of your shorts.

He lets out an indignant noise, a puff of air running along the side of your face. You ease his hands back over your stomach, taking extra care to knot your fingers with his. “We’re supposed to be breaking in your new screen,” you remind him, glancing up to catch his unimpressed expression.

He complains quietly, but he settles.

For all of twenty seconds.

“Oh my god,” you sigh, trying to act like the subtle rutting of his cock on your behind was a nuisance and not the luxury it is. “Babe, the jumbo screen… look at it.”

“Not even jumbo,” he murmurs against your ear, hot breath sending a shiver down your spine that has your toes curling. You fight to keep his hands still, but the muscles in his forearm tense, inked skin contracting as he slips them between your thighs. You suck in a sharp inhale, trying to maintain your immovable front. Jungkook sees the fortress you’ve built around yourself in the name of watching The Princess and the Pauper, and spares you no mercy with his attack. His hands massage the skin of your thighs, tiny shorts doing absolutely nothing to save you from him. “Jumbo didn’t fit.”

The back of your mind registers the fact he was apparently trying to get a TV even bigger than this. You tuck it away for later to snitch to his mom. For now, you’d very much appreciate it if he could make you cum before the two girls perform the iconic “I Am a Girl Like You” song.

His hands are so smooth, soft skin tracing over your body like you were nothing but a slab of clay ready to be molded under his touch. He abandons your thighs to creep them under your shirt, where he wastes no time tugging the cups of your bra down to fondle your breasts.

Belatedly, your stupid tongue remembers to move. “I know something jumbo that fits,” you babble, rolling your head back against his shoulder. Jungkook laughs at the utter stupidity of your sentence, and the aforementioned jumbo thing fattens against your ass, before brushing his lips against yours. The airy laughter, one of your favorite sounds in the world, is swallowed up by your greedy mouth. “Can fit in two places, actually,” you murmur when he pulls away. His fingers massage the doughy skin of your boobs causing your back to arch slightly. “Wherever he wants it to.”

“Really,” Jungkook teases, obviously entertained by your silly dirty talk. He’s grown used to your outlandish remarks in the past few months of your relationship.

You like to believe Jungkook has fully accepted your occasional bouts of weirdness. He’s had the last few months to grow familiar with the inner workings of your mind, and even absorbed some of it into his own personality. Which is why he doesn’t seem the least bit bothered by you referring to his cock as jumbo, when there were admittedly more fitting words to describe it as.

(Thick, juicy, angry, demon cock, if he really wanted to know.)

“Where do you think it should go?” he asks, the low hum of his voice snapping you out or your thoughts. There was no need to daydream about a cock that was right in front of you. His hands slow their gentle caress over you, fingers closing in on your nipples.

A sharp hiss pulls itself from your throat, chest arching as he tugs and toys with your hardened nipples. “Wh-Wherever,” you pant, reaching your own hands down back between your thighs. The phantom of his palms linger, making your hands feel sorely inadequate. “Wherever Daddy wants,” you purr, swallowing harshly when he twists a nipple.

Jungkook groans, resting his forehead against your shoulder. “Don’t,” he sighs, hands faltering over your breasts. Eventually they drift away, settling around your waist as you slip your fingers under the front of your bottoms.

“Why?” you laugh, pointer finger brushing along your clit. “Don’t like it when I call you that, Daddy?”

He lifts his head to watch you play with yourself. His hands grow tight around your waist, labored breath filling the air to harmonize with your breathy moans. You’re absolutely soaking your panties, sticky arousal making the fabric stick to your folds. “You know I do,” he murmurs, watching the outline of your knuckles through the fabric of your shorts. “Thought you wanted to play nice today.” He takes in a sharp inhale when you ease your finger into yourself, a breathy moan escaping from your lips.

You were already so wet, and you’re really not surprised this is how the two of you would break in his new IMAX, high definition flatscreen. Your pussy tightens around your finger, thigh muscles jumping at the intrusion. Fuck, you needed him so bad.

You smirk, drawing your hands out from their hiding spot. The television is the only thing lighting the room, the two of you shrouded in relative darkness. At first, your hand is shadowed by the glow of the screen, nothing more than an outline. But when you turn it just right, the light catches, highlighting the glistening skin of your fingers. It makes Jungkook shudder.

Ever so slowly, you bring your fingers up to his face. The tip of your middle finger runs teasingly against his plump lower lip, his shaky exhales sending a cool breath over your knuckles. “Open, Daddy,” you encourage, watching with rapt attention as he envelopes your fingers between his lips. He sucks, tongue dancing between each digit to slurp off your juices. “Do I taste good? Do you like it?”

You know he loves it, but it never hurts to ask.

Between the two of you, you each had your own share of distinctive interests when it came to sex. Kinks, if you will. You adored the softer, vanilla aspects of sex— the languid makeouts, the slow rutting against his thigh, the whispered praise, the cute pet names. Meanwhile, despite his initially reserved exterior, Jungkook preferred the other end of the spectrum. (You should’ve known from the get go!) He loved it fast and hard, so hard it would make you cry. He liked watching you squirm and beg for his cock while he pushed you to new heights. He liked the sticky, sweaty sex that left you feeling like a used rag beneath him, something you would have never expected given his neat and kind nature.

However, as with all things Jungkook, you always came first. Jungkook’s dream sex style was often pushed to the side in favor of pleasuring you. So quick and rough sex was more of a rare, once in a blue moon, type of luxury. Up until recently, sex had been mostly what you wanted. Either way you did things, Jungkook was fine as long as he got to hold you close.

It was only a few weeks ago that you discovered your shared daddy kink, him obsessed with the idea of shoving you around, something he would otherwise never do. You, on the other hand, found a pleasant satisfaction from being good for him, a stark contrast from your usual sharp tongue and nonexistent filter.

You pull your fingers from his mouth, the sleek drip of your arousal replaced with his saliva. Jungkook grunts as he hauls you further onto his lap, swollen cock nudging itself between your cheeks. “You know I love it, baby,” he growls against your ear. His hot breath fans over your skin, sending shivers down your spine. “Have you had your fun now?” he asks, tracing the pads of his fingers around your nipple teasingly.

“Mhm,” you moan. Jungkook’s hands decide they’re done toying with your tits, drifting back down to their original target between your shorts. “Want Daddy to fuck me now.”

He places a kiss against the side of your neck, right over the vein that runs beneath the skin. Jungkook kisses and nips down your skin, until his hair is tickling your collarbones as he sucks a hickey against the juncture between your neck and shoulder. “Is that the right way to ask for something?” he purrs, rubbing your cunt over your shorts.

It’s nowhere near as fulfilling as it would be without the garments. Nonetheless, it makes you ache for him, thighs quivering at the simple touch like you’re a bumbling virgin being touched for the first time. You’re nowhere near that, but every time with Jungkook was exhilarating enough to the point it felt like it was.

“Pretty please,” you pant, covering his hand with yours.

Jungkook rewards you with a fluttery kiss against your shoulder. “Good girl,” he hums. He finally gives you what you want, bypassing the fabric of your shorts and panties to dip his fingers between your folds. You gasp, hips jumping at the sudden brush of his hands along your quivering folds.

“Inside please,” you whimper, knees moving back and forth, only stopping when he helps you out of your bottoms. He places his free hand on one of them, stilling your writhing to fully focus on pleasing the burning fire inside of you. “Jungkook—“

A slap against your cunt that makes you squeal. “Ah ah,” he warns, voice a low tenor against your skin. If you focus hard enough, you can feel the faint brush of a smirk against your neck. “We’re playing a different game right now, pretty girl.”

On screen, your favorite childhood movie is bearing witness to the sinful acts at your boyfriend’s hands. It shouldn’t be surprising how easily you fall into his arms, onto his lap, especially with your history of movie watching with Jungkook.

From your very first date you were enamored with him; the dip of his Cupid’s bow, so innocent and cute, embodied every single aspect of his personality. He was the sweetest, softest boy, one your brain could never conjure in a thousand years. Jungkook’s level of care was hard to come by nowadays; he was a gentleman through and through.

These days he was growing out of that mature persona, and you like to think it’s thanks to you. Your wildness rubbed off on him, made him confident enough to geek out in public, or be adventurous in private. It helped nourish his impulsivity, which led to things like the Super Bowl Jumbotron watching you fuck now.

Despite knowing all this, knowing the way he is, the slow grind against your ass sends a thrill of arousal up your limbs, sensations converging just beneath your mound. “Yes, Daddy,” you mewl accordingly.

Pleased with your obedience, he rewards you by circling your throbbing clit with his thumb. It’s a terribly slow motion, pad of his finger easing over your engorged bud every other second. You wanted more, needed more. You squirm beneath him, attempting to push your clit against his palm. Your efforts are in vain when he clamps a hand down on your waist. “Sit still,” he growls.

You whimper. “Need more,” you rasp out. Your whole body is acting out now, shifting and turning as you try to wiggle closer. Your mouth brushes against his jawline. The sharp angle is the first thing your muddled thoughts focus on, lips hungrily latching onto his porcelain skin to suck a purple blossom onto it.

Any other day Jungkook would bask in the attention, let you bruise his skin up until he was violet from love.

Today... well.

You were playing a different game.

The hand that had been exploring your nether regions suddenly snaps up, catching your chin between his fingers. The wetness that has coated his digits smears messily across your skin, and you whimper when he squishes your cheeks beneath his fingers.

“No ‘please’?” he huffs, turning your head to meet his eyes.

Dark chocolate eyes you’ve come to associate with love and adoration stare back at you unimpressed. His pronounced brow bone twitches, like he’s holding the true intensity of his glare back for your own sake. He slots his mouth against yours with no warning, tongue pushing its way past your lips. It’s messy, his tongue licking into your mouth like you’re nothing but a lollipop for him to suck on. It pulls a surprised moan from your lips that he swallows quickly enough, biting down on your lower lip harshly. When he pulls away, he’s got that same bored look on his face. You feel small under such a cold look, shoulders scrunching up damn near your ears in a subtle attempt to hide from him.

The action makes Jungkook scoff as he leans away from you. He leaves you on his lap alone, like a tiny island desperate to join the main land. You shuffle around in a hurry, looping your arms around his neck in a last ditch effort to calm him down. It does nothing for Jungkook, who only prods his tongue along his cheek as he regards you with a calculating gaze.

After a moment, he finally says, “on your knees.”

Your heart falls out of your chest. “Huh?” you whisper hoarsely, wide eyes taking in his unimpressed expression. “Knees? But Daddy,” you whine, lower lip quivering as you glance down at the hardwood floor.

Anywhere else you wouldn’t have minded. In fact, anywhere else you would’ve been on the floor before the sentence even left his mouth. You loved sucking his dick almost as much as he loved eating you out. However your knees were embarrassingly frail against hard flooring, which is why most blowjobs had been administered in the comfort of his bed or the couch. Sometimes on carpeted surfaces, but Jungkook never pushed when he knew you would be aching the whole time.

Which is why his current demand has you standing stiff. “O-On the floor?” you murmur.

The stark truth was that Jungkook had you terribly spoiled. His constant pampering had convinced you you were invincible. His love was practically handed to you on a silver plate, cloth napkin folded like a crane beside it. He had never made you do something you didn’t like, and he had never put you in an uncomfortable position, mentally or physically.

Until now.

Jungkook gestures for the ground with a curt nod. “Is there a problem?” he inquires.

You look back again, eye the dark wood planks beneath you, glossed over enough to make them shine even in this weak light. “No,” you belatedly respond, slowly pushing yourself off his lap and onto your feet. Your big shirt falls back down, covers the tops of your thighs as you stand nude from the waist down. You’re tempted to just yank it down even more, hide beneath the cloth so he doesn’t have to see you whine and bitch about your knees aching.

Jungkook was so cool. He was so suave and composed. He was the opposite of you, which is why the two of you meshed so well together. You’ve thought about it about ten times tonight, but it was true. Despite all that, there were times his mature exterior made you feel small— small and silly. Like now, with him sitting against the sofa, dark eyes tracing up your legs in amusement.

You sink to the ground, very pointedly avoiding his gaze. The wooden slats are cold and hard beneath your knees, your kneecap immediately screaming in discomfort. Jungkook leans forward with his elbows on his knees, messy curls covering half of his face. “You know,” he hums, reaching out to trail his knuckles across your cheekbone. “I kinda like having you like this,” he admits, “below me like the good little girl you are.”

Your breath stutters as it leaves your lungs, fidgeting hands tugging at the front hem of your shirt in a feeble attempt to cover yourself up. Jungkook smirks at the movement, eventually retracting his hand to give you one, condescending pat on the head.

A hearty sigh escapes his lips as he settles back onto the couch cushions. “Keep me entertained, will you?” You gawk, but you know it’s not a question. He reaches over for the remote to turn the volume up on the Barbie movie.

Your favorite song on the entire soundtrack is playing, almost mocking you as you shuffle closer to him. Two hands tentatively placed on his thighs as the two animated maidens flounce around the screen. He doesn’t bat a single lash your way, eyes focused on the huge screen behind you instead.

His sweatpants give away easily, elastic band snapping away from hips. You have to fight that and his boxers down, Jungkook sitting like an immovable boulder in front of you. You barely manage to free his cock— the same jumbo cock you had referred to earlier —and it almost slaps you across the face from the force of its recoil. Your breath catches in your throat, a short-lived squeal as you flinch at the movement.

The sound causes him to look your way, over the bridge of his nose. “Do you mind?” he says scornfully. “I’m trying to watch a movie.”

“S-Sorry,” you stammer, quickly grasping his cock between your fist.

But apparently you’re doing everything wrong tonight. Jungkook hisses. “Shit— would it kill you to lick it first? Like you’re trying to start a damn fire on my cock,” he mumbles, head lolling back to watch the screen again.

You move in slower this time, careful to lick your palm before trying to grab him. When you do, it’s even more delayed, fingers hesitantly tightening around his swollen member. You’re trying to gauge his reaction, worried eyes flickering up to him every few seconds. Jungkook doesn’t object, craning his neck to the side to crack a joint there. With his clearance you carry on.

The strokes are slow at first, hand barely reaching over his tip like he likes. You’re weirdly anxious you’ll mess up for him, make him look at you with contempt. You suppose it’s because of the game you’re playing that you’re on edge. Usually, Jungkook adheres to your rules, soft as they may be, and he never pushes where you don’t want. Tonight, it’s like you’re a show dog desperate to impress her owner. In short, you were his bitch.

You loved it.

As much as you wanted to be good for him, the mere thought of your normally sweet-hearted boyfriend glaring down at you does something to you, makes your pussy clench.

It’ll haunt you for weeks. The image of such unimpressed eyes leveled your way because you couldn’t handle his dick will stain the insides of your eyelids. Even though he’ll brush it off, kiss you and tell you it’s fine, the inner conceited hoe in you will never let it go, will recall the memory every time your hand is under your panties.

Still, you’re terribly desperate to impress him. He was your other half, your lover, your sweetheart, your goddamn king; he deserved only the best— not some half-assed, scaredy-cat blowjob that would leave him reeling back afterwards.

With that belief and a sticky blob of spit later, you’re pushing him into your throat. It’s the first reaction you get since he’d started feeling you up, a deep, raspy groan straight from the pits of hell, that has you working even harder to swallow his cock down. “That’s it,” he pants, carding his fingers through your hair. “Good girl.”

