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magics-neptunes-things · 2 days ago
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Mockingjay - Part 10
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Hello :)
Once again sorry for the delay, but here is the next chapter for Mockingjay!
Please enjoy ♥
TW : Death or mention of death, blood, injury, suggestive, fight
Chapter before
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After their mutual declaration and several (a lot of) kisses exchanged, Lucy finally falls asleep, exhausted by her fight and her injuries. Ona didn’t ask Lucy what happened exactly during the fight, she keeps her questions for later.
Ona was awake all night, looking at Lucy. Just in case she wakes up with pain or something bad happens. But Lucy’s sleep seems peaceful, she only winces from time to time, while changing position. We must say that maybe the ground of a cave isn’t the most comfortable thing in the world.
Being in that position is strange for Ona, she’s not used to being the strong one. It’s usually Lucy who took care of her during their moments together, not the other way. She likes the idea of Lucy being at ease enough with her for it, but of course Ona hates the fact that Lucy is hurt.
They never heard the cannon, so Ona assumed that Tony must be alive somewhere. He doesn’t seem to have any allies, unless they’re all dead already. But the weapon he had was probably from a sponsor. Ona doesn’t know if she will receive more things after the attack she did against her compatriot.
But she stands her ground. Between Lucy and Tony, there she has not a single hesitation.
While Lucy sleeps, Ona lights the fire again and puts some wet tissues on Lucy’s forehead to ease her fever. It seems to work; Lucy’s forehead seems less hot with time.
Ona makes herself more arrows too, she used almost all of them during their fight with Tony. She wonders briefly where the man is, before deciding that she doesn’t care. He might be Joan’s friend; she still has to fight for herself. And the girl she’s in love with.
Talking about Lucy, the girls finally stir for good, but groan in pain while turning on her back. Her face is clenched and Ona hurries to come closer to her.
“Where are you hurt?” she asks softly, removing some hair from her face.
“My head”
“Your head? You didn’t say anything about your head yesterday!”
Ona tries to make Lucy move a little to see which part of her head is hurting. The latter tries to fight against Ona at first, but it was before seeing how determined Ona was. Lucy sighs softly, finally turning on her side.
“Lucy what the fuck”
Lucy doesn’t answer anything and it’s maybe better like this. Ona is mixed between worry and anger against Lucy. There is a wound here too, one that Ona didn’t clean yesterday because Lucy didn’t say anything.
“You couldn’t have done anything anyway” Lucy finally mumbles.
“I still could have cleaned it” Ona answer, her gaze burning.
Lucy chooses widely not to answer anything and crosses her arms when Ona starts to look at the injury. It seems less important than the one on her stomach, but still less superficial than the ones she has on her arms.
Ona cleans Lucy’s head, wondering how she missed the dry blood in Lucy’s hair, before making the girl roll on her back to clean the injury on her stomach.
“How did he manage to attack you by the way?”
Lucy raises her eyes on Ona’s face. The brunette isn’t looking at her, concentrating on her work in Lucy’s body. Lucy sighs softly before answering.
“He took me by surprise. I was looking for food when he jumped on me from behind. He hit me with his weapon. I didn’t hear him coming. He smashed me on my head and from then it was hard to fight back.”
Ona nods softly, wondering if the noises she heard while she was alone in the forest was actually Tony. She hasn’t mentioned it to Lucy until now.
“I think I heard footsteps when I was waiting for you. At that point I was thinking it was you, but when I turned around there was no one. I wonder if it was him.”
“Maybe” Lucy answers after several seconds of thinking. “If it’s him, it means that he chose not to kill you.”
“Yeah…” Ona says slowly. “Or that I could have save you earlier”
Ona was finished with Lucy’s tape since several minutes, so Lucy takes her by her arm to take her closer.
“Don’t reflect like this. You saved me. If you came earlier, maybe you wouldn’t have been able to shoot him like you did. Great aim, by the way.”
Ona rolls her eyes and smiles, snuggling against Lucy as much as she can while being careful not to hurt her more. She smiles when she feels Lucy sighing from well-being, softly kissing her jaw.
“All of those trainings’ session are finally paying off. Looks like training his force wasn’t as useful as he thought.”
“Looks like listening to your mentor was a great idea” Lucy teases.
“It was. It’s because of her advice that I’m still alive”
“I’m glad Alexia Putellas is a genius then.”
Ona hums, stroking Lucy’s neck with her nose. She doesn’t know how much time they will have for themselves, she’s decided to enjoy it as much as she can. She loves Lucy’s scent and how hot and soft her skin is here.
“You know that he’s in love with you right? Tony?”
“I don’t care” Ona answers, kissing Lucy’s neck between her two sentences. “I’m in love with someone else.”
Lucy smiles at this, grabbing softly Ona’s chin between one of her hands.
“Look at you, you little flirt” she says with a smile, before taking Ona’s face against her to kiss her.
Ona smiles against Lucy’s lips, deepening the kiss quickly. Lucy lets her access to her mouth and Ona kind of forgets where they are. All she can think of is Lucy, Lucy’s hand, Lucy’s skin against her, Lucy’s touch. She still remembers not to hurt her, but when Lucy gently tilts them so that Ona is on her back, Ona can’t help but break the kiss.
“Your stomach…” Ona begins.
But Lucy smiles again, putting a finger on her lips.
“I’m fine” she whispers.
She looks in Ona’s eyes again before leaning in for another kiss. After two seconds of hesitation, Ona kisses her back, passing her arms around her neck. Ona is pretty sure that she could kiss Lucy all day long without being used to it. Or tired.
She shivers when Lucy’s fingers slide under the tissues of her clothes, stroking her skin with her fingertips. The sensations are even better than what she remembered or imagined, but when Lucy starts to suck her neck, she feels heat waves in her body and especially between her legs. Under the pleasure, Ona’s fingers (who were under Lucy’s clothes too) sink into the skin of Lucy’s back.
Lucy is very respectful about what Ona told her while still in the Capitol. Ona is sure that Lucy remembers that she never has been intimate with someone else like this. When Lucy is satisfied with her work on Ona’s neck, she kisses the skin lovingly here.
But Lucy seems to come back to reality for real when Ona tries to remove Lucy’s shirt.
“Ona, we don’t have to – “
“No. I want it”
Lucy hesitates for several seconds, looking deep in Ona’s eyes. But Ona only smiles at her, letting her hands run on her back and on her hips.
“I’m sure” she adds, seeing hesitation in Lucy’s eyes.
“Just… Tell me when you want to stop, please”
“I will.”
Ona wanted to answer that she won’t have to say it, because she was certain of what she wants. But she doesn’t have time, Lucy leaning another time for another kiss. Ona doesn’t wait any second to kiss Lucy back. She wants it, she’s sure about it. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that they might be dead in several hours, but there isn’t another person in the world she would do it with.
Ona’s clothes are suddenly too much on her skin, but Lucy’s hands manage to smooth her skin with their strokes.
There is no rush between them; they both take their time to discover each other and to remember each other at their fingertips.
And some time later, Ona is pretty sure that she never felt so blissful than now. When she looks up at Lucy who is holding her close against her body, she thinks that Lucy feels the same way.
Lucy feels Ona’s gaze on her because she looks at Ona back, offering her one of her perfect smiles.
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“How are you?”
“Pretty great” Lucy smirks at Ona over the fire.
“I was talking about your head” Ona chuckles.
She’s still a little mad at Lucy for having kept that injury away from her. But Lucy shrugs, still adding another branch of wood into the fire. The night is here now, and they had to leave the cave for several hours during the day. It has been their refuge and Lucy is a little scared that the leaders of the Games will try to make them get out of it.
“Can I see it?”
“Will you take no as an answer?” Lucy arches an eyebrow.
“No” Ona smirks.
Lucy rolls her eyes but turns around to let Ona have a look. The younger girl doesn’t wait a second and kneels behind Lucy, gently looking at Lucy’s wound. She hums when she sees it. It doesn’t look very good, but it seems to heal as best as possible.
“It looks okay” Ona whispers. “Are you still in pain? Honestly.”
“It’s okay. Pounding sometimes but I will survive.”
Ona bites her bottom lip, preferring not to remember that they are in a Game fighting for their life. She stays silent and Lucy doesn’t seem to catch what she is thinking about. She starts to talk anyway, taking Ona’s mind away from there.
“We need a plan now. To know how to fight against the others.”
“What do you have in mind?” Ona asks, going to sit in front of the other girl.
“First, we have Camden and Kayla. Camden is hardly injured, but Kayla doesn’t have any injury as long as I’m aware. It would be a hard fight if we were crossing their path. The best thing would be to have them separated. They were near the starting point until now, but they might have changed now.”
Ona nods. It would make sense; Lucy is now with her, and she knows where they were staying. Plus, one of them is hurt and they would probably want to hide him as long as possible.
“Then we have Tony. You hurt him pretty badly.”
Ona nods once again. She doesn’t know if it’s pretty bad, but he wasn’t able to stand up for several minutes at least. It’s still something.
“How would you feel about fighting against him again?” Lucy asks. “I know he’s a friend of your brother but…”
“I’ll do it as many times as I need if it means you will be safe” Ona doesn’t hesitate to answer.
There is a moment of silence, during which they share a look. Ona is determined and very certain of what she just said. She would give her life for Lucy, so she doesn’t mind a single second fighting against her district’s partner.
Lucy, on the other hand, gives the impression to Ona that she’s looking for something special in her eyes. But Ona let her look, not having anything to hide from her. After a moment, Lucy finally talks again.
“And then the two girls. We don’t know if they are together, but we can guess they are.”
“Haven’t you seen them at one point?”
Lucy shakes her head to answer no.
“They might be hidden somewhere. They haven’t killed anyone for now.”
“Could they be in the desert? That’s what we wanted to do with Teagan, we were almost sure that no one will come for us there”
“Maybe…” Lucy answers slowly, looking by the entrance of the cave. “I know there is an oasis somewhere, if they found it it’s probably the safest place in the arena.”
“How do you know that?” Ona frowns.
“I went to it at the beginning”
Lucy shrugs and Ona frowns. Lucy asked her a lot of questions about her adventure until they met again, but Ona sometimes feels like she doesn’t want to talk about hers. Which is a little strange in Ona’s eyes.
Ona stands, pretending to be looking for something in their bags. She doesn’t like that feeling in the bottom of her stomach. And it has nothing to do with the kick she received during her fight.
“You never told me”
Lucy shrugs one more time before answering, still sitting on the ground.
“I went with Declan. We just wanted to see what was there.”
Ona hums only, her back turned to Lucy. The brunette catches easily that something is disturbing Ona, only by the other girl’s behavior. Ona usually never hides her eyes to her, or even her face.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Lucy asks.
“Nothing.”
 But Lucy knows better. Rather than letting it go and talking about something else, she gets up to press her front against Ona’s back, passing her arms around Ona’s waist. Her chin is on Ona’s shoulder when she talks again.
“Ona, what’s wrong?”
Ona sighs softly. She knows she’s probably stupid about her reaction and she’s a little bit ashamed, to be honest. But Lucy is waiting patiently for her answer, and she finally opens her mouth again.
“It’s just… Sometimes I feel like you are hiding something from me. I don’t like it.”
She knows she’s right when Lucy bites her bottom lip before answering. Ona turns her head as good as she can given their position, looking for Lucy’s green eyes. When Lucy stays silent, Ona talks again, whispering this time.
“What happened?”
Lucy sighs at her turn, letting Ona go. The younger girl doesn’t like the way her body suddenly seems very cold without Lucy’s embrace. She squeezes her arms around her body, looking at Lucy.
“It’s just that I have to do some things. And I’m scared that if you know them it will change how you see me.”
Ona tilts her head, searching for Lucy’s eyes. Lucy seems so tense that it scared her. Suddenly she’s not a tribute at the Hunger Games, she’s just a girl waiting for the love of her life to admit what fault she did when they weren’t together.
“Like I told you, I had to do things and play a role at the beginning. I needed people to think that I just wanted to win and that we weren’t even friends you and me”
Ona nods, waiting more or less patiently about the end of Lucy’s confession.
“To show people that I was really into it, I had to kill. A lot of people. In fact, after killing Seth, I’m the one with the higher number of murders.”
“Oh…” Ona breaths.
She wasn’t expecting this to be honest. She doesn’t know what she was expecting, to be honest. But Lucy is still looking at her feet, not able to look up at Ona. So, the younger girl approaches her, kneeling a little bit to have their eyes at the same level.
“Lucy, it’s okay. You did it for us. You didn’t have the choice”
“I didn’t” she repeats. “If I had… I just needed to be with you again.”
“We are now”
“Yeah”
Ona smiles softly at Lucy, who smiles almost shyly back. She doesn’t like to be seen as weak or something, but the way Ona cups her face to kiss her makes her feel lighter than ever. She still doesn’t understand what she did to find a girl as sweet and kind as Ona.  
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The morning after, they decided to sort out their things to know what to take with them in their backpack and what to leave in the cave. They let some food they know would be damaged in their bag during the day, for example. Ona is never leaving her hoodie under her jacket, loving the soft feeling against her skin.
They take their weapons of course, the medical kits and the most important things to survive.
“Okay, let’s go” Lucy says, looking at the fire behind them.
Ona is looking at the cave with a little pout. She feels like they won’t come back, and it makes her a little sad. It’s once again a memory of her history with Lucy where she probably won’t be able to come again.
Easily understanding what Ona is feeling, Lucy smiles softly and passes her arm around Ona’s shoulders.
“Come on, Love. It will be okay”
She kisses Ona temple before taking her to go down the mountain again. Ona let her do, blushing softly at Lucy’s surname. It’s the first time she calls her something like that. Of course, she loves it.
They decided to go to the desert, Ona hoping not to cross someone else’s path during this. Or at least someone they can kill easily. They walk silently, just in case. Ona asked Lucy if she saw the wolves too, but the older woman answered negatively. But it seems to her that one of the tributes died because of the wolves. The idea made Ona shivers.
Lucy is walking first; Ona really closes behind her. She has to fight against Lucy to prevent her not from carrying all the heavy things. Ona is really scared that Lucy’s stomach will start bleeding again. She changed Lucy’s bandage before leaving, putting the old one in the fire.
The walk is pretty long, it seems that there is only one bridge to cross the breach. And that it is far away from where they are.
“It’s weird that we haven’t crossed anyone’s path” Ona mumbles at some point.
“Yeah” Lucy answers. “I think they used the fog to make people come closer to each other, I wouldn’t be surprised if they do something similar soon.”
Ona hums. She doesn’t really like the idea. The last time she had time with Teagan to leave, but it wasn’t the case for Lilith. Her death might have been harsh If Ona remembered correctly the screams of pain that she lets go before dying.
When they finally reach the bridge, Ona takes a last look behind her before crossing it, still behind Lucy. As soon as they arrive on the other side, the heath strikes them hard.
“What the fuck” Ona says, instinctively tying her hair.
Lucy smiles when she hears and sees Ona. Then she looks around, trying to remember where she went with Tony.
“I’m pretty sure the Oasis isn’t that way” she says, pointing somewhere right in front of them. “That’s where we went with Declan. Maybe we should go there?”
Ona nods, not having anything to say. She never came here before. The heath and the sand everywhere are very impressive, to be honest. But if they find the oasis, they could have something very interesting to have.
Still walking, Ona looks at Lucy’s neck and the drop of sweat running slowly on her skin. The sun is still high in the sky, which is a good thing because it means they still have a lot of time before the night. But they are still very hot because of the sun too.
“Are you okay?” Ona asks Lucy for the thousand times since they left.
“I am” Lucy answers patiently. “What about you?”
“I’m fine.”
They walk for some time more, seeing nothing around them other than sand and blue sky, until…
“This is the end of the arena”
Ona raises her head to look where Lucy is pointing. She doesn’t see anything at first, until she finally sees something looking like mini light blue lightning running in front of her eyes.
“We turn around?” Ona proposes.
Lucy bites her lips, thinking for several seconds before answering.
“I don’t know. If we do that, we will lose time and maybe we won’t find the oasis. But at least we know where we are exactly.”
“We were coming from the east to west. We just had to look at the sun to know where to go back” Ona shrugs.
There is a moment of silence, Lucy looking at Ona blankly for some long seconds, before answering.
“You know how to find your way with the sky?”
Lucy’s amazement is easily audible in her voice when she asks that question. But Ona just shrugs before smirking.
“I thought you would be able to do it too, aren’t you the one coming from the best fisherman’s family of Panem?”
Lucy rolls her eyes and smiles.
“I have nothing from the Bronze. And we have a compass and that kind of thing.”
They are walking next to each other now, softly bumping into each other from time to time while talking. There is nothing around them and they would easily see if someone else was here.
But they have to admit at some point that finding the oasis is harder than they thought. The sun is now hiding behind the horizon, gradually plunging them into the night.
“Do you want to take the torch?” Lucy asks Ona.
“I don’t know. Is this not going to draw attention to us?”
Ona looks at Lucy for several seconds before answering, not wanting to scare the girl.
“Are there not scorpions that come out of the sand at night?”
Lucy froze and looks at Ona, her eyebrows softly frowned. It’s something they learned during the survival courses, but to be honest, Lucy completely forgot about it.
“You are right…” Lucy answers slowly, before opening her eyes wide. “Wait, what is on your arm?”
Frowning at turn, Ona looks at her arm. A scorpion. There is a scorpion on her arm.
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Next chapter (Coming soon...)
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tardiskater · 2 days ago
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okay but like is there a fic that is more tragic then remus' canon? because like I think it's pretty damn hard to beat growing up alone because you were bitten when you were five and are afraid of hurting anyone, going to school during the start of a war, being thrown straight into fighting with your best friends as newly graduated teenagers, losing trust in eachother and coming home more and more tired, 'three' of your best friends dying all in one day and your boyfriend being the traitor who gets sent to askaban, having to survive alone for the next twelve years and endure the moons alone for the first time as a child because your pack is dead, becoming a teacher at the same school you grew up in and having to endure the ghosts of your past while trying to make a better future, having your deads best friends son be in your class who you saw on the day they were born but haven't seen since James and Lily's death, finding out that your traitorous ex boyfriend has escaped from prison and is near the school, finding out that one of your old best friends is still alive and that your ex boyfriend was never the traitor, reuniting with your ex boyfriend and feeling sixteen again, being thrown from the only job you have ever loved because you've been exposed as a werewolf, fighting in the second war with your boyfriend only to have him die a mear two years after you finally got him back, picking up the pieces and trying to find love again, marrying the cousin of your former boyfriend, having a child with her and then dying in the final battle of a war you've been fighting your whole life and being unable to see your son growing up.
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vodika-vibes · 1 day ago
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Forbidden
Summary: Fox has always followed the rules. As Marshal Commander of the Coruscant Guard it’s required to keep himself, and his men safe. It’s too bad that the only rule he isn’t able to follow is the only one that could protect him from emotional harm.
Pairing: Commander Fox x F!Reader
Word Count: 997
Warnings: Uh...kinda bittersweet, some minor discussion of the clones not being considered people
A/N: I wanted to write a Fox fic, and so I wrote a Fox fic.
Click HERE to be added to my taglist
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Fox is an idiot.
The world’s, no, the galaxy’s biggest idiot.
As Marshal Commander of the Coruscant Guard he knows that the rules that he, and Cody, have crafted for their brothers were designed to keep them safe, and alive, while on Coruscant. Designed to protect them from people who see the clones as less than the dirt beneath their feet.
He knows this.
Which is why he’s an idiot.
If he were smarter, or even better at following the rules, he would be back at the barracks, and probably asleep, or trying to sleep in the small bed that he can call his.
He definitely wouldn’t be here, in front of a small apartment, keying in a door code to see the one person on Coruscant who would ruin his life if she said the wrong thing to the wrong person. 
The door slides open as he finishes keying in the code, and he hurries into the apartment before anyone notices him, turning and locking the door behind him. 
The apartment, her apartment, is warm and cozy. It’s a studio apartment, barely big enough for one person, let alone two, but it feels like home to him. The walls are painted in warm creams and yellows, and every surface is covered with paintings and carvings. 
One wall of the hallway is covered by a massive shelf, which she bought specifically for him to store his armor on when he comes to visit, though it also doubles as a bookshelf. 
He finishes pulling his armor off, stashing each piece in a cubby, then he stores his blaster in the gun safe she also bought for his use, and then he steps further into the apartment.
Fox turns a corner, and there she is. 
Standing in her small kitchen, dancing and singing along to the music filling her home, all while decorating cookies on the tray in front of her. There’s flour in her hair, and on her apron, but she doesn’t seem to care as she swings her hips in time to the music.
She’s beautiful. She’s perfect.
Fox loves her.
And he’s completely fucked.
He leans against the wall and watches her dance for a moment, until she turns her head slightly and finally sees him. Her entire face brightens when she sees him, and Fox falls in love with her all over again.
“Fox! You came!” She wipes her hands on her apron, and then crosses over to him in several large bounces so she’s able to throw her arms around his neck.
He folds his arms around her, “Did you think I wouldn’t?” Fox shivers when she buries her face in his neck.
“I saw on the news that you all had a busy day,” She replies against his neck, “I wouldn’t have minded if you didn’t.”
“I needed to see you.”
She pulls away slightly and reaches up to brush her fingers against his jaw, “Did you?”
“I missed you while you were gone.” Fox adds as he lightly bumps his forehead against hers, “Two weeks is far too long for me to not be able to see you.”
She laughs softly, “Maybe I’ll bring you with me next time.” It won’t be possible, and they both know it, but it’s nice to pretend. “How are you?”
Horrible. Terrible. I’m starting to think that I won’t survive the war. 
The truth would scare her away, and losing her would destroy him, so he smiles and lies. “I’m alright, I just missed you.”
“Well, I’m here now.”
Fox pulls her closer, “Yeah, you are.” He decides that any more talking is unnecessary as he pulls her into a kiss. A single kiss that turns into another one, and then another one. 
He might very well be addicted to her.
“How long can you stay?” She asks, her voice slightly breathless. 
He shouldn’t stay for long. If anyone found out about this, about them, about her, he would be decommissioned and force only knows what would happen to her, but with her in his arms, Fox finds himself uncaring about the potential consequences. 
“You have me all night.” He whispers against her lips.
Delight flickers across her face, “Really?”
“Really.”
Laughter falls from her and she jumps into his arms, something that Fox was expecting as he effortlessly supports her weight while she hooks her legs around his waist. “You never stay all night.” She says against his lips.
“I am now.”
She kisses him properly, her arms tightening around his neck, “Good.”
Fox doesn’t even hesitate before he walks her across the room to drop her on her bed, and he doesn’t hesitate before he climbs over her, settling himself between her spread legs. 