You positively mewl under the praise, tongue growing heavy in your mouth as you swallow more and more of him down. The hard tip of his cock pulses inside, rubbing against your palate and then your throat. A gag catches in your throat, one you quickly subdue by shifting your hips.

Fuck, he was so big. Just the feeling of his cock brashly rubbing against the corners of your lips has you fantasizing about how he’ll undoubtedly stretch your pussy apart later. You moan, letting your eyes flutter shut as you try to wave those images away.

When his cock hits the back of your throat, you’re ten chapters deep into an erotic novel all about sucking Jungkook‘s dick. If your eyes weren’t already shut you’re certain they’d be at the back of your head anyway. It twitches against your tongue, one thick bead of precum sliding down your throat.

It seems to be the final straw for Jungkook, who clamps a hand down on the back of your head, forcefully pulling you away only to shove you down again. With his grip in your hair, he really goes to town. You whimper at his brutal movements, his cock nudging the back of your throat with every harsh tug of your hair. The slippery, wet glide of his cock against your mouth fills the room with a lewd squelching that drowns out the movie.

Your pussy quivers with each new intrusion, thighs pressing together as if that will quell the searing ache between them. It doesn’t, and when Jungkook finally bursts in your mouth, creamy cum splattering against your tongue and lips, it only grows.

“Fuck,” he growls, pushing you away as he sinks back into the cushions. His chest heaves beneath the material of his t-shirt, sweat dripping down from his hairline. Normally, you’d take this opportunity to crawl back onto his lap, lick and kiss away at his body while he recovered. But truthfully, you were both still new to this whole experience so there were still the occasional lulls between actions.

Sensing your uncertainty, Jungkook tugs you onto his lap. He presses one soft kiss against your cheek, eyes momentarily losing their hard edge to assure you everything is fine. You give him a tiny nod, as if assuring him you’re okay. He presses his mouth to yours, plush lips soothing over your raw lips. It’s brief, the kiss; he guides you through it but switches back quickly. He pulls away and bites down harshly on the side of your neck. “So perfect for me, pretty girl,” he murmurs, soothing his bite over with a swipe of his tongue.

You dissolve into a mushy puddle on his lap, muscles growing weak from his touch. Jungkook kisses down your neck, over your t-shirt clad chest, before he’s nudging you back down onto the cushions. With him looming over you, your body instinctively has you spreading your legs apart. His t-shirt comes up with one yank over his shoulders, sinewy muscles coming into view.

“Yum,” you whisper, hands reaching up to trail over his v-line. They’re quickly slapped away, a startled gasp pulled from your lips as Jungkook takes your wrists in his hands.

One shapely brow is raised in your direction. “Did I say you could touch?” he murmurs, pinning your hands above your head. A gasp catches in your throat from his close proximity. You subconsciously tilt your head up, try to brush your mouth against his, only to be denied with a subtle turn of his face. “How do you want it, pretty?” he asks, releasing the tight grip around your wrists.

Immediately, you latch around his broad shoulders, fingers tracing over the muscles of his arms until they meet at the base of his neck. “However you want,” you purr, pulling him closer until your bodies are aligned, the warm heat of his frame over yours. You kiss the spot beneath his ear once before he trails his lips down.

Jungkook mouths against your shoulder, lips tracing over the juncture where it meets your neck. “Hm,” he hums, taking a tiny sliver of skin between his teeth. “And if I said I wanted it hard?”

His proposal is followed by a slow roll of his hips against your throbbing core, the same dick you had just choked on gliding along your folds. You whimper, toes curling as the pleasure washes over you. Every ridge, ever vein of his hardened cock runs along your sensitive folds, reminding you of the aching flame inside of you. “Th-That’s fine,” you pant, leg lazily thrown over his hip. His hands trail over your waist, collecting your t-shirt as they move up your body until it’s pushed over the swell of your breasts.

When the material is finally discarded off to the side, leaving you in that flimsy bra Jungkook that snaps off, he strikes again. His tongue laps over your collarbone first, pouty lips ghosting over the skin as he makes his way to your breast. He takes one hardened peak into his mouth, drawing a shaky inhale from you. He rolls it between his teeth, tongue flicking the sensitive nub as you squirm beneath him.

Eventually he pulls away with a wet pop. Jungkook smirks, a soft puff of air fanning over your newly bruised skin. “Aren’t you the prettiest little thing.” He pushes away from you with one strong arm, looking down at you with an unreadable expression on his face. “Watch the movie,” he says.

You blink. “Huh?”

Before you know it, he’s tugging you back up onto your feet. He pushes you around, nearly sends you toppling over the coffee table as he positions you to his liking. “Kook!” you exclaim, palms slapping down against the glass tabletop in an effort to catch yourself. Just barely, your reflection glares back up at you.

A tap against your pussy startles you from the sight. “Wha—“

Two hands grab onto your biceps, tugging you up forcefully until your back arches, leaving you bent at a ninety degree angle before him. “Look, sweetheart,” he coos against your ear, voice deep enough that it vibrates through every bone in your body. Your breath stutters in your throat, exhilaration blossoming in your chest. “It’s your favorite movie.”

It is in fact your favorite movie, the same one you had fought tooth and nail just moments prior to watch. On screen, the two damsels are exploring new things in their lives, just how you were experiencing Jungkook’s true intensity for the first time. “It is,” you quietly confirm, back aching from the position.

Jungkook either doesn’t care about your depleting strength or really trusts in you not to faceplant onto his glass coffee table, palms sliding down to the crease of your elbows to hold you. “Tell me what it’s about,” he says

Just as the words leave his mouth, something hard and wet prods against your folds. “Oh,” you cry, fists tightening into balls as the feeling overwhelms you. “Jungkook, please.”

One elbow is let go, and the abrupt release has you scrambling to catch yourself, your glass reflection coming a little too close. This becomes even more difficult when a hand suddenly strikes down hard against your ass, a startled yelp escaping you. Just as quickly as you were released, Jungkook wastes no time snatching your back up, yanking you back until your cunt runs along his cock again.

“C’mon, pretty, thought you knew better,” he sighs playfully.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, chest heaving with every slow roll of his hips. Your pussy was sopping, desperate to be filled with something. It was even worse knowing his dick was right there, just inches outside of where you need him most. “I’m sorry, Daddy,” you repeat.

Jungkook chuckles, and your heart backflips when he finally begins lining himself up. “It’s okay,” he assures you, in that same gentle tone he uses when you accidentally shove the wrong food down the sink disposal. “Baby’s still learning,” he says, pressing a chaste kiss against your shoulder as he begins pushing himself in. Just the head of his cock proves to be a struggle, swollen tip stretching your entrance wide. There’s an extra sting today from your half-hearted preparation, the both of you relying solely on your own arousal and excitement to let him in. It’s a nice kick.

When he finally pops past that initial tightness, you swear you could transcend into another dimension from the absolute feeling of euphoria that washes over you. “Fuck,” you mewl, fighting against his tight hold. Your efforts are in vain, ultimately choosing to drop your head down as the ecstasy continues to wash over you with each inch he offers you.

A warning squeeze around your wrist. “Language,” Jungkook reprimands, though his voice is strained and light.

You nod mindlessly, toes curling against the wooden floor. “It-It feels so good,” you whine. Your knees wobble dangerously beneath you, until you’re swaying just the slightest bit.

He gives until there’s nothing left, the soft hairs around his dick tickling your lips as he reaches the hilt. “There we go,” he grunts, giving you one final tug to make sure this is as far as he can go. You squeal, the brush against your walls making you ridiculously high. “That’s my girl.”

The praise has your stomach tightening, the pretty images flashing across the screen completely lost on you. You felt so full. The two of you rarely did it like this, without looking at each other straight on, but there was something about Jungkook’s looming figure being distorted by your brain’s memory, his touches wild and unpredictable, that made something inside of you twitch.

“Ohhh,” you whimper, muscles going slack for the briefest moment. The only thing that saves you from falling over is the killer grip on your forearms; when he tugs you up his cock runs along your pulsing walls. “Please, Daddy,” you beg, mouth feeling a thousand times heavier.

“The movie,” he repeats, slowly beginning to pull away from your clenching heat. You moan. “Tell me what it’s about,” he husks, punctuating his seemingly innocent statement with a harsh snap of his hips.

You wail, stumbling forward at the intensity. Still, it’s just a taste of what he has in store for you. He soon picks a pace, not too rushed or slow, as you struggle to keep your eyes open. “I-I don’t know,” you choke out, the images flashing across the gigantic screen practically unrecognizable to your muddled thoughts.

Behind you Jungkook tuts at your incompetence, thrusting forward with an intensity that would have sent you flying if not for the grip he has on you. “You don’t know?” he huffs, tugging your elbows back again as if to secure his grip on you.

His hips are moving fast now, every piston into your warm heat making you tremble. “Fffuck,” you gasp, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he continues ramming his cock into your pulsing hole. You’re met with a harsh yank that pulls you snugly onto his cock, your entire body screaming at the way he nudges against your cervix. Despite the pleasure it gives you, Jungkook seems anything but pleased.

“C’mon,” he huffs, twisting your arms painfully behind your back. “What did we say about that dirty mouth?” His question is followed with a snap of his hips that makes you choke on your spit. “Need you to be good for me, baby,” he groans.

“I-I am good,” you weakly defend, head hanging down limply as you fight to regain some semblance of your senses. But everything feels too much, from the rough push of his hips to the tight grip on your arms. His cock pulls out nearly all the way each time, swollen tip the only thing stopping him. Every thrust makes you quiver, every touch makes you melt.

You suppose he’d been too lenient on you up until now, and that final claim makes him snap. Jungkook scoffs, ramming his dick inside of you. “You’re being fucking terrible right now, doll,” he admits, hammering into you like a crazed man. You sob, the coil in your belly tightening with every brutal shove of his cock. It’s something about the way his composure withers away, all sweetness melting off as he thrusts into your cunt. “I’ve asked you twice now what the damn movie was about, and you didn’t answer either time.”

A hand clamps around your throat suddenly, yanking you up right until his breath fans across your ear. You’re not sure when your eyes had become so teary, but the images flickering across the screen are a foggy mess you couldn’t decipher even if you tried. “__,” he rasps against your ear, his voice scratchy. “Tell me. Now.”

You whimper as he shoves his way back inside, the angry head of his cock testing you. “T-Two girls, one’s a princess,” you cry, knees wobbling as the feeling in your core grows. “They look alike, and-and…”

“And?” Jungkook asks as you trail off, his words followed by a particularly brutal surge of his hips. His cock glides against your walls easily despite the way you clench around him.

“A-And they have problems they wanna avoid,” you stammer, the plot slipping in and out of your mind with every roll of his cock into your core. “So-so they swap places.”

Behind you, Jungkook snorts. “What a stupid fucking movie,” he says meanly, before he begins to piston his cock into you. You’re trembling by now, your orgasm looming over your head with each thrust.

Before you can warn him, the thin string holding you together snaps, the sudden flood of relief making your knees buck dangerously. Jungkook barely has enough time to catch you around the waist, holding you against him as a litany of curses and his name come spewing out of your mouth. “No, no,” you wail, your entire body twitching as the orgasm rolls over you. “Kook— Jungkook!”

“I’ve got you,” he reassures you, fingers holding you tight around the waist. The coffee table you had feared cracking your skull on finally comes to use as you press your hands onto the surface in a feeble attempt to steady yourself.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, faintly aware of the rock hard cock between your pulsing walls, probably drenched in your cum now. “I-I didn’t—“

He shushes you quickly, settling the two of you back onto the couch. Funnily enough, he doesn’t bother pulling you off of him, his dick snug inside your cunt as he seats you on his lap. “You’re alright, sweetheart,” he comforts, hands soothingly running up your sides. You want to protest, want to get back on your knees and give him another chance to cum all over your face, but Jungkook nudges your chin with a knuckle. “Watch your movie,” he croons.

The Princess and the Pauper is literally the last thing on your mind right now; didn’t he realize how much you wanted to please him? Why was he choosing now to be so stubborn? Oh, that Jeon Jungkook, maybe Doyeon was right to call him an airhead.

Your slander campaign against your boyfriend is cut short when a hand flutters over your mound, thumb idly tracing over your sensitive clit. Before you can turn and look at him, Jungkook is rutting his hips against you slowly. “The screen, baby,” he says, and you want to argue that you can’t possibly enjoy a movie with him being so sneaky beneath you. The words get washed away when he presses down on your clit.

“Koo— Daddy,” you whine, lower lips still trembling from the orgasm you had two minutes ago. Jungkook responds with a kiss against your shoulder, hands trailing around your waist.

“No more of that,” he mumbles as he begins bouncing you on his cock. You moan, every inhale cut short by the shallow thrusts of his cock into your delicate walls. “Just your Kook now.”

“My… Kook,” you pant dreamily. Your cum provides an even better lubricant than before, lewd squelches filling the area alongside your cries as Jungkook chases both your second orgasms.

“Mhmm,” he groans, jostling you over his lap with no rhythm whatsoever. “Yours, baby.” You stretch your hands back, carding one set of fingers through the hair above his ear, pushing the strands away from his face. “Just like you’re mine.”

Something inside of you tightens painfully, and you’re not sure if it’s your heart or your pussy. You guess it’s both, as you stutter out, “y-your pretty girl?” Jungkook hums in agreement, repeating your favorite nickname back to you. The rest of your words die out between the two of you, lost in the slow and soft movements that fill in. You want to tell him you love him, adore him like no other, but every breath of air is stolen away by him.

Eventually the two of your are cumming, your second orgasms much quieter and slower compared to your first. You still mewl, wither against him when you cream his cock, and Jungkook catches you all the same. He guides you through the fog with kisses against your jaw, your dripping pussy helping him through his own.

When all is said and done and you’re both basking in a post-orgasmic make-out, you realize how sweaty and icky you are. “Ugh, this is gross,” you pout as he wiggles you off his lap. He pushes you beside him, letting you flop over the length of the couch as he reaches for something to clean you up with.

“You’re gross,” he retorts softly, blinking in that slow, drawn out way he does when you know he’s sleepy. His t-shirt runs along your neck, collecting the sweat there.

You nudge him with your foot. “I’m not the one who wanted to fuck during a Barbie movie,” you scoff, pinching the skin on his forearm when his gaze lingers a second too long on your creamy pussy. “Look somewhere else, weirdo.”

Jungkook laughs quietly, looking at you with an adoring expression on his face. He doesn’t even finish cleaning you off, tossing the soiled shirt somewhere off to the side in favor of cuddling into you. “Where? My Jumbotron?” he teases, raining down a parade of kisses against your face. “Don't wanna,” he smiles, too soft and boyish for the words that leave his lips next. “Wanna lick your pretty pussy clean.”

“Jeon Jungkook,” you scold, covering your face with your palms in embarrassment. “Look at your stupid IMAX screen and leave me alone.”

He cackles loudly now, in that evil witch way it took him a while to show you, and you know he’s got that big silly grin on his face now. . “The IMAX screen? The same one that made you,” a pause, “climax?”

“Get off of me.”

——

Just as you predicted, Jungkook’s mom gives him the scolding of a lifetime when she drops by the next weekend. The poor woman nearly faints at the theater screen on the wall, only to quickly regain herself. You giggle from your spot on the couch as she whacks his stupidly ripped bicep with the leek you’re supposed to chop up for dinner later.