There, stretched out beneath him, with her hair spread like a halo around her head, she’s never been more beautiful. He catches her hands and pins them over her head, before he leans in and kisses her, “I love you.” 
It’s not the first time he’s told her that he loved her, but her face brightens every time he does. If he ever meets the person who told her that she’s unlovable, he’ll kill them.
But that’s a thought for later. 
For now, though, he’s going to spend his night physically showing her how much he loves her. 
As he peels her apron and shirt off, tossing them to the side to be dealt with later, Fox kisses down her throat to her collar, “I wish,” He mumbles, “I wish we could live anywhere else. Somewhere where I can kiss you in public, without having to worry about someone seeing.” He looks up at her, “Somewhere where us isn’t forbidden.”
“Maybe someday,” She whispers, “After the war. It can’t continue forever, and then you’ll be free to choose.”
An optimist’s view, perhaps, but Fox is happy to cling to her optimistic hope while he’s in her arms.
And so his original point remains.
He really is the galaxy’s biggest idiot.
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ganondoodle · 1 day ago
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couldnt fall asleep for at least 2 full hours bc i kept thinking about it, so ... more (i hope this is the last time)
what was the point of adding isha? no i mean it! i started to like her in act 2 bc i liked mute characters and her with vanderwick where pretty cute.. those episodes are still my favorite, but shes so?? she gets dropped into jinxs lap quite literally (WHY where cross's goons (the chembaron) even chasing her?? i thought thered be some reveal or soemthign or backstory idk but no she just came out of nowhere and got chased for no reason other than to end up falling on jinx and seeing her shoot the goons) and then is given some cutesy time with em only to die horribly for literally nothing except make jinx .... suicidal ... which SHE ALREADY WAS, the entire vi and jinx fight scene at the start of the season is about her wanting vi to kill her- using isha like that is such a waste and so cheap, it served no purpose other than to give jinx and the viewer i guess the hope that things could be better even after everything only to rip it all away again and make it all even worse, but it already was so bad that it falls incredibly flat, and aside from jinx being worse than ever mentally no one seems to really mind? (ALSO feels slimy bc she was mute, mute kid chaarcter only gets used as a cheap way to make mentally unwell character even more mentally unwell)
magma vanderwick ... how ... what was that then? i thought it was either singed who was left alone in the greenhouse with vanderwick using that serum on him that supposedly .. does something to prevent viktor from bringing vanders mind fully back (no other information on that?) or it was viktor 'dying' that made all other cult people flop over and get taken/into stasis, and bc vanderwick was such a strange creature it took vander or part of him but not the beast- but then in act 3 ..... singed uses that serum THERE, so it wasnt him doing anything and him standing ominously in the broken greenhouse was jsut to .. show singed was still alive bc that fucker cant ever die- AND when stupid viktor turns people into fugly robots (im pretty sure, unless im mixing up what mind erased him) you see his memories being burned, so hollowed out .. which means that he was still himself? so it wasnt that viktors 'death' erased vander and left the beast bc it was still both at that point .... what the fuck was up with him then at the end of act2??? why did he go all volcano??
AND then at the end with the weird vi getting emotional over fugly robo vanderwick scene the beast i guess is STILL there .. but when you get turned like that you just turn into a robot and your mind ceases to exist, he already had vander erased, but then gets taken and turned robo so the beast should be gone too?? no`??? even if i remember it wrong and it was viktor who mind erased just vander- again problem as before, why did he go volcano then?? AND why did he slump over dead eyed after it? shouldnt the beast take over immediately when vanders gone??
....did jinx even interact at all with sevika after the scene in stillwater?? i dont think so, what a joke honestly, sevika was pretty much part of the team, then she gets isha out and then next time its jinx isha and vi going to search for vanderwick, the fuck has she been doing until the last episode where she doesnt say or really do a single thing???
im sorry lesbians but that sex scene was rather missplaced, not agaisnt it in general but the timing?? (any sex scene there at that time would be missplaced imo) jinx pretty clearly told vi that she will kill herself "you wont have to worry about me anymore" "im breaking the cycle" HELLO??? and while we dont know how long it took for cait to find vi down there (whereever that prison even is? not stillwater thats for sure) shouldnt vi burst out the prison and go chase after jinx the second she was freed???? i get she says soemthign like losing hope of getting through to her BUT JINX IS GOING TO KILL HERSELF?????????? and then cait and vi make out and fuck in the LITERAL SAME CELL THAT JINX WAS JSUT IN?????????? and even after that doesnt go to check on her?? you CANNOT tell me vi just gave up on her and accepted she killed herself like that
ALSO did no one know what signed was doing with vanderwick (who was still alive .. so isha kinda died uselessly, if he died then as well at least it would mess up the plan .. the stupid plan, i hate viktor cocoon hivemind shit)? they had to get vi out of there so ?? and vi also didnt like .. check if idk vanderwick was really fully dead or just go there again? even if it was secured or soemthign i dont remember her askign anything about him just jinx ... bc there she still cared at least a little bit about her i guess
jayce ... why did act2 make him out to be all mad and like he was given a mission by ekko and heimer (bc he says "i wont fail them" THEM) but then its revealed it was old future viktor who send him back/gave him the mission- ALSO why was he so extreme and mad in act2 when .. yes in act 3 you see him go through that torture in the cavern but when he climbs up hes relatively calm and collected and ignores the weird crawly monsters and has a somewhat normal conversation with old viktor .. and then he returns and is suddendly all mad and going after present viktor- WHICH ONLY MAKES IT SO IT ENDS UP LIKE THE STUPID TIMELOOP??? did i miss something or does that makes no sense?? the only reason it not ending up like that being ekkos intervention- but jayce before that seems to just .. do all that like he wants it to end like in the loop .. i thought he was trying to stop it .. what was the point?
did no one question where the heck salo went? even if he fell from grace .. it feels weird to put him to viktor, make it clear on him how viktor isnt just healing people but taking their minds bc that wasnt salo anymore and no one seems to care?
kinda similar with mel bc her being taken only really matters to ambessa (and when they reunite i expected ambessa to break tbh ...) and one comment from salo and anyone else? who cares? wasnt she in charge? i mean yeah cait took over in a sense but it still feels weird; plus on the whole mel business .. she went from big important power figure of the enterity of piltover to uh .. mage lady in black body suit so quickly? political power figure to weeee blasting vaguely gold magic stuff all over yippiiiie (but in general all political stuff just went out the window with those last episodes)
i said before how i didnt like the whole getting put into other dimension bs with ekko even if the setting was somewhat neat, but similar how weird jayces end speech to viktor felt idk .. ekko having to see, interact and .. make out with a jinx/powder that was 'normal' to see that jinx in his time still had value felt slimy to me also he conveniently gets put right there when jinx is about to kill herself (bc neither sevika nor VI went after her??or did he find her? when did he show up again? idk tbh?) and then uses the z-drive just to try and say the right thing to not make her do it and at the end to through it in viktors face ....................... and jinx showing up at the end barely changes anythign except give her another outfit/look and put her up there in order to do her 'sacrifice' .............idk it all felt so cheap
also maddie evil reveal was so .... was that really needed, like that especially? just so ambessa can tell caitlyn 'told you lol' ?
caitlyn knowing that jinx isnt gone and keeping it a secret is played as if thats a cool thing bc jinx isnt dead yippiiee but to me it makes it even worse (aside from the whole 'our story isnt over' bleurgh ouch eughgnen line of teasing more bc big corpo likes to leaves things open in case they make more expensives shows to serve nothing but the world most overblown champion and skin trailers and in case they dont well who cares) bc its just so ... slimy, am i supposed to see it as a happy end or win for vi bc she gets to be with caitlyn?? bc that is more important than her SISTER THE RELATIONSHIP TO WHICH THE ENTIRE SHOW WAS BUILT AROUND?????? adding the trope i hate 'group of people splitting up at the end bc thats clearly the best for them' FUCK THAT! Vi should have joined jinx and sevika (add isha and non robo vanderwick best case scenario, also ekko and they all get cool jinx outfits and everything, let jinx be a hero instead of a lil crazy footnote in viktors god complex) and get caitlyn on her side to fight piltover to free zaun (maybe with ambessa taking over piltover, mel returning and joining the forces of zaun forcing her to fight her even though it breaks ambessa bc she cares too much about mel or soemthing and jayce and viktor can battle it out gay boi style somewhere else or later interupting the main revolution fight idk im jsut yelling but this whole viktor god thing and robo war and whatever really went so off the rails and out of propoertion i hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh also vanderwick should get to kill singed)
..........and the line of Vi calling herself the dirt under caitlyns fingernails? ... what a line to end this stupid episode with, what a line, a zaunite calling herself dirt under her noble piltover lovers fingernails
(so ... in the end ... what was 'the arcane'? its not the void? its not jsut magic? its something fucked they created when trying to create magic but ... what was it? what where those creepy crawling things? why does it work like that? taking peoples minds? healing their bodies with metal parts but also hiveminding them? what was the hexcore in the end? what the hell was all that? where did the crystals even come from? skarners lore got erased so not there? did i just forget that? and also mages exist but also seem like a very unknown thing in the show? and then mel just is that? and the black rose? like??? what was the point??? it all just feels so pointless? what was this all for? a cheeasy happy ending where they fuck with time more to fix it all would have been satisfying to me than this ... this nothing)
okay i do have to do a mini (i call it mini now.. this is just letting my feelings about it out, so its spelled agressively bc im just so .. frustrated ... also not hate to the studio or the people working on it .. obviously >_>) rant about arcane-
SPOILERS AHEAD FOR ARCANE SEASON 2
its the most beautiful show ever produced, i mean it, its style, fortiche's (the studio) style, is just .... impossibly pretty, 3d and 2d, the animation is just so GOOD, the designs largely (like 95%) are too, the acting and sound design, the voice acting (at least the english one) is so emotional and good, the show in general is just good ... until the last episode
i have my own problems with riot declaring arcane the new canon out of nowhere and for no good reason since it was, im very sure, never conceived to be that, its a reinterpreation and works best as such, now literally everything is once again completely messed up, no one knows whats real and what isnt, no champion or story is safe, especially with the weird hexcore bullshit potentially erasing the VOID (whish is like ... half on which the canon was built on tbh) AND hextech- multiple champions being impossible to exist now .... but thats not what i wanted to talk about
i was pretty on board with everything the show did, though i wasnt a big fan of the whole hexcore stuff, but it all spiraled so far out of control, it just kept making everything worse, also with bringing in the black rose and leblanc, it kept piling stuff onto the plate despite them already compressing everything so drastically; espeically regarding viktor, but i kept my hope up even after season 2s act 2 bc it still seemed 'fixable', though not easily so
what i liked about it (in its writing) despite its pacing issues was that it was rather .. self contained for the longest time, focused on the characters and the class struggle of piltover and zaun, and doing so rather well imo, like it did and said things i did not expect riot to let through
i was worried with the alternate universe stuff that came with the escalating hexcore bullshit but held onto hope even until episode 8 and then ...man .. the last episode ... the fuck was that- like i hate timetravel and multiverses and whatever but the thing with ekko was done rather neatly ... they made all those chaarcter models and sets just for that short stuff and really .. was of little use other than getting heimerdinger out of the picture as well lmao maybe he will get his own series to advertise for 200 dollar skins in league hahaaaa but i guess the main point was to give ekko the z-drive ... which feels alot like what i feared about them forcing it to comply with the characters in game ,,,, even though that wasnt for everyone like warwick was done SO dirty after giving me hope in act two
everythings focused on the hexcore/arcane shit, theres the black rose shit (honestly i think it was a mistake bringing them in too bc .. noxus is its entire own region with so many champs and story itself that got connected via ambessa .. which was a new character the show made up until they made her a champ now .. its just too much to put into this one show already going at a breakneck pace), mel doing her bit with them then bam she mage now which felt like a champion teaser more than an organic part of the story, especialyl with how hard it got pushed later (poor little riots gotta sell more game cosmetics uwu), jayce just taking over control again and everyone going with it, singed reviving stupid version victor via using vander/warwick WHO WAS STILL ALIVE AFTER ISHA BLEW HERSELF UP TO STOP HIM FROM KILLING EVERYONE (which was ALREADY pretty cheap, but i guess jinx had to be even more suicidal than she already was heehoo), dont even ask me HOW, viktor was just whoops from corpse to im a cocoon now, ambessa being so obsessed with it, the entire class struggle being """"solved"""" by piltover and zaun fighting stupid viktors weird ass robot shitheads together and then acting like giving sevika a seat at the council is the solution to it, half the cast just dying horribly for honestly no reason?? ORIANNA being now i guess some weird viktor robot but without the mindcontrol part and singed just kinda ... winning i guess by giving her cocoon some goo of stupid viktors cocoon
it just all ... turning from this so drama, character and class struggle thing into weird ass dimension hopping magical world war that all gets solved bc we fought together once uwu AND it being a fucking timeloop WITHIN what ONE episode? and that being the ENDING (i know i know the hexcore bs was building up throughout the show but it still felt so .. unearned and sudden ... )
also i got personal gripes with the 'ending' bc .. was it REALLY an ending like they kept saying?? was it?? viktor, jayce, heimerdinger, jinx are just disappeared i guess, mel going back to noxus- the fucking 'our story isnt over' tease???? the last minute appearance of swains fucking raven???? pecking at something blue and shining like idk a hex crystal??? SHUT UP i dont want more to come, this story should have had its self containing ending, not this open ended bullshit that just reeks of corporate meddling bc they want their game to connect to their popular show as much as possible now so we gotta bring in as many teases and connections to other champions YIPPIEEEEE (yelling)
also if jinx is dead, wow, what a way to end her story, the traumatized suicidal character being tortured and tortured especially after seemingly having something good for once (i liked act 2 except for its ending the most bc ... man jinx was so enjoyable there, i loved her dynamic with vi and isha and half wolf vander warwick with the beast and man struggle i love alot, that part was genuinely beautiful, i wasnt a fan of the idea of idk ekko doing time stuff and them having a happy ending bc i just dont like going back in time to fix everything kinda stuff, but i would have much much prefered that, not changing the existing story into the perfect world where everythings happy (though i liked that part ... vander silco being gay husbands like that is just so goood) but to fix what is fixable in the present- them still having gone through alot but being able to live with it, so act 2 setup was honestly my favorite way to not invalidate everything and still have something happy .... but no we gotta kill the kid to make jinx even worse and vander/warwick too while we are at it
if shes not dead (given you see a blimp(?) flying away and her scribbles showing up and caitlyn looking at the blueprints of the hexgates) then ... ??? oh yeah lets make her leave zaun and just idk go be the main character in noxus or soemthing for the next show they are gonna do bc jinx is popular so putting her everywhere is a good idea!!!1!!11
ALSO since vander/warwick is my favorite .. i thought maybe after isha doing that, if they dont reverse it, hed get taken by singed again or ran away and turned fully werewolf like he is in the game (though i would have liked if they were able to be a weird family like in act2)- but no he just gets used as fuel for stupid viktor cocoon and then mind erased and made into the ugliest weird robot thing that looks more like galio than him JUST and i feel like it really is JUST to have Vi at the end do the scene that gets jinx 'killed' .. to lead into the 'more to come' teaser.. idk about you but that scene felt so .. forced, the typical oh no platform is slowly falling down but Vi suddendly gets emotional about weird ugly robot warwick (who conveniently comes back to life as ugly robot beast since his human mind got erased but not the beast??? i guess???) and completely ignores jinx yelling at her to get to safety, it felt so WEIRD to me (if you gotta do him like that at least let Vi listen to jinx, them embracing and then watchign emotionally as robo vanderwick falls into the hexgate thing .. that was still active somehow i guess??)
(poor viktor got done so dirty too .. i liked him .. until it all went weird wit hthe hexcore stuff ....... ..... also jayce weird speech to him .. why the FUCK did you not do that back in the cult camp instead of blasting him to bits, i get it he was fucked up from seeing the future, but then later hes just ... okay???? pretty fine all things considered??? and pretty aware of everything?? also his weird speech being all like vitkor actually you were perfect in your imperfection BITCH HE WAS SLOWLY DYING AN AGONIZING DEATH???? idk ??? it all feels so weird to me, like there episodes literally missing- ambessa dying also felt so unnecessary .. just so mel can take her place and go to noxus and have more shows maybe- )
i just .... and just like how i cant enjoy botw anymore after them fucking it all up with totk ... i dont know if i will rewatch arcane knowing it ends like that, what was that for, the most beautiful show ever made just to do a game of thrones ending in a single episode?
im so tired of it all ..... im so tired of being disappointed and feeling let down over and over no matter with how little expectations i go in with
this willl be the only arcane rant unless theres some .. big stupid reveal that gets me more frustrated than i am now, which i hope there isnt .. im tired of being and feeling like this .. i just want to enjoy things, everythings going to shit IRL and i cant even find something enjoyable to watch
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im-smart-i-swear · 7 months ago
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guy trapped in a hell of his own creation: haha ive never done anything wrong in my entire life. and im always right:] anyway. why did my little brother move out:(
its so funny to me that at first glance tashi seems like hed be the most 'normal' out of all the clones but at least all the others are slowly healing n shit while hes just getting more and more insane each day and one day hell snap and explode and maim someone
#my art#my funky guys#HES SO FUCKING STUPID.#tashi im sorry ily but youre literally the dumbes fucking motherfucker ive ever seen. and a cringe loser. never change king<3#like. this guy realised he was a clone when he was a month old and decided to base his new personality entirely#on the idealised version of the original he made up in his head.#like he did this to himself!!! he chose to revolve his entire personality around being a 'perfect flawless mom friend'!!!!!!!#in his head hes like the most selfless & altruistic person to ever walk the earth but in reality hes a sad selfish mess who just wants to#be loved.#he started out as a pretty nice and level headed guy who wanted to help ppl but then it just spiraled when he made that his entire#personality bc of his inability to move on from a lie he really wanted to be true.#he percieves shiro as this perfect flawless leader figure and he wants DESPERATELY to imitate that. deep down its not enough for him to#simply coparent and share responsibility w the others. no no no he has to be The Leader and do everything himself!#this mindset results in him later on starting to dismiss and undervalue his familys work and commitment to keeping them all alive-#esp soup. like sHE WAS THERE W HIM FROM THE VERY BEGINNING THEY ARE EQUALS THEY ARE BOTH EQUALLY IMPORTRANT#AND HES SO FAR UP HIS ASS HE FORGOT. somewhere along the line he forgot. he missed the point. he spiraled too deep.#and he knows. he knows but hes so terrified of change and growth and admitting he CANT do this alone.#he wants to be a cool epic capable solo leader AND he craves family and connection soooo badly he cant live w/o his loved ones.#so yeah. hes an angry little pathetic freak<3 i love him#despite all that hes not a bad person. just a flawed guy thrown into a situation so stressful and traumatising that he clinged to the only#coping mechanism he had at the time and just sorta. ran with it.#dw he gets better tho! it takes a lot and his and sticks relationship is strained for a LONG time but he slowly gets better. good for him
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quietwingsinthesky · 2 years ago
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prev post I don’t want to bother op with this but. that is why s5 lucifer is so good too.
#ex. hammer of the gods. I mean he’s fucking gleeful about the massacre. he’s having fun.#and then this is the same episode that ends with him in tears and breathing shakily over his brother#and there’s no one watching. this is not a performance. he is just. he’s grieving.#and idk!! compelling!!!#joke post yesterday about Lucifer crying more onscreen#but actually it was not a joke I would have killed for more moments like this#late seasons lucifer could have been redeemed for me if like. we just had scenes where he stopped for a minute.#like maybe when he hears about Raphael’s death. maybe when Chuck refuses to pull Michael out of the cage with Lucifer.#and just fucking!!!! let him mourn them in privacy!!!!!!!!#like it’s not much but that would have added a little depth to his spiral!!!!! he’s alone!!!! he’s the only one alive and free!!!!#ahhhh late seasons lucifer who is exactly the same when around the human characters or demons because he just. doesn’t care anymore.#but when it comes to Heaven. to his remaining siblings. he puts in the effort to care about them.#you know just like how much better would it have been if Lucifer was completely and utterly genuine in his attempts to create new angels#and he just couldn’t. he didn’t know he couldn’t and he finds out because he’s trying and he can’t.#nothing much has to change he can still get kicked out for ‘lying’ about being able to.#whos’s going to believe him when he says he didn’t know?#and now imagine a version of Jack & Lucifer’s relationship coming off the crux of that#Jack is the last ditch attempt at creation. the breaking point.#I’m rambling but you see it. you see it right? the desperate grasping at something he could never get back?#the way everything would clash. if he treated Jack with love. but everything else could burn for all he cared.#cause Jack was it. he tried to make angels and failed but he DID make Jack.#and the winchesters trying to keep his son away from him? turn Jack against him? he might. break. about that.#like I’m saying if you kept the basic plot structure of the final seasons and just made tiny adjustments to Lucifer’s character#not even really his actions just his motivations!!! BOOM!!!! fucking!!!!! better show!!!!!!#anyway this has been speculation with will come back at 8 and I’ll talk about the bunker being a mushroom#spn#Lucifer spn
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soaps-mohawk · 6 months ago
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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 20: The New Normal
Summary: Your pack settles into a routine as you learn to adapt to the shifting relationships between all of you.
Pairings: Poly 141 x reader, Price x Gaz
Word Count:
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, p in v sex, unprotected sex, threesome, BDSM elements, dry humping, language, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, angst, PTSD, flashbacks, nightmares, smoking, Gaz being the prettiest boy alive.
A/N: Not much to say about this one. Hope it's worth a two week wait...
MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->
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A yelp leaves your lips as your feet leave the ground, your body hitting the floor rather ungracefully. You roll from the force of the impact, stopping flat on your back. You stare up at the ceiling, trying to catch the breath that was forced from your lungs from your impact with the floor. 
“You left yourself too open again.” 
“Well how was I supposed to know which way you were moving?” You say, slowly pushing yourself back up to sit as you catch your breath. 
“You can’t, that’s why you have to keep yourself guarded at all times. Anyone you’re fighting will do worse than that as soon as your guard is down.” 
You stare at Simon’s shoes as he stops a foot away from you. The laces are pulled to the exact same tension on both sides, double knotted to avoid them coming undone and becoming a tripping hazard. Even the way his crew socks are pulled up over the legs of his sweatpants speaks volumes of how on guard he is. Always ready for a fight, always ready so that nothing can get in his way and put him at risk. 
He lets out a quiet sigh as he drops down into a squat in front of you. “How have you been sleeping?”
Your gaze finally leaves his shoes, trailing up his legs to his arms where they rest on his knees. You follow the lines of his tattoos until you reach where his shirt sleeve covers the rest. You work your way up until you reach his mask-covered face, finally meeting his brown eyes. There's a softness to them now you've never noticed before, something you might not have taken notice of now had you not become brave enough to look that deep. 
“Better,” You clear your throat, dropping your gaze to the mat. “But still not great.”
This morning had started with you shaking in Johnny's hold, his arms wrapped tightly around you as he whispered soft reassurances in your ear. The nightmares haven't gone away since your confession, nor have they even really lessened, but at least now you aren’t suffering alone when they wake you from your sleep. At least now your pack knows how to best comfort you when your mind insists on silently torturing you. 
You still haven’t slept alone since they returned, nor have you spent any great length of time in your room. There’s still a lingering feeling of someone watching, of something staring at you from inside the walls. You’ve checked while they were at training for any cameras you might have missed, but you’ve come up empty handed. Maybe it was just the knowledge that your safe space had been invaded causing that paranoid itching in the back of your mind to linger. None of the guys have complained about you staying with them at night, though perhaps you have your confession about your nightmares to thank for that.  
“The nightmares?” Ghost asks, snapping you from your thoughts. 
You nod. “Yeah.”
The risk of them finding out about your nightmares has made you less afraid to sleep, but still the fear of what horrible scene your mind will come up with keeps you awake. You pull your knees to your chest, making yourself small as you sit in front of him. He’s just so big, so broad and bulky, truly the ideal specimen of a perfect alpha. He’s the kind of alpha your fellow omegas at the institute would whisper about. Some big, strong protector who would provide for them and keep them safe and satisfied. 
If only they could see you now. 
Despite the shift in your relationship with Simon, things haven’t changed much. He’s still the quiet, looming figure behind you, posing a silent threat to anyone who might think about approaching you. He still places a hand on your back to steer you, still stands closer behind you than he used to, still looks at you with a softer look in his eyes than you’ve ever seen before. Sometimes you’re tempted to push that boundary first, to lean in and rest your head on his broad chest, feel the muscle under his shirt again. You want to press up against his back while he sleeps and let his warmth seep into your bones. Sometimes when you’re alone and your thoughts begin to run rampant, you think about how you have nothing to fear because Simon would rip the face off anyone who tried anything. 
Of course, he has to be here in order to do that. 
You won’t have to be alone again. John had promised you that much. He’d fight harder to make sure you’re not alone again. Not, at least, for a while if it can be avoided. 
“You’re thinking too much again.” Simon says, pulling you from your thoughts for a second time. 
You stare at him, suddenly realizing he’s moved closer to you. You’re not sure when he did, too caught up in your own thoughts to be aware of your surroundings. It’s dangerous, your ability to sink into your mind and get lost there. You know it and they know it. Yet you can’t help it. It’s safer in your head, easier to exist in a place where you’re in control, where you can predict what’s going to happen next. 
Simon’s hand wraps around your ankle, tugging you closer to him. You fall flat on your back on the mat, body sliding partially under his. He looms over you, settling his weight across your thighs as his hands come to rest on either side of your head. Your eyes are wide as you stare up at him, your heart pounding in your chest, as it usually does when you’re in this position.  
“Now, what do you do when someone pins you?” He asks, the sharpness back in his gaze as he stares down at you. 
Lay here and don’t move, or at least that’s what you want to do currently. He’s just so big and warm, and the way he makes you feel so small under him has your head spinning. How you wish he’d press his body into yours, let you feel him completely. The scents in the air begin to thicken as you find your head tilting back on instinct, baring your throat to him in submission. 
His hand closes around your chin, forcing your gaze back on his. “Focus.” He says, projecting his scent more to try and cover yours. It goes straight to your head, your gaze sharpening just slightly as you stare up at him. The scent of alpha around you has your mind racing in several different directions. You know you should be afraid, but it’s Simon. You know him, you trust him. He’d never hurt you intentionally, but he’s still an alpha. 
The strong musky scent has something in the back of your head prickling, your instincts teetering on the edge of safety and danger. You know the alpha over you, but what if it was someone else? That was the point of all of this, right? You won’t be fighting off Simon or John. It will be someone unfamiliar, someone who wants to hurt you. 
Simon’s fingers leave your chin, trailing down your neck. Your pulse thrums faster as his fingers near the base of your throat. The scent of alpha is strong in your nose. How easily he could slip his hand around the back of your neck and squeeze, rendering you brainless and under his control. 
Your mind goes blank and you move without even thinking. Your fist slams into his side right where he’d taught you to hit. He buckles at the sudden attack and you use his moment of surprise and disorientation to free one of your legs and drive your knee right into his stomach. You push him off of you, scrambling back a couple feet before your mind begins to clear. Simon lays on the mat, almost wheezing as he tries to get the air back into his lungs. 
You flounder there for a moment, watching the giant alpha you had just incapacitated. You don’t know where that came from or how you’d managed it. No, that’s not totally true. You know where the fear had come from, but you also know Simon would never do something like that to you. 
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You say, shifting onto your knees in case Simon retaliates, in case he gets angry at you for attacking him. “I don’t know what just happened.”
“The hell are you apologizing for?” He coughs out, pushing himself onto his side. “That was bloody brilliant.” 
You blink in surprise, taken aback by his response. “What?” 
“That’s what you were supposed to do.” He says, pushing himself the rest of the way up onto his knees. “I asked what you should do if you’re pinned, and you did it.” 
You continue to stare at him, not quite sure how to process the sort-of praise from him. He had asked you what you should do if you were pinned, and you had done what you were supposed to do. It hadn’t quite been for the right reasons, but you did do something correctly. You managed to incapacitate him enough to get out from underneath him, and without him going easy on you. 
Maybe the training is working after all. 
“Do that in a fight, you might just give yourself enough time to run.” He says, pushing himself up to stand. “Good job.” 
You continue to stare at him as he passes you, heading to the bench where your belongings sit. You’re still kneeling there on the mat in surprise. You hadn’t expected such genuine praise from him. But why not? He’s doing this to train you, to teach you how to defend yourself against anyone who might want to hurt you. Anyone who’s stupid enough to try something when they’re not here to defend and protect you. 
Something that’s already happened. 
You’ve finally managed to defend yourself, to apply the things he’s spent weeks teaching you successfully. Why shouldn’t he be proud of you for that? 
You’re still getting used to this new side of him, this accepting side, the softness that he’s showing you in his own way. It’s what you wanted, what you’ve been trying to achieve for weeks now, and now that you have it...you’re not quite sure what to do with it. Where does the boundary lie? What if you push too far? Will things go back to the way they were before? Will he shut you out completely? 
Hands slip under your arms, lifting you to your feet. You turn, your head tilting back to stare up at Simon. He’s wearing that emotionless mask on his face, or at least that’s what you picture as you stare up at his eyes. It’s the look he carries the most, giving away nothing and effectively hiding what he’s feeling. You wish you could see his face. You’ve tried to draw up images of what he might look like, what he hides under the mask. He can’t be ugly, at least not totally. Johnny had reassured you of that much, but you wish for just a glimpse more than his chin and his lips when he eats. 
“You’re thinking too much again.” He says, taking half a step back from you. 
“Sorry.” You blink, trying to pull yourself from the depths of your mind once again. 
“Come on. Let’s get breakfast.” He says, tilting his head towards the door. 
You follow him from the gym, his steps markedly slower compared to how he used to walk. Gone are the days of almost having to run to keep up with him. You could almost swear he takes smaller steps too, instead of his normal long, purposeful strides. It’s almost as if he’s out for a stroll instead of being forced into the task of escorting you to breakfast. 
His hand finds your back again as you enter the mess, guiding you through the tables to the line to get food. His palm is warm where it’s pressed against the middle of your back, his fingers splayed, pressing just slightly into your skin through your shirt as an alpha soldier passes just slightly too close to you. 
He still won’t fill your tray for you, but you can respect that. It’s a big step, and only done if there’s interest in courting or caretaking. You don’t expect that level of intimacy from him, certainly not right now. Perhaps never. 
He’s not your alpha. 
He guides you to the table where the others are sitting, and you take your normal spot between John and Kyle. They both shift just slightly closer to you almost subconsciously. Everything is almost a subconscious action now. Simon’s guiding hand on your back, your alpha moving closer to you, the betas keeping you between them whenever you’re with them. It’s a good sign, or at least you think it is. It feels right, a sort of easy flow that has developed between the five of you. One you don’t have to think very hard about. 
“How did trainin’ go?” Johnny asks between shoveling bites of eggs into his mouth. 
“Fine.” You shrug. “Simon threw me across the mat.” 
All eyes at the table turn to him despite your nonchalant tone. It wasn’t the first time it’s ever happened, and you’re sure it won’t be the last. 
“She took me down herself afterwards.” Simon says, not bothering to look up from his porridge. 
Now all eyes at the table are on you. Your cheeks warm and you slowly start to make yourself smaller under their gazes. 
“Had her pinned and she disarmed me enough to get free.” Simon continues, his gaze lifting so he’s staring at you too. 
“Christ, what I would pay tae see that.” Johnny says, grinning widely at you. 
“So training is paying off then.” John says, patting your back gently. 
“Guess so.” You shrug, still feeling a bit bashful under the attention. “Not sure how useful I’d be in a real fight still.” 
“Well, your first defense is trying to escape. Running is always the priority, remember?” John says. 
You nod. Right. Run first. Like you should have opened the window and ran when that beta knocked on your door. Like you should have run when you noticed your door was open. Like you should have run when someone tried to get into your room. 
How disappointed they’d be if they knew how you failed to follow even the most basic instructions. What would have happened if you hadn’t noticed the cameras? Would whoever tried to get into your room that night still have tried to enter? What if the door had been unlocked? What if they had gotten in? What would you have done, then? Try to disarm them enough to run to Dr. Keller? 
That is what you were supposed to do. 
Instead you had been stupid and froze in your fear and let it all happen, and now you can’t even tell them. It’s too late, it’s been too long. They’d be too upset if you confessed now instead of if you’d done it right when they returned. 
You have to bury it now and hope it stays that way for the rest of time. 
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John is the one that walks you back to the barracks after breakfast. You don’t remember the last time he walked you to a meal or back from it. Usually he was too busy doing his job, or setting up things, or whatever else it is he does. Walking you back to the barracks was far too menial a task for how busy he is. 
You hold his hand as you walk, close enough that his arm brushes your side with every step. You don’t let go of his hand even when he walks you to your door, keeping your fingers laced as you turn to look up at him. 
“You gonna be alright on your own?” He asks, staring down at you with a soft look in his eyes. 
No. You’re almost tempted to say it, to throw your arms around him and confess, to beg him to keep you close, to stay, to take you with him. Anything so you won’t have to be alone ever again. 
You swallow the lump in your throat as you nod. “Yeah.” 
For a moment, just a moment you think he doesn't believe you. There’s a second of hesitation, a cold chill running down your spine as your anxiety spikes. What if he knows you’re lying? What if he’s testing how long you’ll keep up the charade? How long you’ll try to keep them in the dark about what happened. He knows something is wrong. He can tell.
Your back meets your door as he crowds you in, releasing your hand so he can press both into the wood on either side of you. Something warm stirs in your stomach as you stare up at him, feeling very small as he looms over you. 
He lets out a low rumble in his chest as he leans down. For a moment you’re expecting a kiss, but he moves to the side at the last moment, nudging your chin so it’s tilted up, bearing your throat to him. “What’s got you so worked up, huh?” He murmurs against your neck, his beard prickling the sensitive skin. “Have we been neglecting you for too long?” 
Saying yes wouldn’t be a lie. They haven’t really sought you out in that way since their return. The most you’ve gotten in the last almost two weeks was when Johnny slipped his hand into your sleep shorts, and you returned the favor. John and Kyle hadn’t really even tried to initiate anything, treating you more like you’d shatter into a million pieces if they touched you too much. 
Maybe a good fuck would solve some of your issues. 
It would at least help you forget for a while. 
A quiet moan leaves your lips as John sucks on your mark, the imprint of his teeth scarred into your skin. The mark that claims you as his, bonded to him for the rest of your life. 
Lust and desire burns hot in your veins and you find yourself cupping his face, tugging him away from your neck so you can kiss him. He lets out a growl against your lips as you kiss him like you want to devour him, your hands sliding to his shoulders to tug him closer to you. His hands drop from the door to rest on your hips, pulling you flush against him. You can feel him, his cock hardening through his cargo pants. 
You’d let him take you right here, right now, right in the hallway. You don’t care that anyone could walk in at any moment, anyone would be able to see you. It feels almost like it would cleanse the barracks, free you from the fear in your mind. Allowing yourself to be so vulnerable out in the open could wipe away the worry that there’s someone around every corner, someone watching you. 
Getting railed by your alpha against the very door that separated you from the room that now held your worst nightmares might just fix you. 
But, just like everything else that’s happened recently, you don’t get that chance. 
John’s watch begins to beep in your ear, causing him to pull away from you. You let out a quiet whine as you’re forced apart, suddenly feeling chilled from the loss of warmth against you. 
John lets out a quiet sigh, leaning his forehead against yours. “I have to go.” 
You wish he didn’t. You’re half tempted to beg him to stay, to fuck his job, his duties. You want him to stay, to give all his attention to you, just for a few hours. You want him to erase the fear and the anxiety and fix you. 
“We’ll continue this later.” There’s a promise to his tone that he’s not done with you, a guarantee that you will get to continue this once the day is over, when he can go back to being your alpha instead of a captain. He leans in, kissing you once more. “Be a good girl for me, yeah?” 
You nod, watching him walk out of the barracks, the door closing softly behind him. You lean against your door for a few moments longer before letting out a breath. There’s still warmth swirling in your stomach, your underwear sticking to your damp folds. An idea pops into your head. You don’t want to go into your room, you don’t want to be in there alone right now. 
Instead you head for Price’s room, unbuttoning your pants as you close the door behind you. You strip out of your pants before you climb onto the bed, making yourself comfortable. You’re going to give him a little present, a little something in revenge for leaving you high and dry, a little something to help him look forward to tonight.
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Screaming. It’s all you can hear. It makes your ears ring and your head throb. Hands cling to you, nails biting into your skin. Something’s pulling on you, trying to rip you away. You’re stuck in a brutal tug of war. It hurts, but no one can hear you over the screaming. Tears are sliding down your cheeks, blazing a trail along your skin. You shouldn’t be crying, you shouldn’t be upset. 
He hates it when you cry. 
Alphas don’t cry. 
You’re not an alpha. 
You’ve committed the worst sin in his eyes, denying him the perfect pack. You’re a stain on his perfect ledger, a mistake that never should have happened. 
He’s going to make sure you’re wiped from memory, from history, just as he wants. 
“You can’t take her from me!” Your mother’s voice is frantic, her nails biting into your arm as she tries to pull you back into the safety of your arms. 
“She’s no daughter of mine.” Your father’s fingers dig painfully into your other arm, trying to pull you away from your mother, away from your life. He’s going to throw you out like you’re nothing more than trash. 
The screaming gets louder as you’re yanked from your mother’s hold, and you’re not sure if it’s her screams or your own piercing your ears. 
“We have to ensure the success of this program.” The voice has changed. It’s not the cruel hands of your father holding you anymore. “It’s imperative to the future of militaries around the world.” 
“No!” You scream, kicking, fighting, lashing out, but the hands won’t let go. They’re like a vice around you, like a constrictor slowly getting tighter and tighter. 
“All you have to do is be a good omega,” A hand slips around the back of your neck, your skin burning from the touch. The warning is screaming in your head, louder than the screams of protest spilling from your lips. “And do exactly as you’re told.” 
The fingers dig into your neck, your mind flashing for a second before it goes blank. 
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“No!” 
You move before you’re even fully awake, sitting up straight in bed. Your hands close around the back of your neck as you curl into yourself, taking a defensive, protective position. You can still feel the cold hand on your skin, the fingers biting into the sensitive spots on your neck. You’re crying, tears and snot dripping down your face as you press it against your knees. 
“No!” Another terrified cry leaves your lips as hands meet your skin, not cold or clammy, but warm and gentle. Your half asleep brain is stuck in your nightmare and can't rationalize the difference, not while you're perceiving everything as a threat. 
“Easy, easy.” A voice says, speaking quietly, calmly. You recognize that voice. It’s not one from your dreams. Arms slowly wind around you, pulling you against a warm chest. “I’ve got you. It was just a dream.” 
Your breaths are rapid and shaky as you slowly begin to come back to your senses. It was just a dream. You’re awake now. You know that voice. 
“Alpha?” You whimper, desperately seeking the confirmation that it’s really him, that you’re really awake and free from your nightmare. 
“I’m here.” He says, clutching you tightly against his chest. “Need you to breathe for me.” He pushes your head against his chest so you can feel his breaths. 
You’re still crying, your breaths catching in your chest almost painfully as you attempt to follow your alpha’s deep, steady breaths. His arms are still tight around you, pinning you against his chest. His beard tickles your forehead as he leans his chin against your head. He’s projecting his scent, the smell of earth and petrichor mixed with the musk of alpha seeping into your brain. 
“Good girl.” He praises you as you begin to relax, your joins unlocking from their stiffened positions, your muscles slowly loosening from how contracted they had been in your defensive position. You could have slipped into distress easily in that position, the level of fear higher than you’ve felt in a long time. 
He loosens his hold on you just slightly as you begin to unravel yourself as you calm down. Your hands are still clamped around the back of your neck, your fingers trembling from how stiffly they’re held against your most vulnerable spot. 
“Keep relaxing.” He says quietly, his lips brushing your hairline. “I’ve got you.” 
He continues to speak to you quietly, letting you work yourself out of your tense, defensive position. You slowly begin to slide your hands away from your neck as your mind begins to clear and you realize there’s no threat to you, nothing waiting just outside your line of vision to attack. Your alpha has you, you’re safe with him, well protected. 
The tears continue to fall, however, as you think back on your nightmare. It had felt so real, maybe because in a way it had been real. You had been pulled from your mother, from your home to the institute, then from the institute to the CIA, from the CIA to here and straight into General Shepherd's lap. 
“Promise me,” You gasp out, your voice hoarse from crying. “Tell me you’ll never scruff me.” 
“Never.” He says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I promise I’ll never scruff you.” 
You press your face into his chest, breathing out a quiet sigh of relief. He could always go back on his word, he could change his mind, decide you needed to be scruffed. You know it’s foolish, having those kinds of thoughts. He’s never once gone back on his word, never once proved himself untrustworthy to you. 
“I need to know if you've ever been scruffed before.” He asks, the authority slipping into his voice. 
A frown pulls at your brows. You can’t remember if you’ve ever been scruffed before. Was it possible you had, but had been made to forget? Everything you’ve learned about scruffing says you would know, even if you don’t remember what happened after. It’s a very distinct feeling returning to your mind afterwards. It’s just something you’d know.
“No? I-I don’t think so?” You say. “At least I can’t remember, but I think it’s one of those things that you would know if it happened.” 
“I’ve seen it happen, and I’ve seen the aftermath. You would know if it had ever happened to you.” 
His words bring a shred of relief to your worried mind. You don’t want to know, you don’t want to ask how he knows, why he knows. It’s not likely he would have been able to tell you anyway. Just another secret, just another thing kept in the dark. You knew from early on  they’d have their secrets, things they wouldn’t ever be able to tell you. You just never expected to have one of your own. 
You curl up closer against his chest, pushing the thoughts and the guilt hanging over your head away in favor of soaking up the calming presence of your alpha. For a moment, just a moment, you can imagine everything will be alright. What’s in the past will stay there and nothing will come back to haunt you. You can just move on, and pretend like nothing happened. 
You know it’s not true, but for just a moment, you can pretend that it is. 
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He hates it. 
He hates the way he feels. 
The subtle change to his heart rate, the way his insides feel like they’re fluttering, twisting. The disappointment eating him when his existence is ignored entirely in favor of those who were brave enough to open up, to allow you in. 
Why is he disappointed? He’s done nothing but brush you off, keep you desperately at arms length despite your attempts to wiggle in through the slowly widening cracks in his resolve. Cracks that were formed by your very insertion into their lives. They were happy, they were fine. Then you came along and fucked everything up. 
The worst part? 
He likes it. 
He wanted to hate you. For so long he fought that desire in him to be near an omega again, to be close enough to smell your sickeningly sweet scent. He tried to hate you, tried to ignore you, push you away from the walls he’s spent decades building up. Walls that threatened to crumble thanks to your very existence. 
He’s not sure when the change happened. It was gradual, a shift in his hatred that became fascination that quickly morphed into something more. Something forbidden. Maybe it was when you submitted to him during training, or maybe it was after your first time with Johnny when his beta had looked far too pleased, and shared the intimate details of what you had done to him far too easily. Johnny’s need to yap had won out and his beta’s words had caused a stirring in his stomach he hasn’t felt in a long time. 
A stirring he’d been able to ignore for so long. 
For a moment, just a moment there had been fleeting curiosity. Would you try to take control with him? What if he let you do it? How long could you keep it up before you tired out and your true nature took over? 
He stuffed those thoughts into the far recesses of his mind, refusing to allow them forward. He’s not getting soft, he’s not going to allow you any closer to his already cracking walls. 
He tells himself that, at least until they leave. Until he sees the effect you have on his pack. The ripples in the bonds, the changes that happen almost as soon as the ramp of the plane shuts, separating you from them for the first time since your arrival. 
He’s a good soldier. He can pretend nothing’s wrong, force the feelings into the back of his mind better than anyone. At least, that’s what he tells himself. 
It had hurt when you ignored him on your return, throwing yourself into Price’s arms desperately and clinging to him like he might disappear. The betas had sandwiched you between them, letting you cling to them desperately as you trembled and cried. It was pathetic, but not quite as pathetic as the bitterness and the sting of disappointment in his chest. 
He tried not to let himself feel it, tried to bury himself in his paperwork, tried to keep the feelings at bay, at least until Johnny had knocked on his door, mattress in tow telling him to get a blanket and head for Price’s room. 
It was Kyle’s idea. Had to be. Kyle is the most nurturing of the four of them, and judging by the state of you, he must have done it because he thought it would help. 
By the time he grew the balls to enter the makeshift nest, the betas had already sandwiched you between them, your form almost smothered completely under Johnny. Price had laid himself out on Kyle’s other side, and the space for him was made up of mostly Johnny’s mattress. It had to have been a deliberate move, meant for his own comfort. Sweet Johnny and his beta senses. He probably didn’t even realize what he’d done. It had just happened naturally. 
It’s at Johnny’s pestering insistence that he climbs into the nest finally, laying stiffly on the mattress behind his beta. It’s been a long time since he’s been in a nest. He doesn't sleep, not much anyway, but neither does Price. Both of them are too awake, too aware, too alert. The betas sleep peacefully and so do you, probably the most sleep you’ve gotten since your heat. 