What you’re not expecting is for her anger to shift to you as she scolds you for letting her idiotic son make such purchases. She gets one playful thwack against your side with the leek before your charming idiotic boyfriend swoops in to save you.

——

#goldenclosetnet #ksmutclub #networkbangtan #bangtanhq #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jjk smut #mine

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cipheress-to-k-pop · 4 years ago

Note

Hi hi! I was wondering if you could do a dick Grayson x Avatar like fem reader with either a jealous Babs or Zatanna I hope that made sense🥲

True Love’s Kiss

Pairing: Dick Grayson as Nightwing x Reader

Warnings: I don’t think so

Word Count: 4.1K

@writing2sirvive : Hi love, me again but with a request this time. If you have time of course. I was thinking true love’s kiss with Dick Grayson. You can go crazy with it because I know you love Dick Grayson as much as I do. Btw I love your writing so much.

A/N: I think I did it wrong...cuz even though this is a Dick Grayson x reader fic, it’s mostly centred around reader and Zatanna???? Sorry about that???

You were fine with knowing that Dick was still friends with most of his exes. You completely accepted that he was able to keep functional relationships with most of them. In fact, it showed you how amicable and neutral Dick was and how he never held any grudges against people.

Of course, you were surprised by the sheer number. And the fact that he seems to interact with them practically every day. But eventually you managed not to let yourself get too bothered by it.

I mean, how could you? Barbara was the smartest, funniest, most approachable person you had ever met. She always made sure not to overstep her boundaries and was unusually open with you, given that Dick was her ex-boyfriend.

Raquel was adventurous and fun and you always had a good time when you were around her. She was another one who was respectful of your relationship. She never brought up her past flings with Dick, nor did she ever try and put you down. In fact, she was one of the people who really shipped the two of you.

You liked most of his exes. To the point where it made Dick kind of uncomfortable.

You liked most of his exes.

Ever since you had joined the team, being introduced as Nightwing’s significant other, Zatanna had been a constant thorn in your side. She was nice and sweet but there was something about her that rubbed you the wrong way. You could tell almost immediately that she wasn’t quite over her relationship with Dick. Short as it was.

Or maybe she was just the type of person who didn’t want someone, but didn’t want others to have the same person either.

Nonetheless, being around her put you constantly on edge. You lost count of how many times she redirected a conversation to be about her previous relationship with your boyfriend. ‘Oh, Dick took you to a fancy restaurant for your birthday? Well, I remember back when we were dating, he threw a huge party for me on mine.’

‘Oh, you celebrated your one-year anniversary with Dick in Paris? Well during our 3-month-aversary he bought me an expensive necklace.’

It didn’t bother you in the slightest. At least, not in the way that she hoped. It didn’t make you insecure or doubt or feel intimidated by her. It was just an annoyance that you couldn’t shake off, like the teacher you didn’t like or your annoying neighbour.

Unfortunately, Zatanna couldn’t take a hint that it made you and your friends (Barbara and Raquel included) uncomfortable and slightly irritated. Yet, everyone was just waiting for you to express the slightest distaste, not wanting to step on your toes. However, they were quick to change the topic in case they thought she was going too far.

Dick had been blissfully unaware of everything and you wanted to keep it that way. The last thing you needed was this turning into some sort of issue, especially since Zatanna was still his teammate.

However today you had enough.

You could look past Zatanna’s petty jealousy but allowing the jealousy to come to the forefront during a mission was where you drew the line.

Dick, M’Gann and Conner had been on a covert mission for Batman and out of the country and under team vote decided that you should be made in charge until he returned, since you were the only other older member (other than Zatanna but you were voted leader unanimously. Something you were extremely proud about). That was well and good, until you had been given a mission.

Regardless of how much you did not want to work with Zatanna without the others there to wrangle her, you had to put your personal feelings aside when you had a mission to complete.

You thought you could both be professionals about it and act like mature adults.

You were dead wrong.

If it wasn’t disagreements, it was insubordination. If it wasn’t insubordination, it was blatant arrogance. She questioned your judgment in front of the other members and even had the nerve to argue with you about mission strategies. You were trying to look out for everyone and put yourself in the line of fire since the squad members were better at stealth.

Zatanna seemed to think you were trying to steal the show and insisted that she be partnered with you even though you wanted someone with the younger members to keep them safe.

When you relented and agreed to go stealth, she accused you of ducking out and intentionally trying to put her in danger. The others had to watch as steam practically came out of your ears when you relented once again and decided you’d be with her because you honestly couldn’t argue with her much longer.

As if that wasn’t infuriating enough.

The straw that broke the camel’s back was when she refused to work as a team, putting the mission at risk and nearly getting the both of you hurt. She was fighting on her own, not bothering to have your back and going into it alone. Obviously, the two of you were overpowered quickly once they realized that you were pretty much behaving solo.

Luckily, the others pulled through and got you both out of there before anything horrible happened.

You sat in the ship, jaw clenched so tightly that they swore they could hear your teeth cracking, fists nearly white as you tried to control your anger and keep yourself from screaming at her while you were still in the air.

Once the ship landed in the docking bay and Zatanna was the first one to leave without saying another word, you snapped.

“What the hell did you think you were doing today!” You growled out, fisting her collar and stopping her in her tracks.

“What are you talking about?” She feigned innocence and you felt your skin burning. Everything around you faded out and all you could feel was fury. In hindsight, you would have liked to handle this issue in a more refined manner, but you honestly couldn’t care.

So, you didn’t notice the rest of the team, along with the a few members of the Justice League watching you chew Zatanna out.

Whatever would keep you from lighting her on fire was enough.

“I’m talking about putting the mission, not to mention ourselves in jeopardy, all because you can’t stop acting like a spoilt brat!” You hissed.

She rolled her eyes and you and the thought of strangling her briefly crossed your mind before she shoved your hands off her, dusting herself off like your fingerprints were dirt, “You need to stop blaming others for your inadequacy.”

She turned on her heel sharply and walked away. Blood pounded through your ears and your fingers twitched by their sides before you formed a whip of water from the bay and lashed it against her feet.

Zatanna, caught off guard, was thrown across the room before she caught herself with a muttered spell and turned around, glaring at you furiously.

“We’re going to settle things, right here, right now!”

“If you would stop being so insecure, then we could sort out our differences like mature adults!” She screamed back at you and before you could control it, flames erupted from beneath your feet and raced towards her, scorching the ground beneath it.

Each puff of breath you took released sparks. Zatanna immediately got into an offensive stance, levitating one of the weapons crates and chucking at you. You blocked it effortlessly using a wall of earth before throwing an inferno at her.

You kept fighting, flames and splashes of water going into the air every time you collided. The others watched in fear as you both raced towards each other, it looked like neither of you were holding back.

Before you could strike her again, you were being pulled away by Superman and as Zatanna was by Batman, they both pulled you yards apart. Even with his strong, authoritative grip on you, you couldn’t stop thrashing in his arms, throwing gusts of air at her.

“(Y/N). Enough.” Superman spoke in your ear and you calmed down, relaxing in his grip. He let you go after and you winced, feeling your skin bruise where he grabbed you. He gave you an apologetic glance at that.

“You both have to put your differences aside and work as a team or you won’t be allowed to go on any more missions.” Batman told you, voice firm but it didn’t shake you.

“No, Zatanna is going to have to put her issues with me aside and learn that when I have been elected as leader of the squad then you are supposed to put your petty jealousy aside and know your place.” You spat.

“You weren’t right for the position!”

“I did everything right! And if it hadn’t been for you, we wouldn’t have been under open fire tonight!”

“You’re not the boss of me!”

“When I am the leader of the squadron then I am! And you’re meant to listen and not question my judgement because you’re being blinded by your pathetic jealously!”

“I’m not jealous of you!”

“Oh, please! That’s the biggest load of crap I’ve heard from you and it was all proved today! Admit it! You were immature and fucking stupid because you can’t get over that fact that you dated Dick for what? 3 months?”

“That’s because he’s supposed to be with me!”

“LIKE HELL HE IS!” You roared.

Batman felt a little helpless watching the two of you scream at each other. All this fighting? Over a boy? His son, no less? He had other sons and you were free to have your pick. But at this point, he wasn’t even sure what to say.

“You just can’t seem to accept the fact that he doesn’t love you anymore! Get over it! Because he certainly has!” You shouted, spinning on your heel and stomping away from her, determined to have the last word. Superman sighed in relief. He thought another fight would break out.

“You’re just insecure because you know that if he had the chance, he would come crawling back to me!”

A chill went done your spine and you felt cold fury run through your veins, turning around to glare at her murderously and clenching your hands tightly. You were so angry your feet were rooted to the floor, body seizing up slightly.

The others looked anxiously between the two of you as you glared at each other for a minute before you spoke with the calmest, yet most terrifying voice they’ve ever heard from you.

“Zatanna, you can try your damn hardest to win him back. But I promise you, you’re never going to get what you want.” You told her darkly, before walking away.

As Zatanna glared at your receding figure she decided she was going to prove you wrong.

***

To keep you from fighting with Zatanna again, when Batman came to you with a solo mission you couldn’t agree fast enough. Even though you knew you’d miss Dick’s homecoming, you still wanted to get the hell away from here. Not like you’d be missing anything important, other than Zatanna fawning over him.

You’d get to tell him how much you missed him in private anyway.

As soon as you were out of the cave, you couldn’t help the relief that filled your bones. You had been so on edge the past few days, still furious with her so the distance between the two of you was appreciated.

When Dick got home, he was ecstatic to see you again. It had been nearly 3 weeks since he had last held you and his skin was practically buzzing with excitement when he reached a cave, desperate to hug you, kiss you, touch you.

He got to the mess hall quickly, running all the way there and when he opened the door, he was instantly disappointed. You weren’t there.

“Where’s (Y/N)?” He asked Beast Boy, hoping he would tell him that you were just back at your apartment or that you had gone out for a while and would be back soon but he felt his heart sink when Gar gave him a sympathetic smile.

“She’s on a mission for a week.”

“A mission? Who’s with her?”

“No one. It’s a solo mission.”

Now he was worried. You usually didn’t take solo missions, liking to work in a team, knowing that there would be people who would be watching your back was reassuring. He knew you were more than skilled to handle a solo mission but not being by your side made him nervous and slightly antsy.

He was also upset that you weren’t here. So, he decided to do the most adult thing. Go home and sulk in bed while holding your sweatshirt that smelt like you.

But apparently the world had something against him because when he was about to go through the Zeta tube he was intercepted. By non other than Zatanna.

Now, poor clueless Dick had no idea that you had thrown hands with Zatanna just a day ago and was the reason why you weren’t there to welcome him when he got back. If he had he would’ve sulked at her and whined loudly for her to hear while he dragged his feet.

But, poor clueless Dick had absolutely no idea Zatanna was the reason he was being deprived of your kisses. So, he just smiled brightly at her and asked her if she needed anything.

“As a matter of fact, I found an old spell and I need someone to test it out on!”

“I don’t know how I feel about being your non-scientific experiment, Z.”

“Come on, it’s totally harmless, I promise.”

“I don’t know...”

“Don’t you trust me?”

He did. But there was just something about this situation that made him uncomfortable. Maybe it was because he missed you like crazy and just wanted to go home and sulk until you came back. Maybe it was because he felt uncomfortable to go somewhere private with his ex-girlfriend without telling you first. Or maybe it was because of the way Zatanna felt the need to guilt him into it.

Nevertheless, he agreed, albeit reluctantly and went to her room. Inside Zatanna had a bunch of ruins written on a paper and some weird poultices beside it.

“Now this isn’t going to work unless you give me your consent.” She informed, bustling about the room and Dick suddenly felt the air was a little stuffy.

“What do you mean by consent? Consent for what?”

“It’s a love spell.” She told him, smiling slyly but he couldn’t quite understand why. His hands got a little clammy at the announcement. What did she mean by love spell? Was she trying to get him to fall in love with her? Why would she be so open about it then? Especially when she knew he was in love with someone else?

“What do you mean?”

“Oh relax, stop being so tense. It’s just a love spell that proves who you truly love.” She said, immediately noticing how stiff his body was. Though she chalked it up to confusion. Dick was simply confused about who he loved, he was clouded by his attraction to you and he felt guilty about being unfaithful. But deep down, he really loved her. And this spell would prove it.

“In the olden ages, people would use it on their wedding to prove that their significant other truly loved them.”

He nodded, mouth falling open with realization. He already knew what the answer would be so why even bother? He assumed it was because Zatanna was curious to whether it actually worked.

“Too bad (Y/N) isn’t here, I mean I know who I love but I’d like to try it out on her. I mean, who takes a mission the day before their boyfriend comes back to town.” He complained, more to himself but Zatanna still heard it.

“Anyway, can I cast it on you?”

“Sure, couldn’t hurt.”

Oh, how he’d come to know just how wrong he was.

***

You raced through the halls, panicked, hearing your heart beat out of your chest as you sprinted to the Med Bay. Even though you were running as quick as possible you still pumped your legs to run faster, needing to get there quickly.

As soon as you saw Zatanna outside the Med Bay, you skidded to a stop in front of her and grabbing her collar, pinning her against the wall. She hit it with a thud and she saw white for a second when her head collided with the hard surface.

It was then you got a good look at her face. Her eyes were red and face wet. Her lips were bitten until they bled. You gritted your teeth, grip tightening around the collar as tears pricked your eyes.

“What the hell did you do!”

She whimpered, eyes getting glossy again before she started crying, incomprehensible words leaving her lips and you snarled before shaking her again, “You don’t get to cry! What the hell did you do to him!”

“It was a love spell!” She cried out, “It was supposed to reveal who he truly loves.”

“AND?!”

“It’s activated by a kiss.” She sniffled, “And I did.”

“Is it done?” Dick asked just as she finished casting the spell. His body was enveloped by a slight glow that was only visible to her and Zatanna’s lips curled when she realized it had worked. Now there was only one thing left to do.

“Yep.” She said, slinking over to his side and he pouted curiously.

“Are you sure? I don’t feel any different. You said it was supposed to reveal who I love. What happened?”

“We’re gonna find that out. Hold still.” She said, smiling and wrapping her arms around his neck to press a kiss to his lips. Dick froze, feeling her lips move against his and his mind went blank for a second before his chest contracted painfully.

He gasped against her mouth, before his legs buckled and he tumbled to the ground. Zatanna’s eyes widened when she saw the way his body twitched, pained gasps leaving his mouth and tears began falling from his eyes.

“Are you okay?!” She panicked, wrapping her arms around his thrashing figure but he couldn’t choke out an answer.

“Someone help! Anyone! Please!”

“A kiss doesn’t put people through cardiac arrest!” You screamed, feeling your chest tighten as you heard it out loud for the first time. Your eyes began burning and your throat contracted, feeling tears build. It was the first time you had admitted it to yourself.

You were scared. Emotions that you could barely process or understand swirled around you in a dark cloud and you were scared that Dick wouldn’t make it out of his critical state. If he was taken away from you because you hadn’t been there to stop it, you would never forgive yourself.

“I’m sorry.” She whimpered, sobbing and her body went limp in your fists. The urge to rip her head off her shoulders resurfaced. She didn’t get to be upset, not when this was all her fault.

“I don’t give a shit.” You hissed, “How do we save him?”

“A true love’s kiss should stop all the side effects.” She whispered, looking up at you with wide eyes, “If Dick truly loves you, then when you kiss him, it’ll reverse the spell.”