The warmth in the room gets unbearable fast, the blankets quickly kicked to the end of the mattresses, along with his own sweatshirt. It’s like a sauna, and for a moment he considers opening the window, but he’s too afraid to move, too afraid to disturb the nest. 
It’s when Johnny gets up to go to the bathroom that you finally move, the first time in hours. You roll into the space he had vacated, lips slightly parted as you breathe in and out easily. Johnny, the bastard, takes your empty spot, trapping you between them. He turns his back to you in hopes you stay as still as you had before, which works for a while. At least, until he feels something press up against his back. He goes still, every muscle tensing as you bury your face between his shoulder blades. He should turn over, push you away. He should nudge you back towards Johnny, let you seek out his warmth instead. Yet, he can’t bring himself to move.
He shouldn’t like it. He can’t. He can’t allow you in, he can’t let you past his rapidly crumbling walls. Yet, he does like it. He wants to feel you pressed against him, he wants to see that hidden part of you that had brought his beta to his knees so easily. 
He’s supposed to be keeping his distance, and yet, here you are, forcing your way in again. It almost feels like a silent apology for yesterday, your subconscious picking up on his disappointment, and so now it’s offering him this moment in hopes he’ll forgive you. 
It’s working. 
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A quiet breath leaves your lips as you listen to the steady beating beneath your ear. The scent of coconut and saltwater floats in the air, taking your mind far away, back to a different time when things were simpler. Kyle’s calloused fingers trail across your arm, drawing absentminded patterns across your skin. You press your face against his warm skin, your hand splaying across his stomach. You can feel the ridges of his muscles, the way they flex with every breath. 
“What’s on your mind?” He asks, his lips brushing your forehead as he speaks. 
“Just thinking about when we used to go to the beach when I was younger. Back when my dad was stationed in North Carolina for a few months.” 
“You like the beach?” He asks. 
You nod. “Yeah. There’s just something calming about it. I don’t mind the sand and I like the sound of the waves hitting the shore.” 
“We could go to the beach.” He says, making you tilt your head up just slightly. “When the weather’s nicer, closer to summer. Take a few days off, go on a vacation.” 
“You could do that?” You ask, pushing yourself up on your elbow so you can see him fully. 
He smiles at you, his hand dropping to your back. “We do get to go on leave every so often, barring nothing urgent happens while we’re away. I’ll talk to Price about it. We can start making some plans, if you want.” 
You stare down at him, the softness in his gaze, the slight upward tilt of his lips. He might as well have just promised you the world with how he’s looking at you. Tears burn at the back of your eyes as you stare at him. You don’t deserve it, you don’t deserve such kindness, such care after lying to them. You can trust Kyle. He’d be the least angry, at least towards you, if you confessed right now. It would be so easy, but you’re not sure you could stand watching the love and happiness fade from his eyes as you confessed to your stupidity, your deception. 
“What is it?” He asks, his brows furrowing. Of course he’d pick up on the shift of your emotions, the sudden anxiety twisting in your stomach. “We don’t have to go to the beach. We could do something else, or nothing at all.” 
“It’s not that.” You say, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I just...I don’t deserve you. All of you. You’re too good to me.” 
“Oh, love, that’s not true.” He says, gently cupping your cheek. “I think it’s quite the opposite, actually. You’re too good for us. The things we’ve seen, the things we’ve done. We’re not good people, and yet we were blessed with an absolute angel.”
Tears gather in your eyes for a different reason now. You certainly don’t feel like an angel. You’re too broken and you’ve lied and made stupid mistakes. “I’m hardly an angel.” 
“Well, in comparison to us, you are.” He gently presses against your back, drawing you closer to his face. “Our angel, our sweet little omega.” 
A shiver runs down your spine from the way your status sounds from his lips. His hand slides to the back of your head, pulling you down so your forehead is pressed against his. You can feel his breath on your lips, your tongue darting out to wet your own in anticipation. 
He tastes like mint toothpaste, his tongue immediately pushing past the seam of your lips. His kiss steals your breath away, his hand tangling in your hair to keep you in place as he licks into your mouth. Your hand settles on his chest for balance, feeling his heart racing under your palm. 
You shift over him, throwing a leg across his hips as you settle against his chest. His hand releases your hair, tracing a line down your spine to your hips. The shirt of his you had changed into before crawling into bed with him has ridden up, revealing the lacy panties you're sporting underneath. He groans against your lips as his fingers trace over the lace before slipping underneath, tugging them lightly. 
You pull away from his lips, staring down at him. “I’m gonna need more pairs of these at this rate.” 
“We’ll have to take a trip and pick up more.” He grins, snapping the waistband against your skin. 
You bite your lip, pressing yourself up so you’re sitting over his hips. You can feel the growing bulge beneath his shorts as you begin to grind against him. He’s gone commando, your clit catching on his head through the thin fabric. Your hands press into his stomach, feeling the muscles contract as your scent thickens in the air. His hands close around your hips, guiding you as you grind against him. His eyes are hooded as he stares up at you, his teeth sinking into his lower lip. 
You stare down into those big brown eyes, getting lost in the depth of them. If you could melt yourself into him, seep under his skin and become one with him, you would. He might be the most beautiful person you’ve ever laid eyes on. He might as well be sculpted from marble, or pulled right from a piece of artwork. 
You shift so you’re leaning forward, your clit dragging against his stomach as you continue moving your hips. You grasp his chin, fingers digging into his cheeks. “You’re so fucking pretty, it’s not fair.” 
He chuckles, giving you a dazzling, perfect smile. “Thank you, love.” He wraps his arms around you, pushing himself up to sit so you drop into his lap. “But I’m nothing compared to you right now.” 
He keeps you grinding against his lap, his hands squeezing your ass as you soak the front of his shorts with every drag of your hips. Your head falls back as you moan, the friction against your clit quickly pushing you towards an orgasm. 
“Haven’t even touched you yet and got you all worked up. You could cum just like this, couldn’t you?” He nips playfully at your lips, sliding his hand down further to press against your lace covered pussy. 
You let out a whine, releasing your hold around his shoulders long enough to tug off your shirt. He curses quietly as your skin is revealed to him, his hands trailing up your back. 
“Fucking hell, love.” He groans, pushing his hips up into you. 
“Kyle,” You moan his name, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Need you.” 
He curses again, wrapping his arms around your waist for leverage as he flips you over onto your back. He sits up on his knees, trailing his hands down your sides until he reaches the waistband of your panties, trailing his fingers across the lace for a moment. 
“You alright?” He asks, checking in with you. 
You nod, lifting your feet so they press against his chest. “You gonna take them off already?” 
He grins, sliding his fingers under the waistband of your underwear, pulling them down your legs before tossing them to the floor. He parts your thighs to give himself room as he pulls off his own shorts, his cock springing free from the confining fabric. Your mouth waters as you stare at it, your teeth sinking into your lip in anticipation. 
“Fuck,” He breathes as he pushes your thighs further apart, dark eyes glued to your glistening folds. 
He slides his hands down your thighs, his thumb ghosting over your clit. Your hips jerk in response, pushing up against his hand. He chuckles, repeating the motion, watching the way your lips part in a moan. 
“Always so sensitive.” He smirks, pressing his thumb into the bundle of nerves. “Even after Price fucked you senseless a couple nights ago.” 
Your face warms at his words, your stomach fluttering excitedly. Of course they had heard you. You’ve long given up on trying to hide what goes on behind their closed doors. They all know, they already knew from the first night you spent with John. 
He had been rather rough that night, fucking you into the mattress so hard the headboard had scraped some of the prison grey paint off the walls. You had asked for it, though, both of you needing the raw, carnal release it had given you. 
“Yeah, we all heard that.” Kyle continues, slowly circling your clit with his thumb as he speaks. “Sounded like a couple of animals in there. If you hadn’t been screaming his name over and over, we might have been worried he’d mauled you to death. Simon and I had to keep Johnny occupied so he wasn’t tempted to join you.” 
Your pussy flutters at the thought of the three of them together, riled up by you and John. You can almost picture it, Johnny in Simon’s lap, bouncing on his cock while Kyle sucks him off from the front. Or did Johnny submit to both and suck Kyle’s cock while Simon took him from behind? Or was Simon more of a giver and sucked him off while Kyle fucked him? Or did Simon take both of them after making them both suck his cock? 
The endless stream of thoughts has your pussy clenching, slick dribbling out of you as your legs start to shake. It’s almost too much with the pressure against your clit, your body heating from the fire ignited in your veins. 
“Liked that, didn’t you?” Kyle smirks, removing his hand from your clit to lean down over you. “Maybe next time we’ll squeeze you in right in the middle. Would you like that?” 
You nearly cum from his words alone, your hands grasping at his shoulders. “Fuck, Kyle! I need you inside me right now.” 
“So impatient.” He tsks, leaning forward to bite at your lips. “Such a needy little omega.” 
“Please!” You almost sob, lifting your hips to press against his. “I need you.” 
He shushes you, pressing a soft kiss against your lips before sitting back up onto his knees. He shifts slightly closer to you, propping your legs up over his thighs. His hand fists his cock, pumping the hard length a couple times before he drags the head through your folds. You whine impatiently, trying to lift your hips to grind against him but he presses a hand into your stomach, pinning you against the bed. 
“Patience.” He scolds you, sending a shiver down your spine. 
He drags his head through your folds a couple more times before he finally presses into you, stretching you open. You go lax on the bed, relaxing around him as he rocks his hips into you, sinking in deeper with every movement. 
You reach for him as he sinks completely into you, pulling him down so he’s hovering over you. He presses his lips to yours, kissing you softly as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him as close as you can. His arms slip around your back as he begins grinding against you, his thrusts shallow and soft. It’s so very different from how John had taken you just a couple days ago. Kyle has always been softer, gentler, more passionate than rough and eager. 
You moan softly against his lips, your legs wrapping around his waist to keep him locked against you. You want to get closer to him, but you’re not sure you can get closer than you already are. Bodies pressed together, his cock inside you, lips pressed to yours as he holds you. There’s a prickling under your skin, an urge to devour him, to keep him here forever. He snaps his hips into you harder, his lips trailing down to your throat, sucking at the sensitive skin. You tilt your head to the side, your eyes widening as a gasp leaves your lips. Your fingers dig into Kyle’s side, his head snapping to the side, sensing the disturbance in the room. 
“Don’t stop on my account.” John leans against the closed door, a cigar in his hand. 
You’re not sure how long he’s been there, how he got in without either of you noticing. Kyle especially, since he was usually so in tune with his surroundings. Pride flashes through you at the thought of him being so lost in you, he can’t focus on anything else. The scent of tobacco washes over you as John takes a long drag from his cigar. He must not have been there long, or maybe you’ve just been so caught up in Kyle’s scent you hadn’t noticed. 
Kyle is frozen above you as John pushes off the door, approaching the bed slowly. Kyle shifts above you so he can hold John’s gaze as he stops at the edge of the bed. Excitement swirls in your stomach as you stare up at him in anticipation of what he’s going to do. His hand lifts, dragging down Kyle’s back to his ass. 
John delivers a harsh slap to his cheek, Kyle’s hips snapping into yours in response as a moan leaves his lips. “Did I tell you to stop, soldier?” 
“No, sir.” Kyle grunts out, starting to rock his hips into yours again. 
You watch the change happen almost immediately, the natural shift between them. Kyle’s not in charge anymore, quickly handing over control to John despite the fact he’s the one inside of you. It’s a subtle submission, yet you can sense the changes in them both. 
John massages Kyle’s ass for a moment before shifting so he’s closer to you. You stare up at him, lips parted as you whimper quietly. “There’s my pretty girl.” He praises you as he leans down, brushing his thumb over your lips before pushing it into your mouth. You close your lips around his thumb, sucking on it. “Such a good girl, isn’t she?” 
“Yes, sir.” Kyle grunts, continuing to thrust into you harder than he had been before. 
John takes another drag from his cigar as you moan around his thumb, your hands gripping the sheets as Kyle continues to thrust into you, the head of his cock dragging across that spot inside you from the angle he’s at. Moans slip from Kyle’s lips as you clench around him, his own hands digging into the sheets. Sweat has beaded across his forehead, a droplet sliding down his cheek to his neck, leaving a trail as it slowly drips down his chest. Drool slips out of your mouth around John’s thumb. You want to lick the sweat from his chest. You want to taste him. 
John slips his thumb from your lips, dragging it across your chin, smearing saliva all over your skin. “Look at her.” He says, moving so he’s looking over Kyle’s shoulder. “Drooling already and you haven’t even made her cum yet, have you?” His hand slips around the back of Kyle’s neck, his fingers digging into the sensitive skin. “You gonna make her cum like a good boy?” 
Kyle lets out a moan, his pace stuttering just slightly. “Yes, sir.” He grits out, picking up the pace as he slams into that spot inside you with every movement. 
John takes a step back, continuing to smoke as he watches the two of you. It’s almost too much between Kyle fucking you and John watching. There’s a coil tightening in your stomach, the pleasure intensifying more and more. A fire has started under your skin, your eyes glued to John’s as Kyle pushes you closer and closer to the peak. 
You hold John’s gaze as you cum, your back arching in pleasure. Kyle doesn’t stop, continuing to thrust into you as he chases his own high. 
John waits until your moans have died down before he moves, stubbing out his cigar on Kyle’s nightstand before he grasps Kyle by the hips, stopping his movements. “Switch places with our girl.” He murmurs into Kyle’s ear, Kyle taking a second to breathe before he wraps his arms around you, flipping you back around so you’re on top again as John kicks off his shoes. 
Your hands press into Kyle’s stomach to hold yourself steady, your legs still shaking from your orgasm. John climbs on the bed behind you, his clothed chest pressing against your bare, sweat slicked back. 
“Gonna be a good girl and make him cum?” John says quietly, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. 
A shiver runs down your spine as you nod, starting to rock your hips just slightly. John’s hands settle on your waist, helping you move as you begin to bounce on Kyle’s cock. Kyle’s eyes are wide as he watches you and his alpha, John pressing kisses across your shoulders and neck as he helps you fuck his beta. Kyle’s hands grip your thighs, fingers indenting the skin as he holds on for dear life. 
“That’s it.” John praises you, shifting your body forward just slightly so Kyle’s cock drags across that spot inside you with your every movement. You clench around him, your thighs tightening around his hips. 
“Fuck...” Kyle moans, his own hips bucking up into yours. 
“Gonna make him cum?” John asks, his hands abandoning your hips. One snakes around your stomach to rub your clit while the other slips behind you to squeeze Kyle's balls. 
Kyle lets out a loud moan, his hips snapping up against yours as your walls clamp tightly around him. You can feel the warm ropes of his release spurting inside you, increasing the pressure as you cum a second time on his cock. 
John works you both through your orgasms, your entire body shaking by the time he releases you, pushing you forward against Kyle's chest. You lay there, your cheek pressed against his sweaty skin, ass in the air right in John's face. He watches as Kyle's seed begins to seep out of you, forced out by the aftershocks of your orgasm. He drags his fingers through your folds, gathering Kyle's cum before pushing it back into you. You moan softly from the stretch of his fingers against your sensitive walls, pushing your hips back against his hand.
“Don't want to waste any of that.” John says, nipping at the globe of your ass cheek. “You know Kyle likes to clean you up himself.”
You let out a quiet moan, your pussy fluttering around John’s fingers. You’re about to be in for a very long night. 
NEXT ->
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astrow1zar6 · 27 days ago
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Astro Observations- 38
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Aries suns with Scorpio moons can be big adrenaline junkies. They need to do something dangerous that makes them feel alive. They can be extreme sometimes such as fast driving, mixing substances ect. They don’t feel like they’re living if they aren’t experiencing enough intensity. They should learn to focus this energy in healthier ways such as maybe exercising and sports.
Pisces Mercury’s often did art to express their emotions when younger. I’ve seen Pisces Mercurys who struggled to logically explain how they feel so they would draw or make crafts to show what they were feeling. Their emotions a lot of the times are too complex and intense to explain with only words. They work better with visuals. They could’ve also been better visual learners compared to people giving straightforward instructions when in a classroom setting (they are usually very imaginative).
Mars in Scorpios can have a hard time keeping friends and partners because of how intense they can be. When hurt they can say some really scary fucked up things that can make people want to distance themselves away. ESPECIALLY when they get jealous. They can be super cut throat with their words.
Taurus Venus’s usually came from households where they were exposed to really good food. Either they had enough money in their childhoods to afford high quality ingredients or they came from a family who cooked a lot. This can cause them to be natural cooks themselves. Usually indulged a lot as a child.
Aquarius suns either give IT girl/boy too cool for you vibes or they’re complete weirdos with a school shooter vibe no in between.
I believe Taurus suns are way more jealous than Scorpio suns
Leo moons tend to be the most awkward Leo placement. They have this dorkiness about them which most people don’t expect but I’ve seen it a lot. They can also be very childishly dramatic about very minor problems. Any little inconvenience is seen as a tragedy. However they usually are extremely talented in one area (usually art related) I’ve seen a lot of musicians and drama kids have this placement.
I’d love to have a Sagittarius moon yall seem like you generally don’t give a f*ck what people think and I’m here for it. Such a happy moon sign. However your good vibes 24/7 attitude can make others believe you’re insensitive or shallow.
I notice a lack of fire in the chart can cause a person to go into depression easier. It’s harder to be optimistic.
Venus in 2nd house isn’t just about being rich it also has to do with self esteem as well! When these people are really on the right path they can live such a favorable life! These are the girls you see on YouTube who’s morning routine is waking up at 6, eating a balanced breakfast, moisturize and exfoliate and exercise all before 8 lmao. Usually they don’t start making good money until they fix their self worth but once they do it’s like they flow with the universe without much obstacles. But when struggling with your self esteem you can become bad with your money and be very greedy and jealous of others success so be careful!
Venus in 7th house people are so lucky with relationships. It’s like they just slide into romantic relationships so easily & naturally. So many people want to cuff them up it’s insane. They tend to get along with a lot of different personalities. Very diverse people which attracts people to them like magnets. However, they can be very codependent and do poorly when alone.
Pisces suns are either extremely wise or super foolish and immature. They also always look like they don’t know what’s going on whether they actually do or really don’t😭 even if they are listening to everything your saying it looks like they have nothing going on in their minds like they got a lobotomy lmao (sometimes tho they really don’t know what’s going on, especially Pisces mercs)
Mercury in Capricorns are normally super smart. Street wise and book wise. They can come off as intimidating tho sometimes because of how intelligent they come off. They also have a vibe that can lowkey make people feel unwelcome like you’re too dumb to talk to them💀 (similar to cap risings). They tend to surround themselves with people older/more mature than them they can really get put off but younger acting energies.
Sag risings can be SOOO loud. Especially when they get excited or drunk.
Having a Sun in Aries and a Cancer moon seems like the most difficult sun/moon placements to have together. You have this tough exterior and such a vulnerable interior that no one knows about so people usually treat you harshly not knowing it’s really hard for you to take that☹️ also struggles a lot with being vulnerable to anyone.
Every Pisces Mars woman I’ve ever met was so dazzling to look at. They have such an ultra feminine nature that’s almost ethereal.
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onlyswan · 5 months ago
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dreamboat | jjk (1)
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summary: aboard the dreamboat, jungkook finds himself drawn to a beautiful stranger who appears to be drowning in melancholy. weeks later, he sees her face on the other side of the aquarium at his apartment building’s lobby. he soon learns that it’s not fate’s grand romantic plans that brought you back to his life. / (alt.) / a shipwreck and a dreamboat form an unusual bond in an aquarium.
non!idoljk x f!reader (jk is a business major who works at the amusement park ; oc works at the call center) / strangers to lovers / fluff, angst, suggestive / chapter wc: 14.9k / total fic wc: 30.8k
warnings/content (for full fic): is it an onlyswan fic if nobody cries? ; smoking ; making out ; mention of nude art ; mention of flashing ; panic attack ; a ghost cameo lol ; s*x scandal ; abuse of authority ; harrassment ; jk throws a punch once ; oc drives a motorbike without a helmet once ; vminjin + yeontan cameos :3 ; tae and jk are the same age tho
-> part two (wc: 15.9k) | spotify playlist (open to song recs <3)
note: my not so little summer project <3 i thought i wouldn’t have the opportunity to dedicate this much time to writing again in the near future so here we are! finishing this story alone felt fulfilling but even more so that i get to share it with you. pls treat it with gentle care 🫂 reblogs and feedback r very much appreciated i love talking to you guys🥺 special thanks to my lovely rio for proofreading and being the sweetest friend :") ilyily
࿐ for those who yearn <3
“wait! wait for me! don’t close it yet!”
jungkook’s whole life has led up to this moment. 
from running away from his neighbor’s large snobby dogs during childhood— to participating in run for charity marathons mostly, only mostly, to appease his ex-girlfriend by being interested in her interests.
he successfully escaped from his uneventful class today by faking dizziness. half an hour later, he is racing towards one of the few places in this city where he feels something. 
his best friend’s face is still blurry given the distance, but jungkook doesn’t need to clearly see taehyung’s face to know that he is looking at him unimpressed. 
“why are you here? do you even have a ticket?!” taehyung interrogates him once he reaches the gate.
“do i have a ticket? really?” jungkook smirks, tossing his backpack to the ground. 
he crosses over to the other side, and with ease, sneaks his hand in between the bars to push the lock into place. 
“what do you think i work here for?” 
taehyung sighs and mumbles to himself. “fine, my bad. thought we worked to pay for our bills.”
he picks up the backpack and swings it over his shoulder, heading to the control booth. on the other hand, jungkook climbs on the ship the amusement park owner lovingly named the dreamboat. he places his grip on one of the many vines curiously large butterflies are attached to, fully ignoring the existence of the steps. he hoists himself up onto the wooden floor with ease. 
unhappy faces with blank stares. 
he smiles at them cheerfully.
“i apologize for the hold-up. i’m your captain!” 
“jungkook! sit!” 
“wouldn’t he be the captain?” a high school boy at the very front quips, eyes pointing downwards at taehyung. 
“eh, more like the wind behind our sails.” he ruffles the boy’s head in passing as he trudges over to his desired seat. 