You needed to get in there.

You released your hold and Zatanna and she slid to the floor pathetically, holding her body as she cried. But even with her heartbroken sobs, you couldn’t feel any sort of remorse to her, glaring at her instead, “You better hope this works. Or I’ll kill you myself.”

And then you rushed in.

When you got to Dick’s side your breath stuttered when you noticed just how many things he was connected to and you felt your body shake. Batman was carefully watching him from his bedside.

You carefully walked to his side, gently brushing your fingers against his cheekbone. He looked like he was in so much pain. He looked so weak. You wanted to help him but a part of you was scared. For the first time in your life, you doubted Dick’s feelings for you.

The time you needed his love and devotion to be true the most, you were doubtful. A million thoughts rushed through your head and for a second you were tempted to just avoid doing this at all. But you knew that you had to at least try.

So, with trembling hands, you held the ventilator fastened to his mouth, taking a deep breath before tugging it off. Batman, already knowing what you were about to do, let you pull it off him before pressing a fluttering kiss to his lips. Tears gathered underneath your lashes when you didn’t feel anything happen.

Just when you were about to pull away, Dick took a deep breath through his nose and panted against your mouth, kissing you more firmly. You couldn’t help the sob that bubbled out of your throat and he swallowed it without any qualms.

Even through bleary vision, you were able to make out his blue eyes and the small smile on his face.

His hands came up to weakly cup for cheeks, gently wiping away the tears with his thumbs, “I missed you.”

You sniffled, letting more tears fall because you knew he’d be here to wipe them away, “I missed you too.”

***

Bonus:

You walked into the mess hall quietly. Dick had just fallen asleep in the Med Bay where he would be kept for a couple days under observation. It was past 1 in the night and you wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed but you had some unfinished business left to handle.

It was dark and it was hard to make out your surroundings until your eyes adjusted to the darkness. As you walked to the kitchen island, your eyes landed on the sorceress that had her head in her arms and wondered if she was asleep. Batman had said you were free to deal with her anyway you liked and that had been exactly your plan.

“He’s okay now, if you’re curious.” You told her. Her head shot up and she looked at you out of the corner of her eye before bowing it away shamefully. But you caught a glance at her face. She looked like she had been crying for hours, eyes bloodshot and face red and blotchy.

“Thank god.” She croaked out.

There was a beat of silence.

“I’m so so sorry, (Y/N).” Zatanna whimpered out before crying again, “You were right. I was jealous. And I did a crazy, wrong thing. And I’m so sorry.”

You sighed, nodding at her apology even though you knew she couldn’t see you. You weren’t sure if you accepted it, and you didn’t have to. For now, it could remain in the air.

“He really doesn’t love me....” She whispered out and you sighed once again, stepping up beside her and setting something on the table.

Zatanna glanced at the bottle of tequila and the two shot glasses you left. You didn’t look at her, instead choosing to stare straight ahead. You opened the bottle, pouring yourself a shot before tilting your head back and downing it, hissing at the burn.

“Obligatory break-up drink.” You mumbled, pouring her a shot and passing the glass to her.

She sniffled, looking at the glass in her hands before gulping it down. You took a deep breath, refilling the glasses. You still didn’t look at her, didn’t speak to her, just poured a refill when either of you finished and downed it in one gulp. The excitement from today and the tense feeling from sitting beside Zatanna kept you from getting drunk too early.

You two ended up finishing half the bottle, drinking in the dark until she passed out first and you followed soon after.

The others found you the next morning, passed out at the kitchen island, clutching empty shot glasses.

***

Bonus bonus:

Batman sighed, smelling the overwhelming scent of tequila as he came closer. None of them were able to wake either of you up. You were out cold, face scrunched up and head against the table in a position that would no doubt have your neck in a crick.

Zatanna was no better. Her hair was a mess, tequila spilt on her clothes and she was drooling all over the table, snoring unattractively.

“All this over a boy?”

Forever Taglist:

@simonsbluee

DC Taglist:

@emmacata

@p--e--a--c--h--e--s

@sometimeseverythingsucks

@sokkas-honour

@unstable1902

@lostgirlheart

@missdisapear

@tadpole-san

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genshin-obsessed · 4 years ago

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My (f/n) | Zhongli x Reader

Hello! This was originally a collab idea from a friend between like 5 people. The friend who suggested the collab pulled out and idk about others lmao so it might just be me. BUT I COMMITED AND DELIVERED SO! Cuz I’m responsible and amazing💖 anyway. It’s a reincarnation AU! Banner made by 🎭 anon! Thanks to @squeaky-ducky and @solies-scripts for helping me edit this💖

Extra sidenotes: Your previous self’s vision is pyro but you can choose whatever for the reincarnated version even tho it’s not mentioned. Also, Yehara and Lilith are my OCs (yes... more)

Length: 2.1k Summary: Zhongli loves and cherishes you above all else. One day, you’re snatched away from him and the world turns black for him. Yet somehow, a thousand years later, he sees you again.

The bright sun beamed down at the land below, illuminating everything in a golden glow. Zhongli stepped out into the light and closed his eyes, inhaling the fresh air.

Days like these were beautiful but they became a blessing all thanks to one person. A smile graced Zhongli’s beautiful features at the thought of them. His hand found its way onto his chest and he felt it steadily beat. He felt an overwhelming sense of serenity and it was all thanks to this person. You.

You, yourself, were a blessing in this archon’s life. He never thought he would ever feel like this. That he would ever feel love. What was love to archons? They usually loved the lands they resided over. The original archons held love for humanity and guided them.

For Zhongli, love was something of a general term. He loved the sun, the lands… today. But his love for you was something he couldn’t describe. Something the man of wondrous knowledge couldn’t understand.

Zhongli came to realize that love wasn’t something that could be easily explained nor did it need to be. Love gave him overwhelming happiness, so why bother trying to understand every aspect of such a beautiful idea.

The Geo archon walked through the city of Liyue and although he felt great joy, there was also a certain uneasiness. He paused and touched his chest once more as the anxiety grew.

Ultimately, the man ignored it, unable to find the root cause of such dread. He instead opted to find you, so you could settle his nerves a little.

***

“Zhongli!” You beamed once you saw him. He chuckled as you ran to him and wrapped your arms around his slim figure.

“You’re rather excited today,” he commented as he hugged back, “what brought on such elation?”

“Hmm, a very pretty man.” You said, cheekily. There it was, that smile of yours washed away any and all discomfort he felt.

“Oh, is that so? I’m quite jealous.”

“I wouldn’t be.” Zhongli chuckled once more as you leaned in and gave him a kiss. The sensation of your soft lips remained on his even after you’d pulled away. “What brings you here today?”

“I was thinking we could spend some time together. We could go for a walk, maybe set up a picnic since that’s what you wanted to do last time.”

“Really!? You’ll go on a picnic with me?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?” Your radiant smile was contagious as he found himself smiling in return.

“I’ll set it up!! It can be a late night picnic or- oh! Oh! Let’s watch the sunset! Then we can have our picnic. I’ll set up candles!” Your enthusiasm was always something Zhongli loved. It benefited him more than he could admit.

“Alright then. Where?”

“Our spot!” Zhongli teasingly tilted his head making you pout.

“What spot? I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

“Yes you do! Come on, Zhongli!” Zhongli leaned in and pecked your pouty lips before nodding.

“I do. Then I’ll meet you there?” You nodded with a bright smile.

“Yes! Exactly! I’ll have everything set up and I want it to be a surprise.”

Zhongli spent a little more time with you before he left, since you needed to prepare for the date. Only a few minutes after he’d left you, the anxiety returned. He touched his chest once more with furrowed brows. What was this?

***

You smiled as you started to place the items down onto the blanket. You’d been planning this picnic for weeks now and you finally had the chance to do it.

You set the cushions and small table you had brought, placing the candles and wine bottle. The food would remain in the basket to keep it safe from bugs since you had to wait quite a while. Hopefully your pyro vision was enough to keep it warm.

“Hello, are you (y/f/n)?” A soft voice called from behind. You turned around and saw a shy, but beautiful woman with long pink hair. The clothes she wore indicated she clearly wasn’t from here. She fidgeted with her hand, showing she was nervous.

“Um… who’s asking?”

“Ah, sorry! My name is Lilith but you can call me Lily. I was told you knew where I could find a um… Mr. Zhongli?”

Zhongli? Why was she looking for him? Finding her safe enough, you opted to direct her to your boyfriend rather than giving information about yourself.

“Oh, yes I do! He’s back in Liyue but you’ll find him at Wangshen Funeral Parlor.”

“Thank you so much!” But she didn’t leave. A giggle escaped her lips and she met your eyes, giving you a dreadful feeling.

“Y-yes?”

“So he’s not here with you… good.” In the blink of an eye, Lilith was in front of you. She threw you back causing you to fly into a tree. You let out a scream as your weakened body hit the ground. Pain shot through you and you weakly looked up at her.

“Wh-why…”

“Pitiful. You’d think he’d choose someone of his caliber but no. He chose someone weak and pathetic like you. Your pyro vision was wasted on you.” Woah, where did her soft voice and shy demeanor go?

“Zh-Zhongli…” you called out as Lilith picked you up and slammed you into the tree once more.

“Call him all you want. But he won’t get here in time.” Lilith repeatedly slammed you into the tree before a sickening crack was heard.

A weak whimper escaped your bloodied lips as the light faded from your eyes.

“H-help m-me… Zh… Zhong… li…” Lilith caught your limp body and picked you up. A wicked smile played on her lips as she walked to her destination.

***

It had happened all so suddenly. Zhongli was meeting an acquaintance to talk about his work at the funeral parlor when he felt a sharp, intense pain in his chest and back. He just knew.

He threw everything away, apologizing to his friend and practically sprinting to where you two were supposed to meet. There he was met with a grim sight.

The picnic had been set up almost completely, but the large tree behind it was covered in blood. The Geo Archon knew exactly who it belonged to. He finally noticed the letter sitting on the table.

Once he read it, he ran to the nearest Statue of the Seven in hopes of finding you and whoever took you. But it was too late. When he finally reached the statue, his heart shattered.

Your body was on top of the statue, laying across the lap of the stone man. Blood trailed down your arm that hung over the edge and dripped from your finger. Your lifeless eyes stared into nothingness, the final sign of your death.

A large pillar solidified in front of him and he quickly climbed up to get to you. Zhongli’s shaky hand slowly and hesitantly touched yours. Cold. You were so cold. Where was your usual warmth? Where was that dazzling smile that often chased away his sorrows? Where was the light in your eyes? Where was the joy you brought him?

“M-my… (f/n)...” he murmured in a sorrowful tone, “what’s… no. No, this isn’t happening.” He pulled you down and into his arms, wincing at how lifeless you were.

You couldn’t be dead, you couldn’t have left him. He jumped down to the ground with you tightly in his arms. His eyes stung and his vision started to get blurry. Crying? An archon, crying? The tears slowly slid down his pale cheeks. His voice cracked when he spoke up.

“Wake up, my love. Please wake up.” He begged looking down at you. The blood trickled down your mouth, a clear sign you’d been killed recently. Within the hour, actually. “P-please blink… please wake up. Please come back to m-me. I just… I can’t do this without you. I…” what could he say? What could he do?

Zhongli had failed. He’d failed to keep you safe and alive. He’d vowed to always protect you and he vowed to never let you get hurt.

The tears spilled down his cheeks and the pain in his heart grew. He took your face in his free hand and took a good look at his consequence. At his failure.

“Tell m-me this is just s-some cruel joke, w-wake up and tell me this isn’t real. I-it’s just a n-nightmare, right? Right?” Zhongli held you tightly with his head pressed against your chest. Nothing. He heard nothing.

You never blinked, you never looked up at him with that adorable giggle, and you never exclaimed it was a joke.

You really were gone.

***

How many years ago was that now? Almost a thousand? Zhongli had never gotten over your death and how could he? His first and only lover had been ripped away from him and he still hadn’t found the murderer.

There had been a significant change in Zhongli since then. He was much more reserved and defensive but he was also very protective of anyone he came to call a friend. Ever since losing you, he found it hard to love and care for people the same way.

There was a constant emptiness, a loneliness that never left. No matter how many friends surrounded him, he always felt empty. Food and drinks were tasteless and the world lacked color. No smile matched yours, no warmth matched yours, and he never found a pair of dazzling eyes such as yours. And he was sure he’d never see them again… or so he thought.

“Zhongli! Are you coming?” Yehara asked, making the man look toward her.

“Oh, sure. Let’s go.” Zhongli had met Yehara a few years ago and had helped her during a commission. She hadn’t been doing so well and he’d practically saved her. Ever since then, she stuck to him like glue. Although he wasn’t terribly fond of her from the beginning, he grew to like her. Once they were close enough, Zhongli finally opened up about you and your death.

Yehara swore she’d help solve the murder and wouldn’t rest until he knew. Zhongli had grown much closer to her than he anticipated. The relationship gave him complicated feelings, ones he didn't want to even deal with.

At first, he wondered if he had feelings for Yehara or else why did he feel so comfortable with her? Why did he feel so safe? Why did he often find himself seeking her out when he felt alone? He was scared because you were long gone but for him it was just yesterday. Zhongli didn't want to move on, no matter how healthy it was. He only wanted you, nobody else. Not Yehara, not another archon, no one but you.

There were many things he felt with you that he didn’t with Yehara. Her smile didn’t light up his world, her laughter didn’t echo in his ears, her hugs didn’t leave him tingling, and her words never stayed with him for more than a minute.

There were many nights he spent thinking about himself and Yehara. Was he in love with her? It took some time, but he eventually came to the conclusion that didn’t. He hoped she didn’t either.

“Zhongli! Stop dozing off!” Yehara said, making him look down. He chuckled and patted her head, before looking away.

“Sorry, sorry. It won’t happen ag-” Zhongli stopped abruptly, his golden-orange eyes widened. No…

“Oh come on Zhongli, you just said this wouldn’t happen again.” Yehara huffed and followed his gaze. He was looking into a group of people but after a few moments, her red eyes widened as well.

A person, looking EXACTLY like you was smelling some flowers at a stall. You smiled and Zhongli’s heart sped up immediately.

“It’s them… that’s my (f/n)... I know it.” The archon whispered.

“That can’t be… I thought…” Yehara looked at Zhongli only to look back at you. The duo watched as you nodded and purchased the flowers and turned towards them. When your eyes landed on them you froze, almost as if you’d seen a ghost.

“They saw us.” Yehara gasped, bringing Zhongli out of his trance. You did. You were looking directly at him with the same look of shock. Without wasting any more time, you ran towards him and stopped right in front of them. Zhongli’s heart was beating out of his chest and he clenched his hands. Why were you looking at him like that?

“You’re… Zhongli, right? I’m (y/f/n)... I know you from my dreams.”

“Dreams?” Yehara asked and you nodded, giving her a soft smile. You were more beautiful than Zhongli had described. She could see why he was so infatuated.

“I began dreaming about you when I turned 20.” That was an odd coincidence, since you were 20 when he first asked you to be his.

“You… know me?”

“I do. I only know things from dreams and as dreams not memories… but since you’re here in front of me, there has to be some truth to them. So will you tell me more?” A smile of relief appeared on his lips and he nodded.

“Of course, anything for you… my (f/n).”