“what?”
his spot, a more suitable better term. the farthest row which most first timers do not dare to sit at; the part of the ship closest to the sky when it swings back and forth, higher and higher, until it feels like he’s going to fall off— but he doesn’t. for short bursts of moments, he’s flying. 
the passengers are erupting in ear-splitting screams, curses, and laughter. the wide smile plastered on his face could probably be described as sadistic as he observes their reactions. most would find this ride as a nauseating, life-threatening ordeal and its name ridiculously ironic. however, to jungkook, this is what it means to be alive.
he imagined he would be alone here again today.
but as he is brought higher into the air, he discovers one person strapped to the last row of the other side of the ship. 
the earth begins to move in slow motion. 
they have their face buried in their palms, body shaking with what he can only guess is intense sobbing. 
gone is the smile on his face. 
jungkook has witnessed a few criers, sure, but not to this degree. a wave of sadness washes over him. he feels guilty and he doesn’t know why. why the hell would he be? he doesn’t even know who you are. 
are you that scared? if you’re scared, why would you volunteer to go here alone? if not, then why is your heart breaking? 
for a few seconds, the noises cease and his focus on you becomes amplified. 
and why is his breaking too? 
your sobs and gasps for air are once more drowned out by the fear and adrenaline of the majority. nevertheless, the ache they caused in his chest stays. 
what could it be? the reason you’re crying like this at an amusement park? wouldn’t it be because you got stood up by your date?
lost in thought, he’s been unblinking. the wind blows as the speed of the boat picks up and he groans when dirt gets into his eye. he harshly rubs and rubs and he stops to check if it’s gone… he knows it’s gone because now he can see clearly— one of the most beautiful people he has laid his eyes upon.
the wind blows into your hair and it finally grants him a good view of your face. red, swollen eyes and mascara running. you wipe your tears away, distant eyes falling on your lap, and you take a sharp inhale. you’re a tragedy and so gorgeous still that the aching of his heart doubles due to its intensified pounding. 
there’s no way… he debunks his theory. there’s no way a man could ever waste the opportunity of going on a date with you. only a fool. 
slow motion comes to a full stop.
shit, shit, shit. 
why can’t he look away? 
you’ve made eye-contact and you’re not breaking it. 
he nervously swallows the lump in his throat.
“huh?”
the ringing of the bell snaps him out of… whatever that experience was. he looks around and it is revealed to him that the ship has returned to its neutral position. passengers are already hopping off, including you.
wait, including you… 
when did you get a cap?!
“fuck!” he curses, kicking his feet in annoyance.
he then proceeds to break the promise he swore to himself: never run after a girl again. 
“yah, jungkook! where are you going?! you need to clock in!”
taehyung releases yet another sigh as he loses his best friend among the crowd. nearly at the same time, he hears a thud that originates from the control booth. he blankly stares at the backpack that mysteriously fell off the chair. 
“does he have snacks in here at least?”
blue tube top and black baseball cap worn backwards. blue top and black cap. blue top and black cap. jungkook chants in his head like a maniac as he navigates the grounds, trying his best not to lose sight of your back. sweat has started to form as beads on his forehead. he squeezes one eye shut, wary of the sting, before wiping them away with the back of his hand. 
he ran with all his might, but now that you’re almost within reach, he’s suddenly nervous.
“miss- miss! you dropped this!” 
you turn around abruptly so his fingers end up only grazing your arm. the first thing he notices is your knitted eyebrows. he doesn’t know whether it mostly indicates annoyance or confusion. 
you merely glance at the handkerchief on his open palm. “it’s not mine.” 
you walk away from him and you are a magnet he is curiously drawn to. 
he stands in front of you, sweaty and stuttering like a student introducing himself to a class for the very first time. 
“but are you okay? i-i couldn’t help but to notice that you were cry- uh, uhm… you-you seem to  have troubles.” 
he clears his throat, turning his cheek for a second as to avoid melting under your intense gaze. he marvels at your beauty but he can’t pull himself together to admire it from a close distance. 
“sorry, i don’t mean to pry. i’m just concerned.” 
seconds pass and he doesn’t receive any sort of answer. no affirmative nod; not even a roll of the eyes. you stare at his face blankly as your feet become rooted into the ground. strands of your hair dance with gusts of the wind. it could be a haunting sight. your glossy eyes are reminiscent of deep, turbulent waters. there was a twinge of doubt on the accuracy of his words before, however, it now seems to ring true. 
could it really be because of a boy?
a bicycle enters his line of vision. 
a little too close not to cause an accident. 
“move!” he yells out the warning, but he still takes matters into his own hands by pushing you over to the side and using his own body as a shield. 
the bicycle speeds past and the rider screams something unintelligible. 
jungkook’s nostrils flare. “kid, that’s not allowed in here! where did you come from?!” 
the security guard running after the rule-breaker moves past him, but not before hitting his back with the baton. 
“jungkook! why didn’t you stop him?!”
“yah! what was that for?!” 
he scoffs, glaring towards the direction of the intruder and his co-staff, who has an entirely different job from him. why didn’t he stop him?! 
while he was distracted by the commotion, he was also unaware that you managed to swipe the handkerchief loosely hanging from his grip around your arm. 
his angry expression softens. 
you wipe away your tears that are freely flowing against your will. earlier, you were sobbing. right now, your face is devoid of any expression. he can’t decide which is more heartbreaking.
“are you okay?” he carries on to ask again despite the both of you knowing the answer, but he just doesn’t know what else to do. 
“i’m okay,” you say. “thanks for finding my handkerchief… and for saving me from the- the, yeah…” 
you’re about to walk out of his life until his mouth blurts out- “wait! take this!” 
he wishes the ground would swallow him whole. you blink at the small packet of sour gummies on his open palm and he wishes the ground would swallow him whole. 
even he thinks this is ridiculous. he had a handkerchief in the left pocket of his jacket and now it’s yours. he had gummy worms in the right and for some reason he also wants you to have it.
“why?”
he has the same question.
“just because…”
no, that won’t do it.
“maybe it could make you feel better.”
oh my god.
“if you decide to ride the spinning top… it helps when you’re nauseated.”
still with the unreadable expression, you probe no further and accept his edible remedy. 
“thank you.” you politely bow before taking your leave.
he doesn’t run after you this time. after all, his pockets are empty. 
meeting you— this is probably the first and last time. 
he exhales through his mouth. disappointed. he turns around and tries to look for you again. 
blue top and black cap… 
there you are. 
leaving- 
wait. 
the spark of hope quickly fizzles out. you pull your hand out of your pocket, tossing something into one of the trash bins. he’s too far away to identify the item, but it couldn’t be… right?
he huffs in sheer disbelief.
“huh, she’s pretty and rude.” 
if he’s being honest, jungkook doesn’t like this job much. graphic design is there, and it’s been a pretty sweet gig especially when he’s desperate for extra cash. anyway, taehyung got this job first, which took away time from their regular hangouts, so he would often visit his best friend during his free periods at the university. long story short, one of the managers scolded them both for playing around throughout taehyung’s shift, and as a punishment, she employed jungkook.  
she is the reason why he is spending his sunday morning putting on strangers’ seatbelts and lap bars so they won’t fall off the rollercoaster and die. he was trained to double-check everything, but he is a bit more paranoid about lawsuits than the management, so despite the extra waiting time some passengers aren’t happy about, he makes that triple. 
as fast as he can, while maintaining meticulousness, he does his final round of checking. so far, everyone is safely strapped to their seats. until he reaches the last row and finds the only person there with their lap bar unlocked. how did he miss that? 
“ma’am, your lap bar isn’t secured. do you mind if i-”
the woman shakes her head without a word. as he gets to work, his eyes can’t help but to stray. most of her face is hidden by a face mask and sunglasses. it’s kind of funny because it’s actually been a gloomy day. 
“ah, there you go. safe and sound!” 
“thanks,”
he flashes her a bright smile. the last and apparently most important employee rule.  
“you’re welcome!” 
 
“why aren’t you eating?” taehyung asks with a mouthful of corndog. 
jungkook lifts his head up from the table, sends him a glare, then drops it again. he didn’t get much sleep last night studying for their upcoming tests. he’d much rather spend his whole lunch break with his eyes closed. he’d go as far as saying that moving his jaw to chew food sounds like exerting too much energy and he couldn’t be bothered.
“change shifts with me. i fucking hate sundays.” 
“depends…” taehyung pretends to be in deep thought. “will you buy me a meal everyday until our shifts rotate again?”
“do you want to die?” 
“no, but it looks like you will before me.” 
jungkook yawns, sleepy tears flowing down his temple. “you might be right…”
“were you up all night thinking of that girl?” 
“huh? no.”
“you’re lying.”
“shut up,” he groans, adjusting himself into a more comfortable position. 
so a beautiful stranger has been plaguing his mind. big deal! happens to the best of us. 
taehyung cackles at his demise, thoroughly amused. “why? didn’t she throw away your gift?” 
“it wasn’t a gift.” he argues. “and i know, she’s exactly my type.” 
“bro, you’re fucking hopeless.”
“i know that too,” he calmly replies. “i kind of miss her.” 
“at least it’s not your ex anymore, i guess.” taehyung mutters before obnoxiously sipping on his strawberry lemonade. “want to sneak into the security camera room? i’m curious. i want to see her.”
“can’t you just let me sleep?!” 
“wow, you’re so grumpy today.” 
took him long enough to deduce.
“then should we go after your nap?” 
“i need to work!” jungkook snaps. he straightens his back, rubbing his face in frustration. “go- go do whatever you want!”
taehyung’s chewing slows down, appearing almost scared at his best friend’s outburst, but everything is a game with the two of them. “but i don’t know what she looks like.” 
jungkook sighs, squeezing his eyes shut. 
“okay, fine!” 
in a state of exaggerated panic, taehyung gathers his things in one clean sweep, cradling them in his arms. 
“i’m leaving!” he dashes out of the break room as if he’s running for his life. 
jungkook huffs out a laugh at the comedic scene. as soon as his smile drops, so does his head. 
 
it’s past midnight, which means it’s already friday. jungkook has been glued to the computer for the past three hours, working on a brochure he was commissioned to make. this task would go along smoothly if only his client didn’t have such a long list of demands, but alas, he is desperate for a good review after his past client’s four paragraph-long criticism. a boomer’s opinions hardly matter to him, but he knows how a single bad review alone can negatively affect reputation. 
one thing’s for sure, everyone’s making it hard for him to fucking quit energy drinks. 
he tosses the empty can into the trash bin beside his desk. away with his anti-radiation glasses, too. it lands in an awkward position over his keyboard. he couldn’t care less. everything hurts. 
he keeps his eyes closed as he stretches his fingers, neck, and back with strained moans and grunts. the sweet relief causes him to slump lazily on his chair. at that moment, an internal battle starts. should he do the responsible thing and continue working? or should he just say fuck it and go to bed? 
“no but seriously! why would she throw them away?!” 
completely unrelated. 
a thousand miles away from the topic at hand. 
“jungkook!” taehyung growls from the bed, furiously pressing at the buttons of the controller. “it’s been two weeks! when are you going to move on?” 
jungkook spins the chair to face him with a deadpan expression. the ps5 hogger is too focused on the television screen to even notice. 
“you wouldn’t expect it but those aren’t cheap.”
“then maybe you shouldn’t have given it away to a stranger.” taehyung shrugs. “but that’s just me.” 
“that was out of my control.” jungkook defends. “you should’ve seen her.” 
“well, you wouldn’t let me.” taehyung mumbles, but he obviously wanted him to hear. “no thanks. crying at the amusement park? she’s got to have some real issues.” 
“so what? we all got issues.” 
“not me,” he sends jungkook a smirk. “if i don’t acknowledge them, they’re not there.” 
“and that, my friend…” jungkook has decided to retire from his work area tonight. he pats taehyung’s shoulder as a display of faux sympathy. “is your biggest issue.” 
wearing a childish grin, he grabs the other controller from the floor.
“now, shall we rank up?” 
 
it’s been a few days since summer vacation started. he normally comes home to busan during the school breaks for a temporary taste of childhood bliss. he spends the entire day watching television, eating home-cooked meals, and not thinking about requirements at all.
too bad his vacation is suspended due to his adult responsibilities. 
at least that’s the excuse he used. 
his family has been staying with relatives for the past month because their home is currently under renovation. and well, jungkook’s dorm is suffocating enough on his own. staying under one roof with nine other people? hard. pass.
he may or may not be regretting that decision now, however. all of a sudden, coming home from work with a bag full of ramyeon and beer feels too depressing. even more so that he has no one to share them with. all of his friends have gone home. taehyung, too. he found someone who could temporarily fill in his place and did not think twice about leaving jungkook behind. he can’t blame him.
jungkook enters the apartment building. as always, quiet and dim. he gets that the owner is trying to save money, but isn’t it a bit too early to start turning off the lights? he rolls his eyes despite the lack of a witness. 
they are very lucky that he has grown somewhat fond of this place.
jungkook allows himself to be roped in by the only source of warm light in the lobby. he finds himself incredibly silly for being entertained by goldfishes swimming around in an aquarium, but after a hectic day, this is where his brain cools down. 
“hello everyone,” he coos at them.
do fishes even react to baby talk? he wouldn’t know. the only pet that lasted him years and is still alive is their family dog, gureum. 
“how was your day? i hope it was better than mine.” 
 
on the other side of the aquarium stands you, watching a boy talk to the fishes while he is blissfully unaware of your presence. an endeared smile graces your face unbeknownst to you. 
eventually, there arrives a moment when most of the fishes favor a certain side and they clear out before his eyes. 
that is when he finally notices you. 
your heart begins to race, but he appears to be more shocked than you are. you stand up straight nearly at the same time. 
despite the dark, they’re impossible to miss. his breathtaking eyes— which were filled with pure wonder and adoration only seconds ago— growing in size as soon as they saw yours. 
“i know you…” 
a bucket of ice cold water is dumped over your head. 
“the girl who cried at the dreamboat!”
and while you do not appreciate the rather ungentlemanly pointing of finger, you’re glad to be able to breathe out a sigh of relief. 
well, and there’s also the crippling shame.
you didn’t want your first impression on anyone to be the most pitiful version of yourself. 
it’s been over a month for fuck’s sake. how does he remember your face so well?
“wow,” he gapes. “you changed your hair.”
you touch your hair, feeling a little conscious. 
is that a good thing or a bad thing? 
it’s your first time changing your hair color; plus, the last time you had bangs was in middle school. it’s been weeks since you had the big transformation, but you’re not quite sure how you feel about it yet. 
“yeah, light pink…” 
“it suits you well.” 
“thanks,” is all you manage to respond with. 
a gust of awkward silence passes by. there’s the instinct to run away— knocking at your brain, pulling at your limbs. but you can’t think of an excuse. your feet won’t move… eventually you stop minding that. the goldfishes are too beautiful to look away from. they work as the perfect distraction from the other soul standing across. 
“so, um- i’ve never seen you around here.”
“i moved in today.”
“oh, i see… that makes sense.” 
you hum to fill the quietness that follows, thinking of what else you could say, but he beats you to it.
“i live at the 13th floor.“ 
what did he say? do you live on the same floor? that’s impossible.
“how about you?” 
“hm, 10!” 
you blurt out the first number that pops into your mind. you quickly pretend like you’re not freaking out inside by shifting the topic.
“do they-” you gesture to the aquarium. “do they have names?”
“names?” 
the random question seems to catch him off guard.
“none that i’m aware of.” he shakes his head. “i don’t think so- no.”
“oh…” your shoulders sag in disappointment. “that’s sad.”
but then again, you should’ve lowered your expectations and reminded yourself where you are. they were not bought as pets. they were bought for display. 
 
the last time jungkook saw you was over a month ago. maybe your face is a tad different because you’re not crying. the new color of your hair compliments you in a way unlike before’s yet just as beautiful. the bangs make much of the difference too. he doesn’t know how old you are, but you look younger somehow. from his point-of-view, he could say that much has changed. but not the melancholia. 
he watches you gaze into the aquarium in fascination; the lights reflect on your eyes as little twinkling stars. you’re not crying, but why can he still feel your sadness? 
he once told taehyung that if you meet again, he’d give you hell for throwing his sour gummies away. 
funny enough, that plan went out the window the second he laid his eyes on you again. 
“do you want to feed them?” he offers. 
“i already did.”
“you did?”
“i did,” you look up at him innocently, nodding. “i asked the guard.”
“aish, he didn’t tell me.” he throws his arms up with a groan. “i almost overfed them.”
you perk up with interest. “do you always feed them?” 
“when i come home from work.”
“that’s nice…” 
the soft smile you give him makes his heart skip a beat, but he doesn’t know it yet. 
“sorry, um-” you begin smoothing out your clothes, also tucking your hair behind your ears. “i need to get to work. it was nice meeting you.”
“work?” he exclaims. “at this time?”
“graveyard shift,” you simply answer. 
pictures of the dark alleyways immediately flash in his mind. 
“but it’s dangerous to be roaming around here at this time.” 
his radar doesn’t detect crimes being reported around the neighborhood, but with the majority of the building’s occupants being young adults, the streets are often littered with drunkards who have many things to be angry about.
“oh, i don’t walk. i’ve got a bike.”
he hasn’t known you long, but this is the most enthusiastic he has seen you. your face lit up as soon as you mentioned your mode of transportation.
however, he is a tiny bit confused.
it shows on his face, apparently.
“the motor kind,” you clarify. 
“ah, the motor kind-” he claps once as soon as the realization dawns on him. he chuckles to himself. “of course!” 
it was important for you to clarify, jungkook concludes from your tone. the fact that you own a bike is sexy, but you look adorable right now and it is so amusing to him. 
“anyway, i need to go. it was nice to meet you!” 
your heels click against the floor as you head towards the same door he walked in from.
“see you around!” he yells, still wearing a wide grin. 
he remains standing there even though you’re already gone from sight. 
hit with a useless yet concerning epiphany, he blinks.
“she rides the motorbike wearing heels?”
 
jungkook’s misery has been pushed to the back of his mind, replaced by an overwhelming giddiness that causes him to drop everything on the floor and jump on his bed. he buries his head into the pillow, but it does nothing to erase the happy grin that’s threatening to make his cheeks sore.
what a small world, huh? 
what is this if not fate?
he flips over and stares at the ceiling as if it’s the starry night sky.
this might just become the best summer of his life. 
jungkook comes out fresh from the shower clad only in a pair of black boxer shorts. he hangs the towel he was drying his hair with over his nape, heading to the kitchen to prepare his dinner. he rips the lid of the cup ramyeon halfway, and as he pours hot water into it from the electric kettle, your face appears on his mind again. 
wait, there’s something wrong…
he tilts his head to the side, eyebrows knitting together as he tries to figure out what it is he forgot.
“ah, i’m so stupid!”
he totally forgot to ask your name! 
“shit!” he shouts in higher volume when he realizes that the water has overflowed and is now dripping to the floor. 
he puts the kettle down, taking a few steps back from the mess he made. praise heavens the water wasn’t hot enough for his toes to suffer anything more than a first-degree burn. 
he starts to look around for anything he can wipe the floor with, his tongue poking his inner cheek. 
“still having a bad day.” 
but a bad day isn’t enough to break down jungkook’s spirit. he knows there will always come a tomorrow, so he seizes that tomorrow and comes home from work as fast as he can. there’s a big chance that you leave for work around the same time, right? 
so he sits down on the sofa facing the aquarium, and he waits. 
his head turns to the elevator each time it dings.
he taps his foot on the floor.
he checks tomorrow’s weather forecast on the app. clear skies. no chance of rain. high humidity levels.
he goes through the magazines laid out on the coffee table. he learns five ways to get over heartbreak. according to the quiz, he has a sweet and passionate personality based on the flavor of his lip balm. he thinks it’s pretty accurate. strawberry, he strokes his non-existent beard. could never go wrong with it.
next thing he knows, the clock strikes twelve. 
he can no longer control his excessive yawning but his stomach is just screaming for the pack of jjajangmyeon in his cupboard. 
he presses the elevator button with a tight-lipped smile. he’s disappointed that he didn’t see you at all today, but he was raised to have a positive outlook in life. you live in the same building. you have to run into each other again one of these days. 
what does jungkook hate more than normal sundays? sundays when he didn’t get enough sleep. 
for some reason, he’s still tragically stuck with working on the worst day of the week despite his repeated objections. the only upside to this particular sunday is that he is assigned to the ferris wheel. in exchange for thrice the amount of his daily wage in discreet tips, what happens in some of those cabins are none of his business. 
if he ends up getting reassigned, he would be pretty fucking pissed off. 
he’s restless as the elevator descends to the ground floor. he’s munching on a protein bar, jogging in place as to warm up his body for a race to the bus stop. 
he can’t be the one manning the bump cars. bump cars are the worst. those kids hit you on purpose, he swears. 
the elevator dings and he runs.
until an eye-catching color forces him to pull the brakes. his sneakers squeak against the tiled floor. 
your back may be facing him, but he can recognize you from that cotton candy hair even from a mile away. you’re right where he was hoping you’d be last night, conversing with one of the janitors. this really isn’t the best time for your paths to cross again, given the reasons he was just grouching about, but his feet refuse to move. 
you go on your tiptoes to sprinkle fish feed into the aquarium. you’re so adorable in your pajamas; you’re almost drowning in the black and white checkered cloth. are those yours in the first place?
“everything you need to know is written here… how much- how often you should feed them depending on the seasons, depending on how big they’ve gotten… jungkook worked really hard in researching. impressive, don’t you think?”
“i see…” he is finally granted his wish to hear your soft voice. “but why don’t they have names?”
the janitor scratches his head at your question. “they look too alike to have names.” 
“hello! i heard my name!” jungkook pops in without a warning, causing mister park to flinch and slap a hand over his chest in shock. 
“jungkook! i’m 71 years old! you could’ve killed me!” 
“oh, that’s right-” he gasps. “grandpa, i’m sorry!”
jungkook attacks him with a bear hug, playfully rocking their bodies back and forth hoping that would calm down his vulnerable heart. for a brief moment, he feels like a child again. 
“this is jungkook.” 
the introduction was already made for him. that’s one less thing he has to overthink. 
“____ here wants to feed the fishes every morning from now on. i told her it’s perfectly alright with me.” the janitor laughs. “with my age, you know how forgetful i’ve become.” 
“really?” he breaks away, surprised by what he just learned. “that’s so nice!” 
“it’s nothing. i’m happy to do it.” you smile and make eye-contact with him, but you soon break it, opting to glance at the aquarium. 
you must like fishes a lot. he only felt bad for them because the janitor on night shift doesn’t give a single fuck about them; that’s why he did all that research hoping it would help with committing to the responsibility, which jungkook ended up shouldering in the end anyway. but you… you’ve been here for what? two? three days? 
“tell you what…” he brings out the pen he keeps in the side pocket of his backpack. “this- this is my phone number. if you need anything, or incase you need someone else to feed them, contact me!” 
he scribbles down his phone number on the notepad grandpa was showing you before his rude interruption. 
“by the way, my unit is 1311. you can also just-” he knocks on the thin air, clicking his tongue to mimic the sound. “knock on my door.” 
jungkook’s watch beeps twice everyday, once at 8:50am and then at 11pm sharp. the sun is burning bright and his shift starts at 9am. yes, he is nervous infront of a girl who is drop-dead gorgeous, but he should also be very much nervous about the (unfair) deduction from his measly salary. 