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin zhongli x reader #zhongli x reader #zhongli imagines #reincarnation au

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twentytarot · 3 years ago

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hi everyone! i’ve been hard at work with my job this past month but i am finally done and back with a reading. today, we’re doing a reading on marriage in your life in general. pick the tiffiany ring that sets your thoughts off, triggers a memory or invokes a strong emotion and scroll right down for your reading. see you there! 💍

CONTENT WARNING: there are negative piles here. not every pile has a future spouse.

PILE ONE: CUSHION CUT

if you were handed an ultimatum and forced to choose between marriage and work, you’d probably get into your car and go to work the next morning. this makes things a little complicated, because you’re ambitious, you’re feisty, you hate it when your time and attention is used up on something that doesn’t matter to you. if you get married, however, your time will be eroded by many things that don’t matter in hindsight. you see, there will always be ridiculous in-laws, there will always be someone that will want your help so long as it is available. someone is going to want kids, even if that decision is completely irrelevant to them, or something dumb like that. no married couple gets out of having to deal with these things, and no couple gets through it without fighting over it a single time. so, my question to you is: will you have the patience to see this through? or will you fold?

unfortunately, the cards don’t predict the best of outcomes when it comes to your marriage. you probably will decide not to get married in the first place. if you do, you might remarry, or get into a questionable third-party situation. yet, i don’t see this being a huge hindrance on your life as a whole. you seem to me like the kind of person who cares less about having an other half compared to your friends, and i think you are going to have so much going for you in other facets in your life that you won’t be clinging onto this relationship when it goes south. this gives me celebrity vibes, almost, like someone who can never be home and the relationship ends because work is so demanding. so this will be a little sad, but i’m confident you will pick yourself back up quickly.

astrologically, cancer came out very strong, and the interpretation i want to go with is that your most significant relationship will be very cancerian in nature. comforting at first, but ultimately probably not aligned with what you want to do with your life. that’s alright, you’ll be able to afford your own diamond ring anyway.

PILE TWO: SOLITARE

well, pile two, it looks like someone told you “if no one is going to marry you, i will”, and then they took it seriously. i kid, but i do see an element of your future spouse being someone you didn’t expect at all. perhaps you thought they would just be a best friend that knows all your secrets. and yet, this person knows your darkest secrets and then offers you love in its purest form. i get the feeling you’re not quite used to that, pile two. i’m hearing this underlying feeling of “what if i give too much, wait what if i give too little”, and i think this is partly because you haven’t seen first-hand a marriage that is of the kind you want to be in. it feels like you’re not sure if happy marriages exist in your world. well, they do. it just turns out that you give just the right amount when you’re not trying, which is why a best friend finally becomes your spouse.

this person will be with you through thick and thin, you will feel like they are your soulmate. you will always feel balanced in your relationship with this person because they will always be silently watching the scales, tipping it this way and that whenever something is about to swing out of balance. they will help you feel like you have nothing to worry about, they will bring a childlike kind of happiness into your life.

now, onto a little bit of warning. no marriage is only ever happy, and i sense that your source of pain will come from outside influences. money is one, health is another. you will be very much together, but it’s a blessing and a curse because when one goes down, the other follows. the advice to you is to try your best to lift each other up through bad times, and know when you have to detach and go do your thing alone for the good of your future with them. you don’t have to always turn around to make sure they’re following, they’re your forever! they’ll be there.

PILE THREE: ROSE INFINITY

your marriage isn’t going to be a very fast-paced one— when you meet your future person, you’re going to be eons away from being ready to get married, and they will be the same. i almost feel like you will laugh at yourself when you start dating this person. the relationship just isn’t... pretty. this person almost brings out the worst in you: you fight them about the stupidest things and rile them up all the time just because it’s funny. there’s ten separate occasions where you’re pretty sure you should have been dumped or dumped them for some iconic out of left field insults, but for some reason it’s just funny after you’ve both calmed down. so it’s fun, and it’s so 20-something, but you’re preparing yourself for the inevitable breakup. and then... it somehow never comes.

somewhere along the lines, you grew up, and so did they. you didn’t know it then, but this person brings the best out of you as much as they bring out the worst. like a tantrum that just has to be thrown before a little child can settle down, you took your growing pains out on each other, and then somehow managed to fit into each others’ lives forever without even thinking about it. you give each other love naturally, flowing with each other and keeping each other sane. after you get married, there’s a feeling of “i can rest when this person is around” kind of energy because you trust each other to come out with the truth when it needs to be said, but you also trust that the person will be there to pick up the pieces if you break.

so this person isn’t as good-looking as you hoped or imagined. or they’re not the type to show you off, and they’re not really the type that wants to be showed off either. so maybe someone made a joke at their expense and you laughed. the beauty of all of that is, despite all of that, they love you and will for a long time. isn’t that already more than we can ask for, as mere mortals?

PILE FOUR: YELLOW HALO

okay... there are two groups of people in this pile. let’s talk similarities first. your partner is going to be quite eccentric. visual arts came up in particular, so perhaps your partner will be an artist? the last similarity is that marriage is unlikely, but as for why, it depends on which interpretation resonates more with you.

for the first group, this is probably my lgbt+ in a place that hasn’t legalised marriages not between a man and a woman pile. for reasons that seem bigger than yourself, marriage is unlikely in your life. i feel a lot of unwelcome judgement coming from this group. i think you might not get too much support around you; maybe your parents have something against people who are not in “professional degree” jobs, or your family and environment as a whole is very conservative. regardless, you will be with this person, but it might be beyond both of your abilities to get married for real. :( i’m sorry, i wish the world were kinder.

if the first interpretation doesn’t resonate, then it has something more to do with your stubbornness. everyone wants someone that will take them for exactly who they are. that doesn’t change the fact that no two people are completely perfect for each other, though. every couple starts by taking apart their schedule and fitting the other’s in. tolerating strawberry shortcakes on their partner’s birthday even if they hate strawberries. stopping their work short even if it means that coming back to it will be hard because their partner needs something. advice here is to rethink your mindset. you could be very successful in your career, but if you think you won’t be able to go home to an empty bed, or you know that family is what you want in the future, then see how you can be more considerate to the people around you. we don’t always like to hear this, but being considerate and selfish is a never-ending balancing game, so don’t feel too bad. you’re not a bad person! these things just take time. whichever way you choose, i hope it’s the one that makes you the happiest!

#pick a card #pick a pile #pick a card reading #pick a pile reading #tarot reading #free tarot reading

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messers-moony · 3 years ago

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Hargreeves Holidays | F.H

Paring: Five Hargreeves X Fem!Reader

Summary: A Christmas holiday with the Hargreeves.

Waking up on Christmas Day always felt like a typical day in the Hargreeves Manor. However, the kids were older now, and their guardian was dead. Luther had found a place of his own; Diego still lived in his room at the gym. Allison had a house of her own where she and Claire lived. After many court dates and lawyers, Allison proved worthy to have her daughter back in her custody, which the Hargreeves were more than excited to meet their new niece.

Klaus had remained sober for months now. Even though he found no one else to love aside from Dave, he remained sober. Klaus lived in a tiny apartment not far from the Hargreeves Manor. Ben Hargreeves followed Klaus around as per usual and couldn’t be happier at his sober brother. Vanya remained in her apartment. Finally, Y/n and Five both lived together in a shared apartment. A one-bedroom and two bathroom apartment they adored.

In completion of many many arguments, the Hargreeves decided to celebrate Christmas for the first year at Y/n and Five’s apartment. It had been five years since the apocalypse scenario had ended. They had officially stopped the apocalypse. It gave Y/n and Five the chance to work on their relationship, to be an actual couple.

Five couldn’t be happier; neither could Y/n. Granted, when their relationship was brought to light, it was kind of surprising. Their siblings never thought in a million years they would end up together. On the contrary, time works in weird ways, and they did. Waking up every morning to her in his arms made him feel loved.

Just days before this one, Y/n was stressing out over how to make this the best holiday possible. Meanwhile, her significant other, Five, was no help. All he wanted her to do was snuggle with her on the couch, which she would’ve been more than happier to do if her schedule wasn’t full. After enough persuasion from Five, she agreed just to rest her nerves.

And that’s how they needed up where they are now. Y/n was cuddled against Fives chest as he had his arms around her, pulling her close and protectively. The light began to come through the blinds of their bedroom, making Five wake up. His eyes fluttered open, and almost instinctively, he kissed Y/n’s forehead just like he did every morning.

He saw her eyes closed and felt her even breathing, indicating she was still asleep. Slowly he brought his hand up from her back to her head and ran his fingers through her hair, knowing it always calmed her. He hated to see her stressed, so to see her calm and at ease made him want her to stay like that as long as possible. Eventually, she woke up.

“ Goodmorning Love. “ Five whispered as she tried to snuggle closer to him.

She groaned, “ It’s too early. “ Y/n replied, making Five chuckle.

“ Okay, love. “ He smiled, leaning down to kiss her nose.

So the two significant others laid like that just for a couple more minutes. Before Five decided it was time for his daily morning coffee. So he let go of his girlfriend and stood up from the bed, making Y/n reach back out for him.

“ Hey, where are you going? “ Y/n whined, pouting her lips, making Five smile, “ Making coffee, you’re more than welcome to join. “

“ Can you bring me some? “ She smiled. “ Of course, only for you. “ Five replied, smiling and walking out of the bedroom, leaving Y/n to stay comfy in bed.

Five walked outside the bedroom with a stupid smile on his face. His girlfriend was powerful, literally. Her most potent superpower was ‘controlling’ Five into doing whatever she wanted. All she had to do was smile at him, and he’d do it; worst part of all? He knew it worked too.

Putting a pot of coffee into the coffee maker took a couple of minutes to brew but gave him time to prepare what he needed. He brought out two mugs and a bottle of Y/n’s coffee creamer from the fridge, which he despised, but she enjoyed it. After the coffee was made, he poured coffee into both mugs, splashed a bit of creamer into her cup. Finally, putting away the creamer and moving the pot of coffee back under the coffee maker.

He walked into the room with two mugs to see her on her phone, possibly scrolling through something or texting Vanya, a frequent occurrence. She saw him walk into the room and set down her phone to make grabbing hands towards him for her coffee. He handed her the mug and then walked to his side of the bed to sit beside her. She took a sip and smiled.

“ Thank you. “ She smiled, kissing his cheek lightly.

“ You’re welcome. “ He replied, after taking a sip of his coffee, “ So, what’s on your schedule today? “ Five asked as he took another sip of coffee.

“ Well, I pretty much have everything down. Everyone’s bringing what they want to drink, I think I just have to put everything out, but that won’t be till 6 o’clock since everyone should be here at 6:45. But you never know with Klaus. “ She chuckled, “ Oh! I have a request for you. “

“ I feel like you always have a request for me. “ He sarcastically replied, making her smack his arm, “ That’s not nice! Anyways. I have some presents for Claire that need to be wrapped, and since I’ve seen the gifts you’ve wrapped under the tree for me, which are perfect, I was wondering if you could do Claire’s for me? “ She grinned, taking a sip of her coffee.

“ Sure, is there anything else you need me to do? “ He asked, smirking slightly, “ After that, I just need you to sit still and look pretty. “ She winked.

“ Which you do a pretty good job at. “ She replied, looking him up and down, which was a loose tank top paired with some sweatpants, “ And I could say the same for you. “ He smirked, looking at his oversized shirt that she wore along with some shorts hidden from the t-shirt.

“ Shut up. “ She smacked his arm again, blushing, “ What? I’m just saying the truth. You look good. “ He smiled, kissing her cheek.

“ Alright I’m getting outta bed, you do what I need you to while I finished what I need to finish okay? “ Y/n asked standing from the bed and walking to the doorway.

“ Yes ma’am. “ He assured as she walked out of the room.

Time passed quicker then they both were expecting. Five had finished wrapping gifts for Claire and had taken a shower, to fulfill the request of his girlfriends called ‘sit still and look pretty’. Vanya had came over earlier then expected to help Y/n do anything that was needed which wasn’t much. After Y/n had taken a shower and changed it was 6:45 which was when Klaus showed up.

The door bell ring causing Five to get up and open the door, “ Fivey! “ Klaus exclaimed hugging his younger brother.

“ Hi Klaus. “ Five smiled wrapping his arms around his brother.

Once the two brothers stopped hugging Klaus walked in and began chatting with Vanya, meanwhile, Five closed the door. He walked into his shared bedroom to find Y/n doing last minute touches to her hair. He smiled and walked behind her, hugging her waist while his chin sat on her shoulder.

“ You look pretty. “ He smiled kissing her cheek, “ Thank you, you do too. “ She replied setting down the iron and turning it off.

She turned around in his arms, now fully hugging, “ Who’s here so far? “ She asked pulling away to look at her boyfriends face, “ Klaus, surprisingly. “ He smiled.

“ He’s on time?! Must be some form of Christmas miracle. “ She laughed while fixing a loose hair on his forehead, “ I got so lucky. “ He mumbled.

“ Mm? “ She hummed as her eyebrow furrowed with confusion, “ I got lucky. “ He answered.

“ How do you figure? “ She asked, “ Because you are a godsend. “ He grinned, kissing her forehead.

“ Oh Y/n~! Where’s your alcohol? “ Klaus’ singsong voice echoed making both lovers laugh.

“ I’ll be out in a second Klaus. “ She yelled in response, “ Come on love. “ She said kissing his cheek.

Both lovers walked out of their shared bedroom to their main room. They met the graze of Klaus and Vanya. Y/n stepped away from Five’s side to acquire the liquor Klaus wanted, which was on top of the fridge. She poured him a cup and handed it to him.

“ You only get a cup. You’ve done so well with sobriety. “ She warned, “ I know, I know. “ Klaus waved off taking the cup.

Then a knock on the door was heard again, making Y/n look towards Five. He rolled his eyes playful and walked towards the door, meeting the eyes of Allison, Claire, Luther, and Diego. He stepped aside and allowed everyone in.

“ Uncle Five! “ Claire shouted running into his arms, making Y/n smile from afar.

“ Hey little girl. “ Five smiled, ruffling her hair, “ Wheres aunt Y/n? “ Claire asked making Five point in her direction.

“ Hey Claire. “ Y/n smiled from the island of the kitchen, Claire immediately ran to her hugging her tightly.

Eventually everyone got settled in and sat around in the medium apartments living room. Claire sat on Allison’s lap and everyone else took their place on a couch. The hall began to make small talk. Until Claire had interjected.

“ Can we do presents? Please? “ Claire pouted.

“ Sure honey. “ Allison responded as Claire jumped from her lap onto the floor.

“ I’ll give everyone their presents and set them in front of everyone, okay? “ Y/n asked, “ Yes ma’am. “ Claire replied.

Y/n then went under the tree and gave the presents to their respected individuals. Y/n took her spot right next Five and everyone opened their presents. No one got anything in particular really but it was fun to see everyone happy, at least that’s what Y/n thought.

After everyone went home, Y/n and Five were left with the mess. Five was cleaning up all the wrapping paper while Y/n was cleaning the kitchen. Once Five finished he helped her complete everything else. Then both of them collapsed onto their bed.

“ I never wanna do that again. “ She laughed, rolling on her side to face Five, “ But we both know, you’ll do it next year. “ He smiled rolling over to face Y/n.

“ Yes I know but let me live in the moment. “ She smiled snuggling into his chest, “ Okay. “ He laughed as he pulled her close to his body.