“okay, i need to run to work! goodbye!” 
so, his name is jungkook…
you crane your head to watch him rush out of the building. the uncomfortable sound of his sneakers squeaking against the floor makes you grimace. 
the page he wrote his number on is ripped off from the notepad and handed to you. 
“he’s a good kid.”
you force yourself to smile, and it slowly fades as you tilt down your chin and stare at the string of numbers in blue ink.
long after the janitor has left to fulfill his long list of tasks, you remain standing by the aquarium. 
“you do have someone taking good care of you.” you whisper to the clueless fishes, caressing the glass. a genuine smile appears when two of them swim towards you, beady eyes trying to make sense of the stranger loitering around their homey cage. “you can breathe well and you’re warm in the winter. that’s a relief.” 
after feeding them, next on the agenda is to cook your own breakfast. you head for the elevator, tossing the crumpled up paper into the trash bin before pressing the arrow pointing towards north. 
“hyung…”
“why?” 
jungkook sighs. “can you text me?” 
“text you what?” seokjin’s forehead creases in confusion. 
“anything. i just need to make sure my phone still works.” 
thursday has been a slow day at the amusement park despite the school vacation and no one has tried to win a teddy bear since the place opened. seokjin is more than happy to spend his free time playing games on his phone in his own little corner at the amusement park. 
well, that was before jungkook got bored at the ping pong toss booth and decided to hang out at the other side of the wall. 
he shrugs and texts his younger friend the word ‘anything’ just to get him off his back. he goes back to playing his game, not curious enough to interrogate him with additional questions. 
jungkook’s text tone rings at max volume. 
“it does work!” he yells in exasperation, flopping down at his seat. “why hasn’t she texted me?”
“you were whining about the same thing the other day.” seokjin muses as his car crosses the finish line. second place. “you fool, just text her first.”
“i don’t have her number.”
“what do you mean you don’t have her number?”
“i gave her mine.” jungkook says quietly. “we live in the same building and i told her to contact me if she needs anything.”
“then i guess it’s safe to say that she doesn’t need anything from you.” 
“seriously, why can’t i have friends that are nice to me?!” 
seokjin bursts out laughing, definitely not a stranger to jungkook and taehyung’s bickering at the break room. 
“you did this one to yourself! jungkook, flirt better!” 
“easier said than done,” jungkook pouts. 
you make him nervous. his brain goes blank when you’re around. in addition to that, he doesn’t know what you’re going through and he’s scared that you’d end up pushing him away if he oversteps. 
“i gave her candy when we first met and she threw them away.” 
“oh, that’s right,” seokjin loads a new game, snorting. “taehyung told me about that.” 
jungkook’s jaw drops. “is he backstabbing me?”
jungkook enters the break room with yet another item from the lost-and-found. it’s been over two weeks since he found this orange beanie on the ground. must’ve fallen from the rollercoaster, that’s his best guess. 
since no one has claimed it— “finders keepers,” he grins as he stuffs it into his backpack. 
“thief,” seokjin jokingly accuses him from the other side of the table. “that’s how you were raised?”
“says the one who took the sony headphones yesterday.” 
“i won it fair and square!” 
he’d argue with the older man again, but his phone vibrating has stolen his full attention. he is hit with disappointment at the same moment that he snatches it from the table. it’s his mom, again, asking him when he’s coming home. 
“you need to stop doing that. it’s getting sad.”
he sighs, hugging his backpack to hide his pitiful face. “i am sad.” 
his walks home from the bus stop have always been a period for reflection and pondering. the streets of seoul are scattered with his indecision, worries, and anger. since his mother has been asking him for months, should he just go home and endure their living situation? maybe it’s better to be annoyed with the presence of people instead of being blue with a lack thereof. 
so much for being independent. he spent most of high school anticipating the day he gets to move out, now he wants nothing but to go home. he can’t help but to think that life is but a vicious cycle of wanting and losing. 
too lost in thought, he fails to realize right away that he has entered his apartment building’s vicinity. it’s the smell of cigarette smoke that brings him back to reality. the alley is dark, but he can make out the silhouette of a figure crouched down on the ground. assuming that it’s one of the guards hiding to smoke, he soundlessly enters the confined space with mischief up his sleeve. 
when he gets close enough, the first thing he sees is the tip of the cigarette still burning red as the smoker takes a puff.
a car with blinding headlights zooms past.
it becomes unmistakable then— the identity of the person ten feet away from him. 
there’s no one around here with same hair color. 
none that he knows of anyway. 
he is motionless; clueless as to what he should do. he should probably turn his back and leave. pretend this never happened. he never saw anything. 
he can’t even be hung up on the fact that you smoke. if he thinks back on his past experiences with dating, this would’ve been a turn-off, but he loses the ability to care. the smoke in his lungs is negligible when your wounded sobs are breaking his heart. it’s ridiculous that the urge to also cry is spreading fast in his system, but he had a long day and he feels really fucking shitty. 
you were going to notice his presence eventually. 
he doesn’t know what he was expecting. 
you lift your head, and eye-contact is made. none of you chooses to speak a word. 
you’re as beautiful as the day he first met you.
you stand on your feet and you step on the cigarette, on the emotional connection he swore you had, crushing it under the weight of your boot. 
he blinks away the tears threatening to escape his eyes. he should say something; offer an apology for intruding on a vulnerable moment, but you walk past him before he could form the words, shoulder harshly bumping against him. 
could have it been on purpose? 
“____!” he says your name for the first time, for what sounds like a plea. he follows you home like a lost puppy. “i’m sorry, i-i wasn’t… i thought you were another person… are you okay?”
“what do you think?” you spit out. the delicate voice he knows isn’t there, gone harsh and hoarse. 
“is there anything i can do?”
no response. 
he tries again. “anything at all?” 
“oh my god, can’t you take a hint? leave me alone!” 
your sudden outburst sends him stumbling backwards, the sensation of your hands on his chest still lingering despite the distance that was forcefully created between the two of you. 
“i don’t know you! stay away from me!” 
your infuriated voice echoes throughout the lobby. he is shocked. dumbfounded. his eyes, out of focus, seek your face, and he finds you heaving with tearful eyes. 
he makes an attempt to speak, something to defend himself with, but in the end, he still says, “i’m sorry.” 
a woman walks out of the elevator, and you immediately enter without looking back. jungkook remains standing where he is, with strangers’ eyes on him as if he has committed a grave crime.
you slam the door shut, hand still covering your mouth shut despite no one being around to hear your cries. you don’t bother turning on the lights. your shoulder bag falls somewhere on the floor and you collapse on the bed, still in your jeans and your heels hanging off your feet. 
nothing matters anymore.
you’re suffering the punishment of somebody else’s crime. you’ve been casted out, stripped away of your dreams and your dignity. your life is over and you’ve accepted that, but maybe you haven’t. all is unfair. you’re so fucking angry but you’re too tired to feel it. and you’re alone. so alone. no one is on your side and it’s not fair. 
you try to scream out, anything to release your pent-up rage, but it doesn’t happen. apparently, that’s what happens when enough people tell you to bite your tongue raw. 
they say we curl up into the fetal position as a natural response to stress and anxiety because it mimics the sense of security we had when we were in our mother’s womb. the way you see it, your body will always be yours and it is the only one that you need.
so you curl up and you put your arms around yourself. you pat your own back until your wrist falls limp from exhaustion, and you keep your eyes closed until you fall into a deep sleep.  
you pray to god that you never wake up.
you fail to achieve peace even in your dreams. in what is supposedly an imaginary land, you were being chased by faceless agitators with torches and pitchforks. you were crying and screaming, running on bare and bloody feet, tripping on branches and the stones they were throwing. 
you open your eyes to darkness.
just as you predicted; nobody listens. 
you feel nothing anymore and you hope it stays that way. if you can’t escape it, then perhaps, you can be desensitized to its horrors. 
you force yourself to sit up on the bed, spending an unknown length of time staring into the void. 
the first coherent thought formed in your head… no, not a thought… a person. 
your bare feet brave the cold floor. the switch of the desk lamp is flicked as you sit at your desk. you grab a pen to write something on the free space of your opened journal pages. 
under those numbers, you note down the name of the owner in cursive.
after the shitshow that transpired earlier, sleep became impossible for jungkook. 
he doesn’t quite understand how he feels about you. however, it’s currently clear that there’s a part of him that’s pissed off. you made yourself very clear. he should maintain distance from now on. that’s the sensible, respectable thing to do. at this point, attempts at initiating any form of relationship with you appear to be futile. you’re a stranger to him, as you emphasized. this shouldn’t be as complicated as it is in his head… but fuck, the memories of your tear-stained face is corrupting his ability to rationalize.
it’s 2:33am. he’s been playing the guitar infront of the camera for an hour and a half already. the comment section is flooded by sleep-deprived people like him, sending song requests and questions about his personal life. 
yes, he’s about to be in third year college. 
no, he doesn’t have a girlfriend. 
no, he can’t mention where he lives… but sure, he can sing ‘beautiful’ by crush. 
“what do you mean? i just finished playing it ten seconds ago!” he squints as he scrolls through the new wave of comments. “sorry, art commissions are still closed. i’m behind on my workload… no, i’m not sleepy! don’t send me to bed yet… knees by iu? i love that song. should i play that next?”
his phone vibrates with a new text message, nearly causing it to fall from the stack of books he set it up on. 
“oh- what was tha- what do i do? wait, everyone. i need to check on something!”
the live is temporarily put on pause. 
“who is this?”
his eyebrows knit in confusion when he is greeted by an unregistered phone number.
  2:45am
hi, jungkook. this is ____. i wanted to apologize for my behavior at the lobby earlier. i understand you were only concerned. i’m so sorry. i’d love to buy you coffee some time to make it up to you, if that’s ok. 
this is real, right? he’s awake. he’s not hallucinating. the text message indicates your name and it says that you’d love to buy him coffee some time. 
a gasp leaves his mouth, his hand flying up to seal his lips. 
you texted him. you finally texted him.
he was starting to get convinced that you also threw away his number, but you didn’t! 
he weakly sets down the phone, brain still processing the message you sent. does this make sense?
“i shouldn’t reply right away… maybe in the morning…” he nods to affirm myself. “that’s right.” 
he begins chuckling out of nowhere. soon enough, those chuckles become chortles. he must be going insane. he picks up the phone and reads the message again. 
“she sounds pretty even in chat. how is that possible?” he spins on his chair, so carefree. “but honestly, is one coffee enough for what she did?” 
he shakes his head with a click his tongue. 
“i don’t think so…”
hold on…
it feels like he’s forgetting something…
“ah, the live!” he jumps on his seat in panic. 
he swipes out of the text message to go back to the app where he abandoned his thousand viewers.
“sorry, i made money.” he mumbles to himself. “i should end it now.” 
his mood has done a 180. his routine consists of feeding the fishes dinner, and then himself, but he decided to skip the second part earlier for reasons that he has forgotten by now. 
his stomach growls at his selfish decision. 
given the time, he considered food delivery, but the fee made him exit the app immediately. he hasn’t gone to the grocery store as of recent either. the fridge has been wasting electricity, but his pride won’t let him turn it off. 
how did people live without convenience stores before? that is what jungkook marvels about as he crosses the long hallway to reach the elevator. 
a door ahead opens, and he would ignore it if not for one of the two people who comes out from the other side of it. 
there is a man in his late 20’s, and then there is… you. 
you are the deer and jungkook is the blinding headlights. 
the coffee you originally offered jungkook has turned into a full meal. when you arrived at the convenience store, he knew what he wanted right away. he grabbed the biggest cup of ramyeon and tteokbokki, an egg, sausage, and cheese. he refused to let you pay for them at first, but there was nothing left to do after you handed the cashier the money. 
the action was done out of obligation rather than will, but seeing how much he’s enjoying the food, you’re a little less displeased with the circumstances. 
“is that all you’re eating? we can share mine.” 
“it’s okay. i’m not that hungry.” 
with the money you had left, you were able to afford a roll of gimbap. maybe it’s not enough to make you full, but it’s enough to satiate your hunger. you slowly chew the food in your mouth, an effort to hide your smile as you discretely observe jungkook devour his rabokki. 
“the man from earlier, is he your brother?”
your chewing is put on pause. “how did you know?” 
“how? it’s easy!” 
he cheekily points at his nose using his chopsticks. 
“you have the exact same nose.” 
“ugh,” you grimace. “i’m tired of hearing that.” 
your list of similarities ends there. he’s the golden child and you’re the black sheep. if your parents find out that he comes to visit you and he sends you money, they’d only see you in worse light.
“i know,” jungkook scrunches his nose. “i have an older brother too.” 
cute. 
“so… why did you lie?”
he’s seriously asking you like this? so casually?
you awkwardly set down your food on the table and you take your time sipping at your coffee to buy yourself some time.
“i was embarrassed with what happened before… me crying at the boat and everything…”
you’re having a hard time looking at jungkook in the eye. sensing your discomfort, he wants to punch himself for being so careless with his tone. until moments before, he felt too offended to consider the fact that you never owed him an explanation. 
“you don’t have to be. it’s okay.” he reassures you. “we all have bad days.”
it doesn’t work the way that he thought it would. when you start laughing, he is lost. 
“did i say something funny?” he chuckles along nervously. 
“that quote, ‘it’s just a bad day, not a bad life.’” 
“yeah?” 
“it’s the opposite for me. it’s not just a bad day; it’s a bad life.”  
you speak with such endearing humor and it works like a charm in making the atmosphere lighter. he’d pass it off as a self-deprecating joke, but based on your few yet impactful encounters so far, he doesn’t think you’re stretching the truth far. if he’s being honest, if your first meeting happened differently, he’d assume that you’re living a perfectly comfortable life based on your appearance alone.
“even now, i’m too embarrassed to show my face to you. but we’re neighbors, so i’ll try to get over it.”
“tell you what, let’s start with a clean slate.” he eagerly makes a proposal. “you can erase all the embarrassing memories of you from my brain.”
“h-how do i do that?” 
“flick my forehead!”
you blink, eyes darting around as you try to make sense of what he said. “i was expecting some sort of stupid hypnosis.”
“or that,” he switches up, slapping the table as if you just came up with something revolutionary. 
why did he say flick his forehead anyway? he knows you gotta have an overwhelming amount of pent-up emotions. you could go deku on him and blow his head off. 
“let’s do that!”
“no, i like it.” you almost interrupt him. “i’ll flick your forehead.” 
but he did suggest it… and you act so gentle and sophisticated. he doubts that you would make it hurt. 
“here i go!”
he gets his bangs out of the way. “okay!”
he squeezes his eyes shut, bracing himself for impact. “please have mercy.” 
son of a bitch. that hurt. 
“ow!” he rubs the affected area, face twisting in pain. his eyes flicker to you in disbelief. “you didn’t hold back, huh?!” 
you smile at him sweetly. “did it work?”
  —
“you fed them, right?”
“of course i did. you?”
“yes, this morning.”
“okay, that’s good.”
you and jungkook sit in silence after that, eyes twinkling with wonder as they follow the stunning movements of the goldfishes. 
deep inside, he’s feeling restless. you make him nervous, and he’s also nervous about you noticing that he’s nervous. it’s been a tireless cycle. 
he sneaks a glance at you.
perhaps he’s overthinking again. it seems like you don’t even care that he’s less than an arm’s length from you. 
he doesn’t know whether to be relieved or annoyed. 
he sighs without a sound, comfortably leaning all of his weight on the couch. 
“it’s called the dreamboat.”
“what is?” 
the boat you cried in— can’t say that. you might flick his forehead again. 
“at the amusement park.” 
“oh…”
it falls silent. 
jungkook is thankful when you have a follow-up question because he hasn’t thought of a new topic yet. 
“i wonder why they called it that.”
“oh, because the owner’s daughter loves boats!” he shares one of the few fun facts he learned over the past year. “that’s why it was designed like it came from a fairy tale too.” 
a mirthful smile forms on your face “my guess was too far off.” 
“what was it?” 
“mhmm,” you hum, folding your arms over your chest. “dreamboat is a word used to describe a handsome man, right?”
jungkook nods his head like he knew that all along. no, he didn’t. 
“so i imagined the owner met their handsome partner on a boat- no, or a ship,” the epiphany hits you in the middle of your sentence. “they have to be rich since they built an amusement park.”
a romantic. you imagined a love story based on a word alone. jungkook’s teeth dig into his lower lip as he tries to tame his wide grin. 
“that does sound like a good theory.” he casually bends over, resting his elbows over his spread thighs. “i think i like it better than the truth.”
“how did you know that though? the truth?”
he shrugs. “i work there.”
“you work there?” your voice goes up a pitch. “i didn’t know…”
“you? do you study or work?”
“call center,” you answer to get it over with. to his surprise, your body language shifts and you’re now facing him. “what’s it like working there? is it fun?” 
apparently, a job at the amusement park is now joining his very short list of your interests: after motorbikes, smoking, and fishes.
“it has good days and bad days…” he trails off. he hasn’t truly given this much thought, so he’s also learning about himself. “but i didn’t expect it to be as fun as it is. sometimes it’s boring, but when it’s fun, it’s really fun.”
you scoot closer. “do you get to ride for free?”
ah, yes, the deciding factor when he was offered the job. 
“there’s an employee discount, actually! but i do it for free anyway…” he shyly scratches his head. “don’t tell anyone i said that.” 
“i don’t have anyone to tell.” 
his heart skips a beat when he hears your laugh genuinely for the first time. quiet and delicate and airy— you grace this blue summer night like a spring breeze that takes away with it everything that burdens your mind and heart. 
once again, the aquarium becomes the most interesting collection of atoms in the building. as for him, he is still unable to keep his eyes off you. 
“did you have a pet fish growing up? you really like them a lot.”
“no,” you reply. “i didn’t care about them until now.”
“really?” his eyes grow wide. “wow, i seriously thought you were a marine life enthusiast, or something like that.” 
you give him a look. “i thought you were a marine life enthusiast.”
“we were both wrong.” he shrugs. “but what made you care about them so much now?”
“i don’t know. i just thought of something when i was looking at them.” 
he feels your hesitance to continue. your eyes connect briefly and he communicates that he’s listening with an open mind.
“they’re different from other pets, you know, like cats and dogs. they can’t make a sound when they’re in pain.” 
in the dark room, he sees the melancholy seeping from the cracked edges of you. although you act relaxed, your spoken thoughts paint the picture of a person whose sensitivity and sympathy touch upon everything. 
“there should at least be somebody who cares enough to check up on them and make sure that they’re alive and well.” 
“…and you wanted to be that somebody for them.” he concludes with a hushed voice, more to himself than you. 
“but it turns out they have you already.”
“it’s not just me now.”
he mirrors your soft smile. it’s nice to see your frown turned upside down for a change. what was weighing down on him has become lighter, and he hopes it’s the same for you.
“the sun is about to rise.” you announce after a peek at the grandfather clock. “we should go home.”
jungkook isn’t a big fan of comfortable silence, but he can get used to it. he maintains a respectable distance from you in the elevator, engaging himself with the ascending number of floors on the screen. when the door opens, you’re the first to step out and he follows suit. 
your destination isn’t far. you pause in front of unit 1303.
“uhm, this is me.” 
yup, the same door he saw you come out of. 
“i’m not far, just at the end of the hall. 1311, if you ever need anything.”
your eyes trace the direction of where he’s pointing before you nod in understanding. with a hand gripping the door handle, you offer him one final smile.
“goodnight, jungkook.”
if others cheese over good morning texts first thing after opening their eyes, then jungkook’s case is one of a kind. 
he rolls over to his side, puffy eyes from sleep forming thinner crescent moons as he zooms in on your reflection on the glass. 
  10:08am
[attached image]
they’re happy and fed :)
10:10am
[attached image]
babies are getting bigger
this is how his mornings have been going for the past two weeks. he wakes up and he checks his phone for fish breakfast updates from you. in return, he sends fish dinner updates to you at night. he was the first one to send you a picture following the night you awkwardly bumped into each other. he didn’t want to wait around anymore.
were his palms sweaty? did he throw his phone on the bed after? 
no longer relevant. 
he now knows that your favorite color is blue and you have wednesdays and fridays off for the next month. that’s pretty cool. 
another thing he’s taken notice of is that you don’t use emojis or emoticons aside from the smiley face. 
although, there was once a miracle.
he scrolls up until he reaches your conversation from four days ago.
  11:59pm
LOL i’m actually allergic to seafood ㅜㅜ
😭😭😭
“ah, i’m annoyed!” he kicks his feet; half of the blanket falls to the floor. “she’s so cute!” 
things are indeed going great, greater than he imagined, but if he has to complain, he wishes he could see you in person more. he’s at work when you’re home and vice versa, so you don’t cross paths despite living on the same apartment floor. that 3am encounter was a rare phenomenon, it turns out. he chanced upon you a few times while running to work and you were feeding the fishes breakfast, but those conversations were barely conversations. 
‘i just thought of something when i was looking at them… they can’t make a sound when they’re in pain.’
he hasn’t stopped thinking about that. 
“when are you asking her out on a date?”
taehyung is on a mission to tease him for life even from daegu. he’s only thankful that his best friend isn’t video calling him from the toilet again because he’s currently having his lunch. 
“i don’t know.” he grouches. “it doesn’t feel like the right time. i don’t want to scare her off.” 
“when’s that ‘right time’?” 
“i’ll figure it out…” he sighs, setting down the half-eaten sandwich on the table. “how do i say it…? i feel like- hm, she’s no- she’s not in the best emotional state right now.” 
“so you admit it,” taehyung raises an eyebrow, smirking. “she has issues.”
that didn’t sit right with jungkook at all. he feels obligated to defend your honor. 
“hey, stop being rude. you haven’t even met her yet.” 
“come on, bro! i’m only looking out for you.” 
the atmosphere shifts into a more serious tone.
“i don’t want you to get hurt trying to fix another person again. it was hard to watch.”
he moved on and learned his lesson— he wants to spit out as a rebuttal, but his best friend gave him much to think about. would it make sense to say that he’s moved on but he hasn’t healed? 
“i know,” is what he ends up saying absentmindedly, distracted by thoughts that he isn’t keen on sharing. 
and as if he’s been slapped back into reality, he fixes his posture and picks up his sandwich. “so, what’s up? have you even slept yet?”
“no,” taehyung responds nonchalantly. between the two of them, he absolutely has the more fucked up sleeping schedule. “i’ve been awake since 12am.”
“didn’t you say you’d spend the entire vacation sleeping?”
“this vacation was a trap.”
the camera darts to the abandoned mop on the floor.
“my mom makes me do all the chores everyday. this is worse than my actual job!” 
a devilish grin is drawn on jungkook’s face. ah, the grass is always greener on the other side.
  
“mondays stay to be a pain in the ass.”
does it look like he’s exhausted and dirty from chasing around children all day? jungkook is stressed as he checks himself out on his front camera. he’s walking home from the bus stop after clocking out of work. 
the street is mostly quiet, until a roaring engine approaches and he cringes at the raucous sound assaulting his eardrums. he’s already at the sidewalk for his safety and in accordance with the law, but he feels compelled to stay further back and wait for the vehicle to pass by. 
seconds later, a black harley races past.
jungkook is dumbfounded as he tries to piece the puzzle together. 
the lights are bright, and your pink hair blowing with the wind is even brighter. 
“w-was that…?”
he was going to bring it up over text last night, but he decided to reserve it for physical conversation because he wants to see your face light up again. 
you’re so fucking cool. 
he’s both amazed and envious. 
also, he’s pretty damn sure that you’re rich. he doesn’t understand why you’re living in this place and enduring the graveyard shift at the call center. 
a foolish smile is permanently plastered on his face as he sketches a commissioned digital portrait. he really should focus, or else he might end up drawing you instead of his client. 
he spins on his chair, pushing the wheels towards the bed, where he comfortably extends his feet over. almost missed it. the power has been out for an hour and he doesn’t expect it to come back until dawn. he was pissed about this being a normal occurrence during the first year of his stay here, but he’s gotten quite used to it. invested in a powerbank that almost looks like it can charge a car’s battery and he’s all set. 
the aggressive pounding at the door drowns out the pop ballad he’s listening to.
“what? who could it be at this hour?” 
he pauses the song, turning up the brightness of his ipad to use it as a makeshift flashlight. 
the last person he expected to appear at his door says the last thing he expected them to say. 
“jungkook, i think there’s a ghost in my apartment.”
jungkook sets down a hot cup of tea infront of you. in his mind, he thanks himself for keeping everything his mom sends him, even the things he do not like. 
“thanks,” you mumble, picking it up by the handle. 
he patiently sits on the other side of the table for two, giving you the time to calm yourself down from the horror that you witnessed. he has his emergency light propped up on the kitchen counter. he was saving it for when he finds himself in a grave situation, like a total blackout or an apocalypse. he didn’t imagine he’d end up using it for an unusual night like this. 
“are you feeling better?” he asks worriedly.
you nod. “yeah, i just don’t want to be alone right now.” 
“i’m here. you can stay until whenever you want.”
“thank you.”
you sigh with your eyes closed. you look like life has been drained out of you. 
“i’m really scared, jungkook.”
“are you sure about what you saw? i mean, it’s dark. your mind could’ve been playing tricks on you.”
“i saw him. i really him saw him!” you frantically defend yourself. “i was washing my hands then i turned around and i saw him, sitting at the edge of my bed! he looked at me!” 
his heart drops to his stomach when your chin begins to wobble and he sees your eyes glistening with unshed tears. 
“and his skin was burnt off, jungkook.” you enunciate the words to emphasize the severity of what you experienced. “it’s so horrifying, i had to run.” 
“hey hey hey- it’s okay. i believe you.” he squeezes your cold, trembling hands. “you’re safe now. it’s only us here. no spirits- i promise.” 
he’s losing his mind a little bit. he’s holding the hands of the girl he likes and her pinky is wrapped around his. you’ve been putting him through a rollercoaster that, for once, he is terrified of. he wants to bask in this moment… but the specific detail you revealed is bothering him.
“and you said… he was burnt?” 
“yeah, why?”
he presses his lips in a thin line, shaking his head. “no, it’s nothing.”
“there’s something.” you stop crying. “i see it on your face.”
“i swear, it's nothing!”
“you’re lying!” you accuse him. “what is it?”
“forget it, ____.”
“jungkook,” you say his name sternly. “tell me.”
shit, he’s done for. you can’t do this to him when he’s trying to protect you.
he swallows nervously. “but i don’t want to scare you.” 
“i saw a ghost. what else can scare me?”
“the truth is…” he pauses, still weighed down by hesitance. but he realizes he has reached the point of no return. also, you’re squeezing his hands a little too tight. “this building had to be restored. it burned down a decade ago. people suspect there was foul play, but the firemen said it was faulty wiring.” 
he’s the one telling the story, but he also feels chills run down his spine. 
“oh… so you’re saying…”
“i… believe so?” he winces with a mix of guilt and fear. “but it’s the first time i’m hearing of a ghost story here. i haven’t had any encounter either.” 
“i need to move.” you declare, not an ounce of humor in your voice. 
“don’t!” he protests. 
perhaps a little too passionately. could he be any more obvious? 
“what do you mean? you need to leave too!”
“i can’t,” he fakes a pained expression. “who’s going to take care of the fishes?” 
that works like a charm. 
you untangle your hands and lean against the chair, transforming into a pensive state. 
if he wasn’t going to convince you to stay, the fishes would. 
“fuck,” you curse in a low whisper, sipping on your tea. 
“i’m not the spoiled brat you think i am.” you frown, dangling your feet from the bed. “i sleep on the floor too.” 
“i’d be rude if i let you do that.” jungkook insists as he fluffs his pillow. “i’m comfortable right here. i’m used to it.” 
he was relieved that you weren’t stubborn enough to go back to your place and force yourself to sleep there. after seeing how terrified you were, it would’ve been impossible for him to close his eyes and shut down his brain from worrying. he hasn’t seen a ghost, but they have to be real. he likes to believe that we do not cease to exist and we have some place to go when we die. however, that does co-exist with being alarmed by a ghost of a burnt body sitting on your bed. he isn’t going to let you go back in there tonight. no way.
“you should get some rest. just tell me if you need anything, okay?”
“thank you, jungkook.” 
“it’s no problem!”
his name sounds so sweet when it comes from your lips. he can’t help but to feel giddy every time he hears it. 
you lie down on the bed, facing the portable fan strategically set up on jungkook’s gaming chair. on the other hand, the emergency light is at the nightstand, acting as a night lamp. 
he checks the time on his ipad: 1:48am. his battery percentage: 55%. he’s not yet sleepy, so he decides to continue working until he gets the low battery warning for 20%. 
sitting down without back support becomes too uncomfortable after a while, especially when drawing. he doesn’t realize it when he changes positions, too focused on drawing the intricate floral patterns on the client’s blouse. 
“is that your girlfriend?” 
jungkook turns his head towards the voice and your face is only inches away from his. the word stops for a moment.
“is she okay with me sleeping here?” 
he scoots a little further away to grant his racing heart some mercy. “u-uhmm, no.”
“no…?” you repeat slowly, sounding concerned.
“no, as in she’s not my girlfriend!” he further elaborates in distress. “i don’t have a girlfriend.”
“okay, cool. you scared me.” you huff out a chuckle. “i don’t like being the girl who causes problems.” 
“no, you’re safe.” he manages to also laugh. “no one’s coming to pull your hair.”
“then who is she?” you point at the screen with your pouted lips, particularly the reference photo that’s been burnt to his memory. 
“a client. people pay me to draw them.”
“oh, so she’s one of your french girls?” you crack a humorous remark.
the reference catches him off guard, even though he should’ve totally seen it coming.
he squints. “mhmmm, i guess? kind of like that… except they’re not, you know, naked.”
“i see,” you hum in interest. “you don’t like doing nude drawings?” 
“honestly? i don’t know. i’ve never done it before.” 
“no one’s asked you?”
he shakes his head. “no one,”
“would you do mine if i ask you to?” 
he secretly pinches his thigh to prove that he’s not dreaming. 
what the fuck?
did he hear you right? 
it sounded like such a genuine and casual question in the name of art, but the worst thing he could do while his crush is sleeping over is to imagine her naked. he feels the warmth spread across his cheeks, possibly reaching his ears. 
“hey, breathe!” you giggle with a push of his shoulder. “you don’t have to answer that. sorry if it made you uncomfortable.”
“sorry, i was just surprised.” 
he forces himself to laugh and act like the question isn’t putting him through a crisis in so many levels. 
“i’ll let you finish your work.” you smile at him, pulling up the blanket. 
please do and stop shaking up my heart. 
“goodnight.” 
“goodnight, ____.” 
jungkook is still flustered by the conversation. since you opened up the topic, he did give it some serious thought. he thinks he wouldn’t mind if someone asked him to do it. he makes all of his negotiations and transactions online so everyone so far have been a stranger. as for the people he personally know, unless it’s his significant other, wouldn’t it be awkward? 
anyway, the chances of it happening are low. stressing over it is pointless.
he needs to finish this commission and move on to the next, or else he’d be encumbered by the pile of deadlines. he’s making the most out of this vacation so he can save more money and work won’t have to interfere so often with his studies. 
sometimes he doesn’t understand why he works so hard either. his family isn’t struggling financially. in fact, he’s studying to take over their businesses. his parents have been nothing but kind and supportive, but he is never compelled to ask them for money. he feels this strong and all-consuming need to prove himself as capable and independent. nothing compares to the gratification of buying his wants and needs with the money he sacrificed his blood, sweat, and tears for. he can’t stop himself.
“i can’t sleep…” a quiet murmur reaches his ears. “may i watch you draw?” 
oh, he thought you’ve fallen asleep twenty minutes ago. 
“of course,” 
he is more than happy to move closer to give you a good view of his progress. 
if there’s one thing he isn’t ashamed to boast about— it’s this. 
it’s silent except for your breathing and the taps of his pen on the screen. he’s a tad self-conscious with the presence of engrossed eyes, but he would describe the atmosphere as peaceful. 
“you’re such a great artist.” you whisper in awe. 
jungkook can’t recall the last time he felt this simple yet profound type of joy. 
true to your words, you did move as morning came. 
jungkook wakes up to an empty bed and a commotion outside. 
“____?” 
he knocks on the bathroom door, not expecting it to swing open from the action. he takes his chances and peeks inside with another call of your name, but you’re still nowhere to be seen. 
did you really leave without saying goodbye? 
he sighs in disappointment. he was planning on buying you breakfast, too. he knew it. he should’ve made the invitation last night. 
a series of loud thumps prompts him to scratch his head in irritation. he’s tired and sleep-deprived and he didn’t see his crush’s face first thing in the morning. the day has barely started and it’s already a bad one.
he opens the door with a considerable force, mouth running before his eyes could perceive his surroundings. 
“could you guys turn it down? people are still slee-”
“jungkook! you’re awake.” 
you jog over to him with a more cheery expression than last night’s. there’s no windows but the sun is shining over his face.
“sorry about the noise. i’m moving to a new unit.”
he can see that, but his brain remains in a muddled state. how did you make the arrangements overnight? he gapes at the men hauling your things to your new apartment.
“1309?” he exclaims.
“yeah,” you shyly reply. “it’s the only vacant one left.” 
almost but not quite. does he have the right to complain? you’d be one door away. 
he’s fucking ecstatic. 
if he just sets aside the fact that it took a ghastly ghost encounter for the stars to align. 
the wrinkles on his forehead disappear and become crinkles by his eyes, accompanied by an excited beam. 
“should we feed them together then grab breakfast after?” 
time passes by too fast for jungkook’s liking. summer vacation ended a month ago and he’s back to busting his ass off at the university. he misses the days and nights when the only thing he was going insane about is you. 
what’s taking you so long to reply? did he say something stupid? does he look nice? smell nice? are you crying again? that ghost isn’t bothering you again, is he? 
now that he needs to focus on something less interesting, say studying taxation and business law for subsequent long quizzes tomorrow, he’s back to crushing cans of energy drinks. 
fuck, he misses you. 
your purple hair tie is still wrapped around the knob of his bathroom sink faucet and he keeps forgetting to give it back to you. you make him nervous but he forgets he ever felt that way after five minutes with you. he craves to be connected with you on a more intimate level. he wants to be more than just a neighbor you make small talk with, over text. he wants to be more than a friend you sometimes eat with, on your days off. but he likes you so much that he can be content with the way things are, so long as it means you won’t go further away. 
he’s absolutely pumped to hear his friends berate him for being stupid enough to enjoy the bare minimum from a woman. 
an email notification interrupts his intense cramming session with his ipad and his illegally downloaded ebooks.
No Name
Subject: IMPORTANT! READ ME! 
snack break at the aquarium? 
he already has a strong inkling on who the sender could be; he clicks the email address and unsurprisingly, it says that it’s you. 
did you seriously go out of your way to email him because he told you that he was going to keep his phone turned off while studying? 
ridiculous. 
so cute and ridiculous. 
“i brought your favorite.” you meekly present your gift to jungkook. “uh, actually i’m not sure if it’s your favorite. but it’s become mine since you gave it to me.”
jungkook gapes at the bag of his favorite gummies sitting on his lap. just for comparison, the packet he gave you that day you first met came from his pocket. this one is almost as wide as his thighs slightly spread apart. 
but most importantly, what did you just say?
“y-you didn’t throw it away?”
“what are you saying?” you pout, a little hurt by the question. “why would i throw it away?”
“you should’ve. you can’t just accept food from strangers!” 
he was being pretty before. he humbly admits that. he just wanted an excuse to bring you up so he whined about it for weeks, but he was never genuinely upset. not specifically about that, anyway.
“why are you so upset?” you match the rise of his voice. “i’m fine and we ended up being friends. now say ‘thank you’ and open it!”
“ah, sure-” he panics, fumbling with the zigzag edges of the packaging. you were kind of hot for that. “thank you! this was seriously so thoughtful of you.” 
you nod in satisfaction, stealing a gummy worm the second that the plastic is torn open. “you’re welcome!”
  “i should stop eating.” jungkook mumbles to himself, chewing the other half of his nth gummy worm of the night. 
“yeah,” you agree, pulling your hand away from the bag with an impressive show of restraint. “we should.”
the two of you probably look bizarre in the eyes of strangers, particularly those who have seen you one too many nights admire the golden creatures like you’re being hypnotized and nothing else in the world matters. jungkook never knows what’s running in your head, but to him, these moments are all about being beside you. the loud beating of his heart could be attributed to the caffeine, or the bare skin of your knees touching and no one daring to move. 
“the tank feels…” there is a delay as you search for the appropriate word. “dull. can’t there be more variety of plants?” 
“i tried,” he laughs at the funny memory you evoked. “when i came back the next day, two of them already ate everything.”  
you gasp. “everything? is that normal?” 
he opens his mouth to speak, but you unknowingly interrupt him with a raise of your hand.
“okay, i’m searching on naver.” 
jungkook behaves for the fifteen minutes that follow, sneaking a peek at your phone screen every now and then with squinted eyes. you read fast, and your knees shake when you have to think hard. they’re small things. they don’t matter that much. but they’re still parts of your entirety which he is to be well-aquainted with. 
“according to this person, we can try giving them marimo moss balls to play with… and hmmm-” you hum, lips puckering into a pout. “then for plants, anubias and java ferns?” 
“i still know the address of the place i bought the plants from before. we can go when you’re free.” he offers, jumping on the opportunity to spend time with you outside of this building. 
“you free sunday?” 
“is the afternoon alright? i have to go to uni in the morning.” 
please say yes.
“sure, that works.”
he breaks into a triumphant smile. 
yes! 
jungkook has been looking forward to this day all week. he breezed through work and college, motivated to finish all his tasks so he could enjoy his time with you without any worries. he knows it’s not a date, but anyone can be excited to meet up with a friend.
“you look pretty.” he smiles, breaking the silence in the elevator. 
“you can barely see my face.” 
“i see it!”
your nonchalance slowly fades, seemingly replaced by unease, which confuses jungkook. you put on a white face mask from the pocket of your hoodie before facing him. 
“now you don’t!” you banter with him playfully. 
“too late,” he sticks his tongue out. “i can draw it from memory.” 
this is your usual day outfit, a basic classic. a hoodie paired with shorts and sneakers. the face mask is part of it too. in a crowd, you could be anyone, even him, if only your hair doesn’t stand out among the neutrals. he likes it. he likes how you match outfits without trying to. you get more dressed up at night, which makes sense since you go to work. 
“so you can draw me even if i flash you just once?” 
scandalized, he almost chokes on his own spit. “____!”
“i’m joking!” you giggle.
“no, please do it.” he encourages you in jest.
that earns him a slap on the face. he touches the affected area. it didn’t hurt at all, you did it with a light hand, but he gapes at you dumbstruck. 
“you can joke about it but i can’t?!” 
you only laugh at his reaction. he also imagines that he looks funny. not long after, the elevator opens and you drag him out by his hand.
the cashier pushes back your extended hand. “sorry, we don’t accept card payments.” 
while you pout sadly at the rejection, jungkook rushes to grab the wallet that you made him hide because this was your ‘idea.’ 
“here,” he puts down the paper bills on the counter.
“i’ll pay you back.” 
“no, it’s fine. my treat for the fishes since they’d probably eat them anyway.” he jokes to comfort you.
“yeah, okay,” you respond listlessly. “then i’ll buy our dinner. samgyupsal?”
“call!” 
jungkook guesses you have come to know him well too. 
“okay, let’s go.”
he invites you to leave after the cashier gives him the paper bag. as you walk out together, your shoulders brush, and for a brief moment, he assumes that you would cling to him. he doesn’t know why he keeps doing that. you never do. he continues walking and he doesn’t even notice that he has left you behind.
the door is half-open and he’s stood in place, eyes scanning the store like he just lost a child at the mall. 
of course, he finds you hunched over infront of an aquarium inhabited by a betta fish. 
“do you want to get it?” he whispers, mindful of scaring away the little creature. “i don’t think i’ve seen a purple fish before.”
not even in art or television. it’s strange. 
he feels your eyes glued to him. persuaded by curiosity, he turns his cheek. 
his breathing stops when he sees your face so close. 
he doesn’t know you removed your mask. you’re staring at him so intensely with those beautiful  eyes, sparkling with the reflections of light. you’re dazzling, and intimidating, and it’s doing dangerous things to his heart.
a little nudge and he’d give you an eskimo kiss. 
if there’s a perfect romantic moment to kiss your lips, he’d say it’s right now. 
“it’s not the fish i want.” 
he doesn’t hear you. 
do you see how entranced he is by your lips? 
“the shipwreck, it’s beautiful.”
his eyes chase the sight of them when you return your gaze to the aquarium. 
“like you,” the words slip out without thought.
a soft smile tugs at the corner of your lips. you blink away the tears and you stomach the heavy in your chest. you know jungkook is still staring at you with those bedroom eyes and there was no deep thought behind his compliment. will he still find you beautiful when he sees who you are beyond the surface? 
“like me…”
— 
after dinner, you and jungkook planted the plants and installed the shipwreck you wanted. it was not cheap, but it was worth it, if it meant seeing your priceless joy. he carries around more cash than necessary when he goes out with you. he’s praying that you didn’t see his sigh of relief when the waiter said the restaurant accepts card. he doesn’t know much about your circumstances, why you stopped going to school and why you opted to work instead, but he knows you lead a lifestyle different from his. he’s not ignorant. he estimates your bag is five times more expensive than his ipad. but with how you’re soundly sleeping on his shoulder, he can say that it’s justified. 
he learns that you’ve been working straight for fifteen days, with 10-20 hours of overtime per week. you practically live there. he can feel the weight of your shoulders on him, which is why he doesn’t have the heart to wake you up despite his bladder’s need of the bathroom. this is probably the closest he will ever be to you. he can’t be the one to walk away in this memory. 
the humming noise of the aquarium’s filter fills the silence.
it always feels like he’s dreaming when he’s with you.
“after all that money we spent, we should really name them now.” 
you release the yawn you were holding back while speaking, head dropping on his shoulder. jungkook stiffens at the suddenness of the physical contact, but then relaxes thanks to the tranquilizing scent of your shampoo— it has to be coconut, with some sort of flowers that perfectly compliment it.  
“have any ideas?”
“yes,” he hears the smile in your voice. “you know those two who have similar hues?”
he hums, body vibrating underneath your soft cheek.
“tangerine, and then clementine for the smaller one.” 
“those are cute names.”
“you like them?”
“yes, they really sound like siblings!”
“okay, i won.” you shrug your shoulders as far as they can go, as if you’re so pleased you could burst. “that’s settled. your turn!”
“hmmm…” 
he unconsciously bounces his knee as he racks his brain, which you swat with a disapproving noise, mumbling “making me dizzy!”
“sorry,” he winces.
your giggles are infectious, bringing tickles somewhere deep inside of him, butterflies in his stomach coming alive like spring only arrived. 
“shouldn’t we at least have one named after a flower?” he suggests. “hold on, i’ll search for good ones.”
“let’s give the flower name to the yellow one. she stands out, like a flower.”
you blink wearily, a soft smile amidst the haze, sent to the yellow fish who swam closer as if it heard itself being called. 
he reads the list of yellow flower names out loud.  
“sunflower, daisy, azalea… for-forthysia? lily, cosmos, dahlia-”
“dahlia-” you quietly repeat the name in awe, clinging to his arm to steal his attention.
“dahlia it is!” 
“i wish dahlia would live forever.” you sigh, haunted by the inevitable. 
“dahlia will outlive us.” he chuckles. 
“i’ll protect her from the afterlife.”
he squeezes your hand tenderly. “i’ll be right there with you.” 
and with unspoken mutual understanding, your fingers intertwine. neither one of you wants to let go, he feels it strongly and he is sure of it. his cheeks may very well begin to ache with how elated he is. 
“that’s three… you know, i saw someone on youtube who named their fish coral. i thought it was a very pretty name. how about that?”
“i like it,” you chirp. “i kind of wish it was my name.” 
“should i just give it to you?”
you lift your head a little, sleepy eyes connecting with his. “do you know someone who has the same name as me?”
“no,” he slowly shakes his head. “you’re the only one.” 
“let’s give it to the one with the longest tail.” 
your head drops on his shoulder, as if it’s where it belongs. 
“i like being the only one.”
you fell asleep seconds after that.
he found entertainment in watching as much as the goldfishes playing around with the shipwreck. it’s a wooden ship split in two, with cracks and holes big enough for them to swim in and out of. even the sails have holes. the drawings on them are unrecognizable beyond his imagination. 
it’s quite charming, but he doesn’t understand what’s special about it the way you do. 
a teardrop drips from the tip of your nose and crashes on his arm, but he doesn’t feel it. 
eventually, it dries, and is erased from history. 
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warmilikeit · 2 months ago
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Yandere Batfam x Camp half-blood (Neglected reader)
Dc x Pjo
Part 5
________________________
Diana is seething, she's filled with rage, the lies Bruce fed her?
"I'm very worried for their wellbeing..."
"I miss them very much"
"they're so young, I don't want anything bad to happen to them"
Asshole.
She kicked the door of the justice hall down, startling the kids who had gone back on patrol from trying to find (Name)
"hey what gives?" Flash asks
Superman raised his eyebrow "you left so suddenly, mind telling us where you've been?"