“ You did a phenomenal job though, just like usual love. “ He complimented, pulling back to kiss her lips gently, “ Thank you. “ She responded after pulling away from his lips.

“ Anytime love, anytime. “ He smiled.

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odetolocksmiths · 4 years ago

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“Make that Three”

A/N: I’m back! It got soooo busy with school and everything and it was causing so much stress so I set this blog aside for a little while. While going through my drafts yesterday, I saw this story and I really liked it. My original author’s note said I was so, so sorry because I thought it was bad? But coming back, I’ve come to the realization that I actually like this story ha! Anyway, if you’re still reading this author’s note, I hope things are going well in your life, and if they are currently not; I am sending out my thoughts and positive energy for you. My dm’s are always open <3 Enjoy reading :) xo Xuck

Summary: A few weeks before Molly decided it was time to bring the family back together, you run into George. After a special afternoon while spending some time with him, you show up at the ‘family sleepover’ holding a big secret.

Warnings: Fluff, mentions of pregnancy and a piece of art written with some grammar mistakes

"Y/N, my dear! How are you doing?” Molly asks while coming at you with her arms open wide, inviting you into a cuddle. You laugh and hug her back.

“Hi, I’m doing good. How about you?” You answer while unwrapping your arms. Molly lifts her hand, places a hand on your cheek, and smiles. “Now that you are here, I’m doing great!”

“I’ve missed you all so much! Come, come. Let’s get you something to drink.” Molly’s hand grabs your wrist and before you know it, you sit at the kitchen table with a cup of hot cocoa in your hand. You look around the kitchen and you see that practically nothing has changed, everything was in the place where it belonged. You let your eyes roam over the wall of photographs, every member of the family was on the wall multiple times. There were photo’s of all the Weasley children while they were still young, photo’s of everyone celebrating Christmas, and photographs of the children with their significant others.

You giggle at the photograph of Ron and Hermione on their wedding day, remembering the prank the twins had pulled on Ron. Fred and George had stolen his wedding suit and had it hidden somewhere very obvious. You have never seen Ron so stressed. Yeah okay, normally he is pretty stressed already, but this day topped it. Eventually, everything turned out to be fine.

You let your eyes roam the pictures again, now searching for the photographs with you in it. There were a lot because ever since you came home with Fred and George that one holiday, you were a part of the family and Molly saw you as one of her own. You let your eyes linger on the photograph of you and George longer than the others, your heart fasting up its pace and forming a small smile. It has been a couple of weeks since you last ran into him and things took an unexpected turn. It was a night of secret confessions, stolen glances, and lingering touches. The things that happened that one night, turned into a big, little secret no one knew of.

Molly intruded your thoughts as she began saying that it shouldn’t be long before the others are here. “It’s been a long time since everyone was home at the same time!”

You laugh at her and before you get the chance to answer, the front door opens and reveals the sounds of the voices from the rest. Everyone planned to show up at the same time, bombing the silence in the burrow.

“Y/N/N!” Hermione screamed, flinging herself into your arms. “Dear Godric, I missed you soooooo much.” She says and you giggle. “Hi ‘Mione, how are you doing?”

It took a good ten minutes taking the time to greet every member of the family minus three. Fred and George still had to work in the shop that day, so when the shop is closed they could come over with Fred’s significant other, Angelina.

Everyone is taking their places at the dinner table, as it is the best place for everyone to be catching up at the same time. There are so many stories to be told, some needing to be told multiple times because the others got into a conversation of their own. No one got a hold of the time and before you know it, a couple of hours have passed.

The front door slams open once again, revealing the last three persons missing at the table. Fred and Angelina took the first steps into the house. “Good evening my dearest family! How are you all doing?” Fred practically screams with a huge grin on his face. The whole family flew to the new people, hugging them and saying their greetings.

You were one of the last to greet Fred and Angelina, telling them your hi’s and how happy you are to be seeing them. Last but not least, you were the last to greet George. You e/c eyes catching his deep brown ones, showing a sparkle. He smiles softly and wraps his arms around your waist, while you throw yours around his neck. “Godric, I’ve missed you so much.” He mumbles and presses a secret kiss in the crook of your neck. With one last squeeze on your hips, he releases you and walks into the kitchen, ignoring the funny look on Fred’s face.

You and George were not official. There was in no way you could say you both were dating and it got a bit on your nerves right now. Everyone was done with eating and were now having a conversation - the millionth time today. You looked around the table and your gaze lingered around George’s. He was already looking at you. His mouth made the slightest smile which made you blush. It took everything in your strength not to fly over the table, grab George by his tie and kiss him on the mouth. You sigh and took another sip of your seventh cup of hot cocoa. Normally you wouldn’t have this much chocolate to eat, nevermind to drink, but lately you were craving it more and more. You knew why, it was a secret no one else knew so far.

Suddenly Molly gasped, flinging her hand over her mouth and looked surprised. Everyone stopped talking and stared at her. “Oh my, I’m so sorry!” She looks around, setting her eyes on Arthur. “I have made a mistake with counting the beds! We are missing one bed.” She puts her head in her hands and takes a deep sigh.

“It’s okay honey, we’ll figure it out.” Arthur says, putting his hand on Molly’s back.

“Well one of us has to sleep on the couch then.” Fred jokes and Ron laughs.

“I’ll sleep on the couch.” You say and look Molly in her eyes. “No, no. You won’t have to sleep on the couch.” She mumbles and pulls her arm around you.

“No Molly, it is okay. I don’t mind sleeping on the couch, I’ve grown to love it, to be honest.” You grin and take another sip of your hot cacao.

It's true, you have grown fond of the couch. You stopped numbering the moments you fell asleep on it, finding yourself waking up with a blanket wrapped around your body.

“Are you sure?” Molly asks and you nod. “Don’t worry, as long as I have my blanket and pillow, I can sleep everywhere.” You wink and she laughs.

It’s two o clock in the morning. Everyone went to their beds over two hours ago, leaving you in the living room with a blanket and a pillow. Molly has asked you a dozen times if you really didn’t mind and after practically sending Molly upstairs, she eventually accepted your answer. Right now you were sitting on the couch, the blanket wrapped around you while reading your book when you heard footsteps behind you.

“You really shouldn’t be sleeping on the couch. Take my bed, please.” The voice of George sounded. He came to sit next to you. “And sleep with Fred and Angelina in one room? No thanks.” You giggled and put your book down.

George opened his arms, inviting you into a cuddle which you gladly accepted. You put your head against his chest while folding your arms around his waist.

“I missed you, you know.” George whispered into your hair, placing a kiss on top of your head. You felt your face heating up, happy he couldn't see you blushing. "I hate that we haven't talked since that night."

"I know, me too." You mumble, pressing your face more into George's chest. "Do you really meant what you say back then?" You ask.

"Yes, I do." George puts his finger under your chin and lifts it so you have to look him into his eyes. "I want to continue this. What we have." He places a kiss on your mouth. Before you could answer his kiss, he has removed his lips already.

"I want that too." You smile at him. He grins and pulls you closer.

"Mom's going to ask us tomorrow if we all want to come along on vacation this summer. Should I say she has to reserve two places? You and me?" George asks, wrapping a string of your h/c hair around his finger.

"Make that three." You whisper, looking into his eyes. You see his eyebrows turn into a confused state.

"What did you say?"

"Make that three. Three places." You repeat and you grab his hand and place it on your belly. "I meant to tell you tomorrow when I saw the chance of getting you alone but here we are." You throw him a soft smile. Scared of his reaction, you distance yourself from him and look into the fireplace.

"Are you serious?" His voice sounds hoarse. All you can do is nod. "Checked it multiple times, different methods. All came back positive." You mumble, still not looking towards George.

"Look at me." Was all he said, but you didn't hear him. "Love, could you please look at me?" He asked.

When you turned your head, all you could see was George with one of the biggest smiles you have ever received from him. He grabbed your face and placed a kiss on your nose. Then one followed onto your forehead, both your cheeks and eventually he left one on your mouth.

"I love you so fucking much.”

#george/reader #george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley fluff #george weasley imagine #harry potter universe #george weasley / you #Dad!George #Dad!George Weasley #George Weasley pregnancy

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nothingtolosebutweight · 3 years ago

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Don't turn your back on me - 5. One Step Closer

| Pairing: Heahmund x Ivar

| Words: ~8400 [AO3] - Masterpost

| Warnings: Hurt & Fluff, Mention of Addiction and (Domestic) Violence, Cheesiness

I had trouble with writing this time, cause I - as an absolute overthinker - was so torn between wanting to give them both another chance with one another and the fear that someone who was/is abused would see this positive outcome as a kind of hope that their situation might get better if they just endure it a bit longer and/or give their abuser chance after chance to change -> it won’t happen. Therefore, let this be the disclaimer that this story is far from reality. Like @heavenlymorals pointed out right at the beginning: “if your partner hits you, make sure it is the first and last time because under no circumstances should you result to physical violence against your significant other.” Know your worth and seek help if you don’t get out on your own. Don’t waste your love on someone who doesn’t value you!

| Taggies: @jackson–t ♥ @youbloodymadgenius @istorkyou @dini73

@vaire-gwir thank you so much for once again listening to my whining and taking the time to proofread. Your ass-kickings are the best.

Exhausted to the bone. That perfectly described his condition after such a long and, above all, eventful day. The sleepless night Ivar had the day before only added to this. Until now, the adrenaline in him had ensured that he hadn't noticed and completely ignored the leaden fatigue. Since he had taken the risk of ringing the bell, time had passed so quickly that he had not taken a break to process everything that had happened since then. His body had been in a kind of alert state ever since.

The consequences made themselves felt with full force as soon as Ivar settled down on the couch. After Heahmund had brought him a pillow and a blanket and had wished him a good night - without kissing him gently on the forehead or tip of the nose, as he used to do at the time - his eyes instantly felt shut. His limbs felt heavy with fatigue, and Ivar wished for nothing more than to slip quickly into a restful sleep.

However, he should have known better. Finding sleep easily was not something that had been granted to him during the last year. Even in his current state. Unlike his body, his brain had no intention of giving him the rest he now desperately needed. Inside, Ivar still had the feeling of being electrified. His train of thoughts refused to shut down. Now that he could fully concentrate on them again and nothing distracted him from losing himself in them, his thoughts did their usual thing. They haunted him, held him tightly in their grip and showed him, again and again, the same fragments of the day that he began to question.

It was as if he were sitting on an express train racing past a large screen on which today's particularly momentous events were being played. His inner eyes held the images for only a fraction of a second. It was impossible to hold on to individual memories for longer. The scenery changed too quickly in his mind's eye, presenting him with a new situation that kept him awake and made him wonder if he had acted correctly. The images changed too quickly for him to feast on them, but not too quickly for him to feel ashamed of certain of his actions and words.

Had his apology been adequate? Now he thought of so many more things that would have been so much more important to say. Things he should have said to Heahmund to make his change more evident. Why had he become so comfortable in smalltalk later, instead of continuing to talk about the things that were really bothering him? Had he wasted the time Heahmund had allowed him to be in his presence talking about nonsense?

It had felt so good, so familiar. Talking about series, food, and all those unimportant little things had been kind of surreal, but it had broken the initial heaviness between them, had created a fraction of normalcy. For Ivar, it had brought some assurance that their connection was still there, that they were still comfortable around each other.

Heahmund had already appeared level-headed after the first shock, had presented his so character-typical calmness to the outside. Ivar was sure that deep inside he had felt differently. He had noticed the difference only later when Heahmund really had started to loosen up during their shallow conversation. His posture had changed along with it, his facial expressions had become more natural and even his laughter came more from the heart and not just from nervous overacting.

With every gesture, every facial expression that he had seen and that was so dear to him, Ivar had been painfully reminded of how much he missed it all. His inner image of Heahmund had faded over the months, blurred at the edges, and even the pictures that remained could only ever represent fragments of his whole being.

But now that he was here, he could once again savor that infectious smile, admire the little smirks that added something mischievous to him. Ivar could enjoy again the warmth in Heahmund's eyes, take pleasure even in such trifles as a raised brow, because these were all gestures that defined the man who ruled his mind and which he wanted to see again every day.

It made him anxious that he might have squandered this opportunity again by not making the best use of his time. With all the doubts gnawing at him, it was even harder to turn his head off.

Frustrated, Ivar turned to the other side, trying to drift off to sleep in this new position. He began to feel restless in a well-known but not so good way.

The memory of the hug made its way forward into his consciousness. Ivar wondered if he had gone one step too far with it? If he had wanted too much too quickly? The way he saw it now, in retrospective, he had literally forced himself on Heahmund. It wasn't that he regretted it now. He had enjoyed the closeness far too much for that and rather wished the embrace had lasted longer. Nevertheless, Ivar was a little ashamed of this act of overstepping the bounds and he hoped that Heahmund was not secretly angry with him for it. After all, he had reacted positively to it, but perhaps only outwardly. Ivar wasn't so sure and again found a reason to get lost in his worries and to fuel his thoughts further.

Annoyed, he rolled back onto the side on which he had been lying just two minutes ago and exhaled with an audible sigh. It was maddening. The fact that he was unable to fall asleep was beginning to make Ivar furious inside.

To get rid of his inner tension, Ivar punched the backrest next to him and turned around once more shortly afterward, hoping that the renewed change of position was finally the right one, promising sleep.

To make himself more comfortable, Ivar pulled the blanket up to his nose and snuggled deeper into the cushion. His right arm slid under the pillow while he let the other dangle slightly over the couch. Unconsciously, his fingers stroked over the small rug which lay in front of the sofa. In a strange way, this calmed his thoughts. By feeling the fabric, he had something else, something monotonous, to focus on. It stopped his thoughts to drift into another spiral.

Sleep was waiting around the corner and Ivar finally started to doze off.

Out of nowhere, something touched his arm. Something fluffy. It tickled him slightly, and in his already half-asleep state, Ivar just shook his hand in a defensive manner, unwilling to react further to this sudden distraction. His usually sharp mind failed him, processing the situation too slowly, and by the time it dawned on him who might be sneaking up on him, it was already too late. He was just about to pull his arm away in one swift movement - to bring it to safety - when Ivar felt an explosion of pain spreading through that very arm, caused by sharp claws and teeth breaking through his skin and penetrating his flesh.

The pain and shock made him cry out equally. In his panic of another attack, Ivar shot up into a sitting position, throwing the blanket off of him in the process. Immediately he heard the sound of breaking glass and knew right away that he had probably knocked over the glass of water that Heahmund had placed on the coffee table for him. A gesture that had made him smile.

A hissing sound in the immediate vicinity made Ivar carelessly fumble for his cell phone, which he remembered must be somewhere on the table. He was in a hurry to find it before Grace would eat him alive. Ivar had no doubt that this was her aim. He needed a light source to see where she was, to be able to defend himself. Only when he felt a new sharp pain - this time in his fingers, did he realize that it had been a stupid idea to fumble around wildly right there, where glass shards were probably lying.

"Fuck. Damn it. You've got to be kidding me," Ivar cursed aloud, ignoring that Heahmund might already be asleep. He was so annoyed that he couldn't hold back the wave of frustration that was rushing to the surface with crushing force.

The area around the scratches burned like hell. The place where Grace had bitten him was throbbing. Ivar felt the wetness of the blood running down his fingers. It was as if pure chaos had gathered around him, just waiting to unleash the next disaster on him as soon as he would make another move.

Since he didn't want any blood stains to fall on the couch or carpet, Ivar quickly pulled his shirt over his head and wrapped it around his hand and the lower part of his arm. Thus protected and first treated, he made another attempt to find his cell phone, continuing to curse under his breath, using all the swear words that would make his mother cross herself.

His cell phone remained hidden, but his anger over the situation did not. This showed clearly when Ivar hit the tabletop with the palm of his hand, giving vent to his frustration. It had been like some kind of reflex, which he instantly regretted as he hissed in pain and resignedly let himself sink back onto the couch. He was done.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Now using his uninjured hand, he punched the pillow next to him several times to emphasize his words.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a source of light. The bedroom door, which had previously been open only a crack, was now completely open, allowing light from the bedroom to flood into the living room. Turning his head, he also became aware of the dark silhouette that was pausing in the doorway.

Ivar pulled his injured arm to his chest and held it with the other. Nausea suddenly overcame him. If his mind had been half asleep a moment ago, making one wrong decision after another, it was now sharp again. There was no doubt about who was standing in the doorway. There was only one answer. Likewise, it was clear to him why Heahmund hesitated. Why he didn't approach him to see what had caused the commotion.

Ivar imagined what Heahmund must be thinking at that moment. How long had he been standing there? How did the scene have to look to him? The thought that his beloved might felt taken back to former days, when such a situation would have ended in a violent quarrel, and therefore hesitated to approach, pained him deeply.

"You don't have to worry," Ivar said softly, adding never again in his mind. It was hard to have to say such words, to have to say them at all, to take the worry away from the person who had suffered most from his past outbursts.

Disappointment in himself was one of the most predominant feelings Ivar felt at the moment. He had been so eager to be exemplary. Not to cause Heahmund any trouble. The spilled water that by now was surely dripping onto the carpet, the broken glass and its shards on the table, the bloodstains he had surely left behind. All these were anything but the actions of a low-maintenance guest. That on top of that he had allowed and displayed his anger made him even more annoyed with himself. Together with his exhaustion, which made him irritable anyway, all this was not a good mix, and Ivar felt the familiar signs of inner rage intensifying.

He was at a point that needed to be counteracted.

His inner turmoil was nowhere near as extreme as it had often been in the past. He was miles away from that. Nevertheless, Ivar didn't want to let himself go any further. When the room was suddenly bathed in bright light, Ivar reflexively squinted his eyes shut and used a couple of seconds to take a few deep breaths and remind himself of all he had already achieved. In the last 24 hours alone, he had come so far, was so close to his goal. He didn't want to destroy that now.

With a pained smile, Ivar looked toward the bedroom and saw that Heahmund had awakened from his torpor and was coming toward him.

"I'm sorry if I've made you uncomfortable. It may seem like I'm losing myself right now, but I swear that's not the case. I'm angry... irritated. Yes. But it's not like it has been in the past. I promise," Ivar reaffirmed to Heahmund, trying to sound as calm as possible and hiding the tremble in his voice.

It wasn't that the mild storm inside him had completely disappeared by taking a few deep breaths. No. Ivar still felt the heat, the inner tingling that he would like to let out with screams, curses, or physical impulses, but by looking at Heahmund, he simultaneously faced the reason why he had worked so hard to change his behavior in the first place. He loved this man, so incredibly fierce. As he had said to himself just a few moments ago, never again did he want to hurt him, physically as well as emotionally. That, he swore to himself anew. On the contrary, he wanted to be the reason for his laughter, joy and bliss. That was what he longed for, what kind of partner he wanted to be if he ever got the chance to become one again.

“I'm just so overtired that I'm really frustrated and annoyed because I couldn't fall asleep for ages and when I finally did, Grace came and bit me. Don't ask me what I did wrong. I don't know. She was suddenly just there, out of nowhere, and with every move I made since then, I've only caused more chaos, and it has made me mad at myself. I feel bad because I haven't even been here for a whole day and everything is already slipping out of my hands again. I'm so sorry for the trouble, Heahmund,” Ivar tried to articulate the feelings that were prevailing inside him. He had learned from therapy that it wasn't so bad to let others know why he was upset. Besides, he could usually calm himself down in the process of talking about it, because it often made him realize what the actual trigger had been.

During his therapy sessions, he had often been ashamed to admit his inner conflicts or share them with another person. It was not that he believed he had to keep them secret at all costs, that they were something abhorrent or extraordinary. Often the reasons for his inner turmoil were rather banal, nothing that he had to hide. Still, it felt strange to share such intimate things with someone.

Not so with Heahmund. With him, it felt different. Ivar knew that he could trust him, that he could show himself vulnerable in his presence. Who else, if not him, would be the person with whom he wanted to share his innermost, his weaknesses.

As he spoke, he kept his gaze fixed on Heahmund, who walked towards him and came to a stop in front of the couch. Ivar saw his gaze slip to the shards on the table for a brief moment before looking back at him, glancing quickly at his naked torso, unconsciously licking his lips in a nervous gesture, and then glancing at the injured hand still wrapped in the shirt.

"It really has been a long and tiring day, huh? But please don't waste a thought worrying about the glass. It's just water and a worthless object, but what about you? You're hurt. Let me take a look," With concern in his eyes, he knelt in front of Ivar, extended his hand and waited until the injured arm was placed in it. He trusted him, and above all, he believed him to be in control of the situation. Heahmund had noticed that the current situation was different from previous ones. He heard it in Ivar's voice, saw it in his body language. The Ivar who was now sitting in front of him was not the one who would lash out in blind rage at any moment. Still, it had been strange for him at first to see him swearing loudly and hitting the pillow. It had awakened memories that he would have liked to leave behind.

"Oh, Grace got you good, huh? I apologize on her behalf,” Heahmund scanned over the deep scratches, looked at the small holes caused by sharp teeth from which new blood kept oozing that he regularly dabbed away with the shirt.

Ivar nodded in agreement. “Yeah. She probably used to be in the military, right? She seems to have a perfect mastery of short and effective attacks, Smiling agonizingly, he watched how his arm was examined. Ivar was touched by the care Hehamund showed in order to avoid hurting him. “I really don't know what I did to piss her off. She just suddenly appeared and then boom, I got attacked. Mary specifically told me to be wary of your roommate, but I idiot thought you were...," in a new relationship, Ivar wanted to say, but stopped himself, realizing that this was a topic he didn't want to talk about right now.

Heahmund beat him with a counter-question anyway. "Mary? Do you mean my cousin Mary? What do you have to do with her?"

Ivar remained silent. He only looked at Heahmund with wide eyes, which now probably seemed even bluer, since all color had drained from his face in shock. He had promised Mary not to say anything about her involvement, only to break that promise directly within a day.

"Maybe we'll save this conversation for tomorrow, huh?" Heahmund didn't want to force an answer right now, which was in fact very obvious. Heahmund did not want to force an answer now, which was obvious anyway. It was also clear to see that Ivar was once again annoyed with himself. Heahmund didn't want to deepen this frustration. “Hey, isn't it better if I know she was involved than that I'd have to assume you're a pretty creepy and skillful stalker, huh?"

“Yeah, maybe it is.”

“See! Therefore, there is no need to look at me with such a pout,” With a gentle smile on his lips, Heahmund let his gaze slide back to the injuries. "But we should fix you up now and then really go to sleep."

"Oh, no, I'll be fine. Please don't bother. You're tired, too, aren't you?"

"Sure, but cat bites and scratches can be very dangerous and can easily become infected. So we have to be careful. Therefore, let's quickly head to the bathroom so I can tend to your wounds. It seems there's a small splinter in your index finger we need to get out, too," As he said this, Heahmund pulled the injured hand closer to him and gently pressed on said fingertip to check how deep the injury went.

Ivar bent his head forward so that he almost bumped into Heahmund's and looked at his finger as well. “I think you are right. But I meant it if you want to go to sleep, go ahead and do that. Just tell me where everything is and I'll do it myself."

Heahmund had to swallow when he looked up. Ivar was so close that the tips of their noses almost touched. He remained silent for a moment, just looked him in the eyes, before he broke free from his stare and stood up. "Don't be stupid and let me help you before you accidentally amputate your arm while trying to do it yourself."

"Career-wise, that would be a bad thing, so I guess I should be doubly grateful to you for taking care of me," Ivar stood up as well and made his way to the bathroom without further protest.

Ivar walked ahead, wearing only his underwear, and without Heahmund really wanting it, his eyes automatically turned to the well-displayed butt of the boy in front of him. Immediately after realizing what he was doing, Heahmund turned his gaze back to the table. Inwardly, he shook his head at himself, but who was he to resist such a charming sight.

“Career-wise? What do you mean by that?” He asked, raising his voice a bit so Ivar could still hear him for he had waited a few more seconds to follow him, making sure that his guest had already disappeared into the bathroom so he wouldn’t be tempted again. A year ago, Ivar had been in the middle of his studies to become a successful businessman, and Heahmund was sure he still had two more years until graduation. Besides, he wouldn't necessarily need his arm to run a business, so he wondered what exactly Ivar meant by that, what might be new about him.

"Basically, I was just joking, but maybe there was also a bit of hope speaking out of me," Ivar sat down on the edge of the tub and waited until Heahmund came into the bathroom as well, looking at him even more confused. Therefore, Ivar explained a little more while his arm was carefully dabbed with a damp cloth. “I've learned to play the piano in the meantime, and my family says I'm pretty good at it. So sometimes I toy with the idea of uploading something one day...to get rich overnight, you know. I'm not sure yet though. It's also quite possible that my family is lying and just puts up with my music because they know it benefits me.”

“The piano? Really? Interesting. I would have bet that you would lean more towards something like drums or something more…”

“Aggressive?” Ivar completed the sentence in a questioning tone. Despite the slight pain caused by the dabbing of the wounds and his exhaustion, he enjoyed the closeness, the gentle touches, and the care with which he was treated.

"In a way, yes," Heahmund said as he reached for the tweezer to pull the splinter from Ivar's finger. He was careful to make it as painless as possible and stopped as soon as Ivar hissed in pain. "But more to blow off steam. After all, I've told you so many times that you need an outlet for your anger. So why not do it in a creative way?"

"I get what you mean,” Ivar said, smiling softly. “And don't worry. You don’t have to weigh your words. Just phrase it like it is. It fits my temper, right? And you are right, maybe I should try drumming, too, but for now, I'm happy with torturing the piano.” As Heahmund began to disinfect his wounds, Ivar tried several times to pull his hand back. It burned like hell, but Heahmund showed no mercy and only grabbed him tighter right above the elbow to keep him close.

"I'm sorry, I'd like to hear you play sometime, so I want to be extra careful about disinfecting the wounds," A gentle smile spread around his lips. Although it had surprised him at first, it somehow also made sense that Ivar was so drawn to the piano.

Heahmund recalled a classical concert he had attended years ago and how fascinated he had been by the instrument's versatility.

One could play soft tones, slow ballads full of pleasant and calm sounds that soothed the soul and put one in a state of ease, as if being rocked by a gentle wave on the open sea. Just as Ivar could be. Like right now. Speaking calmly, in a soft voice so pleasant that Heahmund could have listened to him for hours. Despite his obvious tiredness, a broad and gentle smile had settled on Ivar's face, testifying to the love he had for his new hobby. It warmed Heahmund's heart to see him like this.

He had met him like that back then. His sweet Ivar. He had a gentle side, youthful playfulness, and above all, a soft heart that he tried to protect. He had fallen in love with this side of him then, it was the one that had made him stay for so long. It was precisely this version of Ivar that now sat before him, making it difficult for Heahmund not to overstep his own boundaries.

However, it was also possible to press the piano keys harder in order to elicit powerful, energetic tones from them. When played quickly and energetically, the once calm tones turn into hectic, chaotic passages. The kind that makes a person feel uneasy, that can create an anxious tension. These sounds came close to a thunderstorm raining down on oneself. Merciless, cold and violent. One didn't escape this maelstrom of temperament without seeking shelter. It was much the same with Ivar. As quickly as one could change the mood on the piano with different keystrokes, it sometimes happened with him at the slightest remark or inconvenience. One wrong approach and the harmony was gone, the mood suddenly threatening. Oppressive.

After Heahmund had moved on to the final steps and had stuck plasters around two fingers and wrapped a bandage around the hand and forearm, he packed his first aid kit back into the drawer. Ivar had meanwhile continued to talk about his music and Heahmund was genuinely eager to get a sample as soon as possible. They agreed that he would get one the following day, as it was more important that they both finally got back to bed now.

"You should sleep in my bed. I'll close the door and bring Grace into the living room with me. Then you will be safe from further attack," Heahmund could tell that Ivar wanted to protest. He knew him. From the way his lips twitched and his eyes filled with concern, he could tell he was uncomfortable with this suggestion. Heahmund would have bet that he would say something like "I don't want to be a burden to you" or "I don't want to cause you any inconvenience," so he interrupted him before Ivar could say anything along those lines. "No, I don't want to hear any complaints. The only thing I want to hear from you is your peaceful snoring."

Of course, it didn't go entirely without backtalk, but Ivar conceded defeat and merely teased back about the snoring. He was just too tired to argue, and a secured room with a soft bed, where Heahmund himself had been lying about half an hour ago, wasn't the worst option after all.

Silence and darkness settled over the apartment again. Heahmund had made himself comfortable on the couch in the living room after quickly cleaning up the broken pieces from the table. He didn't want to risk Grace hurting herself, too. She was immediately at his side as soon as he lay down. Lovingly rubbing her head against him, longing for attention.

“You little devil,” Heahmund muttered, while he petted her little head. “We don’t hurt people that are dear to us, to me,” he added quieter in a faint whisper. Nevertheless, he couldn’t be mad at her, knowing too well that she was in distress as well due to an unknown person in her realm.

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The vibration of a cell phone jolted Heahmund out of his thoughts. A glance at the coffee table confirmed his suspicions. It wasn't his own, but Ivar's that was once again demanding attention. The sound broke the otherwise prevailing silence in the apartment for the fourth time since he had been awakened by the same noise three hours ago.

A glance at the screen revealed that it was Ivar's mother, just like all the other times before. She was persistent. It took a while for the device to go silent again, but Heahmund didn't avert his gaze. He waited until the call screen disappeared so he could catch a brief glimpse of the background image before the display went black.

Just like the times before, a smile crept onto his face when he saw the picture that Ivar was still using as a background image. It was a rather sad and nostalgic smile because Heahmund had to think back to the time when this picture had been taken. It had been a happy day. Full of laughter, kisses, gentle touches, and all kinds of affection. It was the classic couple picture. He stood behind Ivar and had his arms wrapped tightly around him. He was about to give him a kiss on the cheek, but his eyes were directed at the camera. They were both smiling blissfully, and if he remembered correctly, Ivar's older brother Hvitserk had taken the photo and had made mocking sounds of vomiting afterward to emphasize, how sick their display of love had made him.

Giving in to an impulse, Heahmund reached for the cell phone, activated the screen again, and thus brought back the picture. With their eyes shining with joy and the laugh lines on their faces, it was clear to see how happy they had once been together. He couldn't deny that he missed those times. He had never again experienced such love that had reached into his soul. Let alone had he felt that kind of inner happiness again.

A glance at the clock just before the display went black again showed that it was already shortly after midday. And yet there was still no sound coming from the bedroom. It was a little unusual for Ivar to be sleeping for so long. Back when they were a couple, Heahmund was rarely the first one awake, but given the circumstances and the weariness his guest had shown after the little accident in the earlier morning hours, he concluded that Ivar probably needed the extra hours of sleep.

If Ivar's mother wouldn't be so persistent, and thus wouldn't make Heahmund feel that she was sick with worry, he would let Ivar sleep even longer. But since he didn't know if she knew where her son was, and he definitely didn't want to answer the phone himself, he decided it was time to wake him up. The risk of Aslaug reporting her beloved son missing was too great, considering how overprotective she could be.

It was also time to escape his own uncertainty, because his own thoughts had constantly circled around the same questions during the last few hours. His musings about how things would now go on between them, how they should deal with each other, and how long Ivar even wanted to stay in the first place, failed to find answers when he gnawed on them alone.

When Heahmund entered his bedroom, he paused for a moment to take in the sight. His heart instantly filled with warmth and a gentle smile settled on his features.

Ivar was still fast asleep, snuggled up to his nose in the blanket. He had pressed the pillow tightly against himself and hugged it with both arms as if it were a big teddy bear. His face was relaxed and framed by his long hair. He looked peaceful, snoring softly as if his nose was stuffy. There was something cute and innocent about the way Ivar lay there. Something that made Heahmund want to lie down next to him, to hold him as close to his heart as he still was on an emotional level. He felt the need to give him warmth and a sense of security that Ivar had needed so often during his difficult times.

As happened several times yesterday, old feelings made their way back to the surface. Creepingly slow, but no longer deniable. Heahmund felt the familiar tingling in his stomach as he looked at Ivar, and the yearning for closeness grew within him, making his fingers tremble slightly. He wanted to feel him, to brush the hair from his face, to have an excuse to touch him.

His love wasn't extinguished. He had noticed many small gestures from Ivar the previous day that had reminded him why he had fallen in love with him in the first place. There was also no denying that their deep bond was still alive, swimming beneath the icy surface, waiting for the warmth of their love to melt the thick layer that had created that painful distance.

Heahmund wasn't too surprised by this realization. It wasn't as if he had been convinced even once during the last few months that he had actually left everything behind. The ongoing pain from the separation had already made him realize that he couldn't just turn off the love he harbored. He couldn't run away from it, and since yesterday, since he had overcome the first shock and something like normality had set in between them - unbelievably fast - he had already sensed that it would be difficult to keep his distance, to stay reasonable.

He was just surprised and equally concerned at how quickly he seemed to forget why he had decided to break up back then. It had taken only an apology and a few pleasant hours together, and already he was standing in front of Ivar thinking how nice it would be to wake him up with kisses and caresses.

It was embarrassing that he was so weak.

The problem was that he was an addict. He knew what made him feel good, and he longed to get it back in his life. Ivar was just another addiction for him. Just as the alcohol had made him forget the bad things, the presence of his sweet Ivar had the same effect on him. That's why Heahmund began to wonder if it had really been that bad at the time or if he had just overreacted a year ago?

His addictive side wanted to tempt him to indulge in his cravings once again, to forget the bad sides and give himself over completely to his urges. But that's how it is with addictive substances. You take them, feel better for a short time, only to feel more miserable than before when the much-needed high wears off. Heahmund had experienced this far too often to give in too lightly to the whispers in his head. He knew better - sometimes, the present moment not included.

With a deep sigh, Heahmund squatted down next to the head of the bed. For a brief second his gaze rested on the slightly parted lips that had given him the most tender and sensual kisses, but over which had also come words that had deeply hurt him. The temptation to trace them with his fingertips was great, but Heahmund thought better of it and instead just gently stroked the hair from Ivar's face. This way he could create closeness without making it too awkward.

"Hey sleepyhead, it's time to wake up," he tried it in a gentle tone, barely more than a whisper. Waking Ivar abruptly from his sleep wasn’t Heahmund's intention. With the back of his index finger, he also stroked Ivar's cheek several times, trying to get through to him with additional physical contact.

When that didn't help, Heahmund began to pull the blanket away from Ivar’s face a bit. At least he received a low grumble in response. Smiling at the cuteness, Heahmund let his hand slide back to the face, placed his palm on the jaw and base of the neck, and simply stroked his thumb along Ivar's cheek. The sight was so peaceful that he just couldn't stop touching Ivar tenderly, even if he could slap himself for it in the next moment. Namely, when Ivar slowly opened his eyes and looked at him in confusion, wondering for sure where he was or if he was still dreaming.

Heahmund paused in his movement as a hand placed itself on his and Ivar nestled into his palm, closing his eyes again and murmuring his name while he let out a blissful sigh. The innocence of this gesture made Heahmund forget the self-accusing thoughts. He was aware that he should pull his hand away, that what he was doing was not fair. Still, he allowed Ivar a moment longer to gently transition into wakefulness before he slowly withdrew his hand and reached for the bedspread to pull it further down. Ivar hadn't bothered to put on another shirt, so Heahmund exposed more and more bare skin while doing so.

Ivar wasn’t a big fan of this action and tried to get his heat source back, but Heahmund didn't allow it. "Nope. It's really time for you to get your ass out of my bed. Your mom has called several times already. You better call her back real soon."

"Hmm, what time is it?" Tired, Ivar rubbed his eyes, looked sleepily at Heahmund, and stretched with loud groans as if his whole body was rusty.

“It's almost 1 pm.”

"You're kidding?" With eyes wide in disbelief, Ivar stared at Heahmund, taking his amused shake of the head as confirmation that he wasn't. "Why didn't you wake me up earlier?"

"It seemed like you needed a good rest," Before standing up again, Heahmund let his hand glide once briefly over Ivar's hair to satisfy his need for contact one more time. To regain his composure, he turned around and walked to his closet, getting some fresh clothes out. "I'm going to take a shower and you better call your mom back."

After making sure that Ivar was at least in the process of getting up, Heahmund left the room.

The shower was refreshing. Heahmund felt clean not only physically but also mentally. He had washed off the dirt. Especially the one that had crept into his thoughts as soon as he had pulled down the covers. Like yesterday, the sight of Ivar's half-naked body hadn't left him unaffected.

As he stepped out of the bathroom into his small hallway, Heahmund heard Ivar still talking. At first, he thought he was still speaking with his mother, so he sneaked into the living room as not to disturb them. Only when he entered the room did he notice that Ivar was no longer on the phone, but talking to Grace. She was sitting on the kitchen counter, eyeing him suspiciously with her ears tilted back a little, her eyes as big as if she were a stoner.

"You don't have to worry. I'm not angry with you. I know how hard it can be not to let the anger inside win. I don't know why I had upset you in the first place, but somehow I did, and I'm sorry for whatever I may have done. I understand that we might have had a rough start, but let me tell you, little fluffball...," A hiss interrupted him as Ivar tried to take a step to the side to grab something that Heahmund couldn't make out in his position. He was about to intervene, but Ivar paused in his movement, stood still again, and therefore gave Grace no more reason to defend herself. "It's all right. You don't have to pretend to be tough. Are you scared? Is that why you're so grumpy? To compensate for your fear? Like I was going to say, let me give you the advice that this behavior won't get you anywhere."

Heahmund couldn't suppress his amused snort. It made Ivar pause in his talking, and he turned around carefully. He wasn't going to make the mistake of letting Grace out of his sight.

"I don't think she gives a damn about your advice. If you want to bribe her, try treats." In order for Ivar to put this into practice right away, Heahmund went to the cupboard where he kept the cat snacks and reached for the ones Grace liked best. Her posture had already changed abruptly for the better with his approach; now, with the coveted bag within reach, she became even more trusting and less defensive.

"I want to be loved for the person I am, not because I have stinky meat sticks, but okay, give me some if this will do the trick," Ivar said, smiling half-heartedly. It was meant as a joke, but they both knew there was a good amount of painful truth in it.

Heahmund, not knowing what he should respond, just mirrored the smile and placed a few of the treats in Ivar's outstretched hand.

"Here, your Grace. Let this be my offering of peace for you," Ivar didn't trust her yet, therefore he put the snacks on the counter at a safe distance. One bandaged hand was enough for him, he didn't want to risk the other one as well.

“Did you call your mother?” Heahmund watched the interaction of the two with watchful eyes, ready to intervene at any time.

"Yes, sir. I did," Ivar said in a mocking tone. Even though he had often teased Heahmund in the past about his seemingly parental bossing, he had missed even that. "I think I was able to calm her down. It's not as if I hadn't told her and Ubbe in a message yesterday, just before boarding the plane, that I was going on a vacation," Of course, he knew that given his fragile condition, he shouldn't be surprised that his mother was worried anyway. Just like that, flying to another country from one moment to the next, was perhaps not indicative of a stable mental state. Where he would go Ivar had kept secret, even now during the phone call he hadn't given any further details. In his opinion, it would have been too obvious otherwise that he was trying to get back together with his ex. He was sure his family would have wanted to talk him out of it, so he had avoided telling anything.

To avoid further inquiries from Heahmund as well, Ivar changed the subject. "Say, do you mind if I take a quick shower, too?" He raised his bandaged hand and showed it to Heahmund, pointing to two spots where blood was visible. "And I think I'll need a new one as well."

"No, of course not. Just take one of the towels from the second drawer from the top. Call me when you're done and.... dressed again and I'll redo the bandaging. We could also go outside right after, have some lunch somewhere. It's way too late for breakfast and I can show you around town a bit if you like.”

"Sounds good to me."

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It wasn't until late afternoon that the two of them entered the apartment together again. Heahmund went straight to the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea. He was already a little later than usual, but he didn't want to completely neglect his routine.

Ivar joined him again. On the one hand, he didn't know what else to do. It wasn't his apartment, and it would be inappropriate in his eyes to go into the living room alone and watch TV, for example. On the other hand, he actively sought closeness to Heahmund, voluntarily not wanting to let him out of his sight at all. So he sat down on the same place at the counter where he had sat yesterday, but now internally much more relaxed.

The day had gone well so far.

They had opted for a small pizzeria and after the meal, as suggested, Heahmund had not let himself be deprived of showing Ivar around town. It was a small and idyllic one, with many beautiful corners suitable for leisurely walks. Typical for February, it had been still quite cold, but the sun, which had showed itself from its best side on this day, had made being outside nevertheless pleasant.

When Heahmund hadn't been busy sharing his knowledge of old buildings and characteristics of the city, they had taken advantage of the relaxed atmosphere to talk about other matters concerning their split.

When they had passed a hotel, Ivar had forced himself and, although he secretly didn't want to leave the apartment, had asked if he should ask for a room there directly. After Heahmund had briefly digested that question and found out that Ivar hadn't booked a return flight yet and therefore didn't know how long he even planned to stay, they had talked openly about how it was kind of strange for both of them, how normal it felt to have each other around again and to be staying in the same place, but that they actually thought it was quite nice. Having made sure that Heahmund felt the same way, Ivar had made no secret of the fact that the hotel was basically only his second priority and that he would be happy to stay despite Gracie's questionable hospitality.

Now, back in the warm apartment, Ivar felt the feeling of happiness growing stronger inside him, additionally warming him from the inside. He watched as Heahmund prepared his tea and smiled to himself. Several times today he had caught himself looking at Heahmund from the side as they had walked side by side, listening to him and thinking to himself how unreal it all seemed. Each time he had touched him briefly, as if by chance, like pulling his sleeve to show him something he wasn't really interested in, just to make sure that it was real.

Nonetheless, Ivar wasn’t so naive to think that magically everything was fine again. Even if it seemed so on the surface, he knew that they still had a lot to work through. To nourish their new bond with a much-needed strong foundation of honesty and trust, Ivar wanted to get something off his chest that had been on his mind since he woke up.

"Heahmund, do you still have any mental capacity to talk about what happened tonight?" They had already worked through some things today and Ivar knew from his own experience that these kinds of conversations were exhausting at some point. Therefore, he wanted to make sure that Heahmund was still willing to listen to him.

"Of course. If something is bothering you, I always want to know."

Ivar smiled gratefully, took another deep breath, and then just let his thoughts out. “I'm still ashamed when I think about what you must have thought when you saw me hitting the couch while cursing like a madman. I still feel bad because I was the reason you didn't feel safe in your own home.”

“Hmm, I was indeed disappointed at first. I think my first thoughts were along the lines that I should have known that everything was still the same, that I had let myself be blinded and I had briefly regretted letting you in, letting you back into my life if I'm honest,” Heahmund could see that these words hurt Ivar, but he wanted to be honest, but still hurried to follow up with something positive. "But I quickly realized I was wrong. Although hitting the couch had seemed aggressive, your whole posture wasn't like that at all. Well, it was dark, but still. Unfortunately, I know how you act and especially gesture when you vent your anger, and it wasn't comparable to your demeanor this morning. We were able to have a normal conversation in that situation as well. That wouldn't have been possible in the past either. I'm not mad at you if you're worried about that."

"And do you still regret letting me in?"

"What do you think, Ivar? We talked about you staying at the hotel for the rest of your stay. Would I have offered you my bed again if I still thought that?" Heahmund tilted his head to the side questioningly and put on a look that made Ivar smile.

"No, you probably wouldn't have."

"Exactly, and do you perhaps want to know which thought prevails now?"

Ivar's gaze fell on the still untouched cup, from which less and less steam was rising. "Maybe that you finally want to drink your beloved tea?"

Heahmund contorted his face into a grin. "That too, but what outweighs everything is the thought that I'm proud of you."

"Proud? Of me?" Confused and touched at the same time, Ivar lowered his eyes and, to distract himself, took a chocolate cookie from the packet that Heahmund had placed on the counter again. After all, tea without cookies was a crime in his household.

"Yes. You've really grown, and no. I don't mean that in a physical way. You're going to therapy, you've gotten the help you need, and you've learned to talk about your worries and, more importantly, your feelings. I had already given up hope that you would change for the better. Because of that, I'm really proud."

"Thank you, Heahmund. It is, after all, to your credit. Without that harsh wake-up call, I wouldn't have recognized the need, and yet maybe it would have been better if I had waited a little longer to come here. I'm already working on my problems, yes, have certainly achieved quite a bit, but perhaps I should have waited until I really have everything under control. That something like this morning just doesn't happen. I should have waited until I am perfect."

"Ivar," Heahmund murmured his name, placing his palm on the back of Ivar's hand, giving it a light squeeze. His gaze rested on his guest, who at first didn't return it. So he waited until blue eyes, in which the insecurity was clearly visible, rose again to look at him. Only then did he continue speaking. "You don't have to be perfect. Nobody is." “You are.”

Although Ivar's cute look and kind words made him smile, Heahmund shook his head, exhaling a chuckle. "No, that's not true. I'm far from perfect and I don't strive to be. Being perfect is boring and who wants that, hmm?"

Ivar let the words run through his head and waited a bit with his answer. "Maybe you're right."

"Not just maybe. It is true." It remained silent between them for a while. Heahmund sipped his now only half-warm tea and reflected on their conversation, while Ivar was still nibbling on his cookie, equally lost in thought.

It was Ivar again who broke the silence by asking another question that had been on his mind, completely catching Heahmund off guard.

"Heahmund. Do you still love me?"

#heavar #heahmund x ivar #ivar x heahmund #vikings #vikings fanfiction #vikings fanfic #ivar the boneless #bishop heahmund #ivar lothbrok #heahmund #modern au #my writing #my stuff

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