She looks at batman's sidekicks and then at him, while staring him straight in the eyes "the kid is dead" she says
"what?"
A silence washing over the entire room
"the lady who attacked your house, that wasn't an ordinary lady, in the eyes of mortals she may look normal, but in the eyes of divine beings... It's a monster, that monster was an empousa, a poisonous fire breathing monster who feeds on the blood of mortals and divine beings alike" Diana thinks about how she'll explain everything to J'onn later, but figure that he's probably reading her mind right now
Her suspicions are confirmed as J'onn nods at her
"your kid, (Name), they're a demigod, because of that they're a target for monsters, they're gone, eaten, sorry Bruce"
Crap Diana thinks, was she too harsh? She was just too angry
Ignoring the fact Diana just announced Bruce slept with a god, Superman placed his hand on Batman's shoulder "My condolences Bruce"
Everyone was giving their apologies to the bats
She didn't look at the widened eyes of batman's sidekicks, she noticed but chose to ignore the sound of Dick collapsing into a chair, she heard didn't pay attention to the footsteps of Damian who had to run out of the room
Cass stiffened up, she trembled as if resembling a cracking statue, Steph wants to cry, but she knows very well that she doesn't deserve to cry over you, Barbara just- it's like she just stopped working
As much as she feels so cruel right now, she knew it was the only thing that will keep you hidden, if not, they'll keep trying to find you
Green arrow crossed his arms, but it was clear he was disturbed by the death of a 12 year old kid "Diana, please elaborate"
"Bruce here, had intercourse with a god, that led to (Name) being born, monsters attack demigods, people who are half god half human such as myself, without proper protection monsters kill demigods easily, and (Name) suffered that fate, monsters attack demigods while they're young and tasty and leave them alone as they grow older, they don't feed usually on humans, just animals and demigods"
It seemed like Batman or more appropriately for this situation Bruce wasn't even listening, his mind still stuck at the announcement of your death
"If it'd make you feel better, you can take a break for a while... I know what it's like to lose family, we all do, let yourself grieve Batman, you might be a hardcore vigilante but you're still a father" (to everyone but name) Barry suggests
Starfire has been trying to calm Dick down, his breathing has become irregular and unstable, switching between deep and short breaths
_________________________
Jon runs after Damian, it looked like any second, the unbeatable demon spawn fell to his knees
"Damian! Are you okay!?" Jon asks
"I-i thought it'd only last a few days... Maybe a week if they're incompetent, or maybe months if we're unlucky" Damian started to cough
He took off his robin mask and took a deep breath "Since there was no body, I was fine, I thought they're okay, maybe a few injuries here and there, but they're alive so it's fine, but- the reason there was no body... Was because she was eaten- by stupid, how'd -" Jon didn't know what to do, between the both of them, Damian was the composed one
Then two of his siblings came, Jason and Tim
"what the fuck? Demon spawn?" Jason was surprised, and immediately glared at Jon, accusingly looking at him for making his brother this way
Jon put his up defensively "I didn't do anything, promise, I'm trying to comfort him!"
Tim knelt down with Damian "what happened?"
"(Name) is dead"
And suddenly it feels like nothing matters anymore
____________________________
"okay! And this'll be your bed!" Selina ended the tour of the cabin
Selena Beauregard, Daughter of Aphrodite, she was your sister, Gosh you have a sister! And she was nice! She wasn't like Cass who for some reason, closed her eyes everytime you tried to communicate with her
Barbara pretended to be busy, too busy, what do you mean you have to work? Didn't your workplace get burned down by two-face two days ago?
Steph- at least she was honest, she straight up told you she' didn't want anything to do with you
A guy with blonde hair and blue eyes walked out of the bathroom, a nice change from the black and blue eyes you're used to
"hey! You're our new sister! The one who was flirting with that Hephaestus kid-"
"Aster! (Name) Told me they were just friends and if they were flirting what's wrong with that? Love is love" Selena came to your rescue
Aster tilted his head confused with the way you're shifting "what's wrong?" He asked
"aren't people in Greek mythology who are named after flowers turn into them?" You nervously fiddle with your fingers
With that some of your siblings who are in their respective spaces burst out laughing and Aster is hugging you laughing whilst explaining that in Greek mythology "the people came first, not the flower"
That seemed to calm you down a bit, then another girl, whose name is Drew spoke up "so (Name) who's your mortal parent?"
You freeze up at this question but the other kids seemed normal about it
"don't worry (Name) it's some game we play, cause mom's standards are high, we compare mortal parents" Another one one your brothers said, his name is Castillo, he had a faded hair color of blue to purple that reminded you of Ramona flowers
(this is actually canon in Pjo, lmao)
He continued "my father was a famous k-pop idol" he bragged
A little girl then shouted "My dad was a model for Designer clothing!"
Selena rolled her eyes "So whose your dad (Name)?"
You didn't want to answer that, but at the same time- this is the first sibling playing you've ever been in, you're included here!
"my dad is Bruce Wayne... You can look me up on Google- but he, he really wasn't the best- umm dad"
"THE BRUCE WAYNE?" Someone gasps
"i thought his name was Brucie?"
You hear in the background
"I didn't know he was an asshole" Aster muttered
"come on bro, the guy parties all day and he's with children, how could you ever think that guy's a good father?" Castillo shrugs his shoulders
"that's okay (Name), a lot of mom's lovers are vain, taking it too seriously in their heads that they slept with the goddess of beauty, that's why mom stopped revealing herself, there are rare moments, but they're rare" another sister of yours says
You honestly feel so at home here...
________________________
I'm now realizing that the "Neglected daughter" fandom is literally so small, I just saw like three of my readers in another fic I was reading XD
Let's support each other!!!! :3
Also the characters without description are canon characters, people who are actually in pjo
The one with descriptions are OC's!
So Drew and Selena are canon characters! :3
Callisto and Aster aren't
I hope you enjoy the chapter!
@wpdarlingpan @mountvesuvu @nathaly36 @delias-stuff @vanessa-boo @bat1212 @sadslasher13 @ellaprime7
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gay-dorito-dust · 1 year ago
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Hello! I loved your last hobie fic btw it was really good!!
Imagine that in hobies universe you died but when he travels to miles universe he sees you alive 😭 and then the reader introduces themselves to him the same way they did in his universe
Keep feeding us with these ATSV fics 😈😈
Have a great day!!!
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Thank you for enjoying my Hobie Brown stuff anon cuz he’s been invading my mind recently. I hope to god this is okay for ya. 🦦
Hobie remembered first meeting you as though it were yesterday, you were within an alleyway vandalising the walls with your spray paint, he happened to be passing by when one of your masterpieces caught his eye; it was of him…well him as Spider-Man clocking a cartoonish Osborne -appropriately adorned with devil horns and a tail- in the head with his eyes crossed out in red spray paint as though he were dead.
It got a good chuckle out of him that was for sure and from that alone he knew he had to know you more on a personal level. ‘Whatcha gonna call that?’ He asked aloud, making you jolt, you were pretty sure you had chosen a spot where you weren’t going to get caught by the authorities or those that’d grass you up for expressing how you truly felt about Osborne and all those just like him. You shrugged, looking up at your finished product before looking back over at Hobie, ‘dunno yet,’ you told him truthfully, ‘my working titles are either anarchy incarnate or death to capitalism.’
Hobie hummed in approval, but he thought you could do better, ‘how about anarchy is the death of capitalism?’ He suggested and he couldn’t never forget the light in your eyes upon hearing his working title, that in the midst of your excitement you had grabbed him by the arm, ‘that’s it! That’s what I should call it, you’re a genius man!’ You cried before realising what you did and immediately removed your hand from his arm, ‘sorry about that.’ Hobie dismissed your apology by slinging an arm over your shoulder. ‘Nah, don’t give me that shit, you shouldn’t have to apologise for being yourself for that’s what they want you to do.’
‘I don’t think I ever got your name.’ You said. ‘Hobie. Hobie brown and may I get to know the name of the amazing artist behind this.’ Hobie gestured to the spray painting. ‘Y/n l/n.’ You replied. ‘Well y/n, I think we’re going to get along quite well.’ And you did.
So when your untimely death happened, Hobie felt as though he were Achilles having lost his Patroclus. He cradled your body into his arms even long after you had said your final words, ‘keep fighting the good fight, my little anarchist.’ and much longer after it had already gone cold. You had told him that you were heading out to go spray paint with some people you’ve met and the worst soon came when despite knowing that you didn’t have to, you still went out of your way to act as a distraction so that the rest may escape; which resulted in the way that it did.He knew he should’ve gone with you that day because then maybe you would still be alive and taking the piss out of him for worrying about you but he didn’t, so you weren’t.
Ever since then Hobie had made it his goal to keep fighting for not only his chase but yours as well in your memory. He made you a memorial in the exact same place where you first met, always paying it a visit whenever he felt as though he needed you with him, which has lead him to start talking to your spray pairings as though they were actually you. There was without a shadow of a doubt that you were quite possibly one of the greatest artists to have ever lived, alongside with being an avid inspiration to many to the youths who felt as though they had no way of expressing themselves when feeling slighted by the society they were born in. Hell you even inspired him! So much so that there were a multitude of songs he would perform that depicted a individual with stardust in their eyes, a rebellious fire in their heart and a insatiably need to insight the themes of anarchy within anything they touched.
After your death Hobie kept a good portion of your things; such as your spray cans that would never get used, your clothes that still clung onto the very last essence of you much like he did and even kept the picture you took together after helping you finish a project you had been wanting to pursue for a long while; and who would’ve thought that it would be him, not as Spider-Man, just good old Hobie Brown with the message, ‘keep fighting the good fight, my little anarchist.’
So when he caught himself walking down a alleyway much like he did long ago but this time in a completely new place, he felt as though he was being hit with a wave of de ja vu when his ears picked up on the familiar hissing sound of a spray can. It was like he was back there again and if his memory serves him right, he knew what was to come next the moment he, Gwen and Miles made it into a clearing where they were greeted with the sight of someone’s back as they were deeply engrossed with their own handy work. ‘You’re going to love them Hobie, they’re like super cool and awesome.’ Gwen told him but her words went in one ear and out the next as he stared up at the spray painting of Miles as Spider-Man mid swing; it was beautiful without a doubt but they style in which it was drawn was all too familiar.
‘Whatcha gonna call that?’ Hobie had said without realising it until you jolted before turning to look directly at him, regaining your composure, ‘dunno yet.’ You shrugged and your voice sounded like an echo to the past for Hobie who so desperately wanted to pinch himself in that moment. ‘my working titles are either a bright new era or rising above all expectations.’ Hobie didn’t say anything for he knew he was going to say something that would only scare you away, just because you were another version of his y/n didn’t mean you shared the same memories; to you, he was just another spider-man from another reality, he wasn’t your Hobie despite how he wish he was but he knew he couldn’t put that on you.
He also couldn’t blame you for being alive while his version of you was dead. It wouldn’t be fair on you for being blamed for something that wasn’t your fault to begin with and it wouldn’t be fair on him either, as despite how many times he made himself believe that he has accepted your death, his heart would remind him that he truly hadn’t. You were such a pivotal part of his life that he couldn’t seem to let go of. ‘Hmm, both titles sound cool but I think we can do better.’ Miles pipped up, breaking Hobie out of his headspace that was running rampant with all the best memories you shared together. ‘How about…the bright new era of rising above all expectations?’ Hobie interjected.
You made a face at the suggestion before a wide smile spread across your face as you lost yourself in your excitement and grabbed ahold of his arm like you did when your first met, ‘that’s it! That’s what I should call it! You’re a genius dude, thank you.’ But before you could remove your hand from his arm, Hobie grasped your hand and held it firmly. ‘I don’t believe I told you my name, it’s Hobie by the way.’ Your excused his actions as an exchange of formal greeting and grasped onto his hand with the same about of force. ‘Nice to meet you Hobie, I’m y/n.’
‘I know’ is what Hobie desperately wanted to say but kept it all contained under a strained smile.
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larluce · 10 months ago
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Merlin traveling back in time to save Arthur AU but with a twist!!
Merlin makes it to the sidhes, bringing a barely breathing Arthur with him. As expected, they ask for a price and Merlin offers his life, ignoring Arthur's protests.
Sidhe1: You're inmortal you can't die
Sidhe2: And even if you could, killing you would mean killing magic itself, therefore killing the earth itself.
Merlin: (crying desperate) I don't care! Take what you need! My blood, my magic, anything! Just save him!
Sidhe1: (smiling evily) I might know just the thing.
They never tell him what are they going to take from him, but he agrees. The sidhes start the ritual, while Arthur just keeps pleading weakely
Merlin: (smiling) If I somehow don't come back-
Arthur: (crying) Stop! Merlin don't do this. Please!
Merlin: I just want you to know that I love you.
Before Arthur can answer the ritual ends and Merlin blacks out.
When he wakes up he is in his way to Camelot in his old clothes and 10 years younger. He soon discovers he's been brought back to the very first day he met Arthur. He's confused. Have the Sidhes taken from him years of his life as a price? It doesn't make sense to him, but he decides to take advantage of this to prevent some things from happening.
Time goes by and while, in general, all events are repeating, not everything is happening as he remembers. Some people arrive in his live early, like Lancelot or Gawain. And Arthur treats him better? Like he says thank you to him more often and listens to him more. Merlin thinks it’s weird, but brushes it off thinking it’s due to the changes he's been making that some things are not quite the same.
Then the day comes when he finally reveals his magic to Arthur. He cries and Arthur hugs him telling everything its okey. Nothing its going to happen to him. Shortly after however Arthur also has a confession.
Arthur: I already knew.
Merlin: What?! Since when?
Arthur: the very start.
Merlin: How? I've been careful! More careful than before!
Arthur: Because you told me before. Well, not really before, but in the future. It’s complicated.
Merlin: Wait... you are from the future too?!
They are both surprised. They thought they were alone in this and it turns out they never were. Merlin cries all over again, apologazing for everything, for failing him, for not being able to save him, but-
Arthur: You did.
Merlin: ... What?
Arthur: You did save me.
Merlin: No, the sidhes tricked me. They sent us back in time-
Arthur: It was not them who did that. It was me.
Merlin: What... what are you saying?
Turns out what the ritual really did was turn Merlin into a small tree in exchange for saving Arthur’s life. A magic tree that would grow taller and taller and never die and whose ruts would expand making magic florish in the earth forever. Arthur of course was really upset after that. He demanded the sidhes to turn Merlin back but they only told him "what's done it's done" and that all he could do was pick the tree up before the roots growed if he wanted to move it elsewhere.
Arthur put the tree in a pot and brought it back to Camelot. Everyone was devasted with the news but they were also glad their king was alive and safe. No one blamed him, but Arthur always blamed himself. He repealed the ban as soon as he could and made sure everyone knew Merlin's involvement in the battle and later the other things he find out Merlin did for Camelot through Gaius. He made an anual event and a statue in Merlin's honor. Camelot slowly but surely welcomed magic again and became the most prosperous kingdom in the land.
Merlin: Oh...I don't remember being a tree.
Arthur: Yeah, I figured.
Merlin: But you repealed the ban! That's great! Magic was free again in the-wait... so why did you do all this if everything was fine? And how did you do it?
Arthur: Everything was NOT fine Merlin. You weren't there!
Merlin: (utterly confused) I was. As a tree.
Arthur: You know what I mean! You were there but you weren't. We mourned you but you were still alive. I kept you in that pot for longer that I should have because I wanted to keep you close all the time, yet looking at you was so painful... Gwen had to scold me into finally plant you in the garden so you could grow properly. I was broken inside, while trying to rule a kingdom. I kingdom we should have ruled together from the start!
Merlin: ...
Merlin: You're telling me you somehow traveled us back in time and throw away the golden age, your dream of uniting all Albion and all you worked hard for... just because you missed me?
Arthur: And because I couldn't say it back.
Merlin: What?
Arthur: That I love you too.
NEXT PART OF THIS AU HERE -> PART 2
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hauntedbythefanficsofmypast · 3 months ago
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Not so Fake
Masterlist
Tim stationed himself in the third sitting room in the Manor. It was the closest to the kitchen, and furthest from the bedrooms and entrance of the manor. In other words, the perfect hiding spot from his overactive family that have united to try and make Tim rest. The only member that would find him right away would be Alfred, who already left him a cup of tea with a few of his cookies along with one of his laptops.
A note left on top stating that Alfred expected him to actually relax, and spotting the stickers Tim could tell this was his personal laptop. Taking Alfred seriously, Tim booted up YouTube and decided to watch his new favorite, GalacticPhantom, or Danny. He had found the channel a few months ago when one of his search engines caught a mention of Tim Drake and Red Robin being the same person.
The video in question had started off with a very well made video of the camera zooming down from a space view of the Earth to Danny’s home town, through his window and coming to a screeching halt in front of Danny and his friend Wes. The opening was highly impressive to Tim and the twenty-five minute video that followed had Tim wanting to pull his hair out.
Everything Wes said was true, completely true.
Tim was absolutely stunned and terrified because the other teen had managed to fully pull together who Red Robin was without even being in Gotham. The only thing that stopped Tim from calling a meeting about it, was that no one in the comments believed him. Instead Wes was mocked with the tried and true, ‘what do the butts match?’. He ended up watching every video under the playlist, ‘Wes the Detective’ and every single video hit right on the money but absolutely no one believed him. 
Well, no one but his friends it seemed. Tim had a couple theories about it and if it wasn’t for the fact that Wes has his identity clock he’d be staking out the town now. So he chose to stick to the theory that Wes was incredibly smart, but cursed in some way.
However today Danny had posted a new video and Tim could barely wait to watch it. The title was called ‘This thing wont leave me alone.’ and the thumbnail showed a screaming Danny holding a broom with a humanism but clearly not human girl spiderman to his ceiling seemingly hissing at him.
Tim grinned as he pressed play and settled back into the couch to watch. As the intro came to an end it found Danny in the closet of his bedroom speaking into the camera as if he was documenting his last moments.
“Hello everyone and welcome back to my channel.” He whispered softly only stopping at a noise outside the door that sounded like nails scratching against something. “What the—” the chittering of a badger interrupted him to cover his curse. “Today I’m hiding in my closet because this demon thing showed up and won’t leave me alone.” Something being knocked over in the background was heard causing Danny to freeze again. “I am taking my stand though, I have my makeshift weapon and-and I’m gonna face it. In the event that I don’t come out of this alive, Tucker you can have my Doomed character, Sam just ask them out already, Val you can sell all my stuff, and Wes I’m sorry I gaslight everyone in school that one time into thinking you weren’t real.” 
“That was—you Danny, oh you better hope you don’t survive after this!” Wes snapped from behind the camera, his curse being covered by bird chirps, and a second later Tucker’s head popped up from the bottom right screen. 
“You’re focusing on that rather than the fact Danny said that all to the screen like we weren’t even here.” Danny shushed them all dramatically holding his broom in front of him like a weapon.
“It is time. Remember me views, remember me.”
“So—dramatic.” Sam is heard but not shown on camera, soon after Danny is shown bursting out of the closet startling the humanoid creature with white hair and bright neon green eyes. 
Tim assumes the creature is one of their little siblings decked out in a creepy cosplay, a really creepy one that Sam definitely had to have a hand in making.
The girl immediately starts screeching and hissing at Danny who starts screaming back before starting to swat at her with the broom. Only for her to drop on all four and start crawling around to dodge him.
“Why won’t you stay still!!” Danny cried out as he panted slightly out of breath. The girl let out an evil cackle starting to crawl toward him and the others fast as he head began to turn to the point that it was upside down. Everything was silent before Danny began screaming hysterically while hitting the girl with the broom before she managed to jump on him and they began to fight. The video cut off right as the girl got a good hit on his nose, only to come back to Danny back in the closet with a bloody nose.
“You okay man?” Wes asked from behind the camera as Danny just stared dazed ahead. Danny turned to him, eyes unfocused as he stared at the camera.
“Do-do I call an exorcist? Do we have exorcists around us? Bro I have a demon in my house, and my parents who are ghost hunters can’t even detect it. What do I do?”
“Danny, I think she might have broken your Lego space shuttle.” Val was heard and seconds later Danny was shown back outside the closet in a screaming match with her while fist fighting and rolling all over the ground. 
“THAT LEGO SET COST ME FOUR MONTHS ALLOWANCE!!”
“I’M GOING TO MAKE YOU REGRET BREAKING IT!”
“ALL I DID WAS HIT YOU WITH A BROOM!”
The girl seemed to be responding to him in either gibberish, or a language they created. Which only seemed to anger Danny more.
“ENGLISH! SPEAK ENGLISH!!” The girl paused, stopping herself from landing a solid punch to his cheek before grinning at the confused teen.
“No.” Danny seemed stunned before anger took over again and the fight continued.
“You can_____speaking english! You____daughter of a______!!” The feed cut off before returning to Danny who was sitting on the bed of his wrecked room. The girl in question nowhere to be seen as Val cleaned some blood off Danny's cheek with a grin.
“I don’t know where she went, but I know she is still in my house. Tune in next time I find her because she better have some money to pay me back for my lego set. Thanks for stopping to watch this episode of mine and until next time, don’t let the ghosts get ya.”
“That was pretty interesting.” Dick said as he stole a cookie from Tim’s plate. “Are all his videos like that?” Tim didn’t even blink at his brother's sudden appearance as he moved to type out a comment.
“For the most part, ya. He’s a shit poster, his content is just a tun of stuff that is so outrageous and realistic but clearly not real.”
‘That fight gave off peak sibling energy. It’s giving, I’m gonna fight my sibling to the death because of one slight inconvenience.’
Jason hummed as he picked his book back up, dropping down in front of the couch to reread Pride and Prejudice. “Ya he was definitely fighting his little sister. He held back too much and she wasn’t pulling her punches.” 
“Only Drake would spend his time watching pointless videos.” Damien huffed, causing Tim to roll his eyes.
“Awe Dami, you know Tim is on mandatory rest. No work of any kind.” Dick grinned before jumping up, wrapping his arms around Damien and dragging him down onto the couch.
“Richard!! Let me go this instant!!” Damien screamed struggling to get away from his octopus of an older brother.
“No! I need my little brother cuddles and I need them from my Dami! No escape for you now.” Damian kept fighting Dick’s hold for the next twenty-five minutes while Tim put another of Danny’s videos on and rewatched it with Jason and Dick watching as well. The video in question was one where Danny went through a locker with his friends and went back in time to when his school first opened. Jason snorted, commenting on them making everything black and white. Danny meets a seemingly see-through kid named Sidney Poindexter and it ends with the two of them having a dance off.
“Bruce, why the fuck are your kids watching a video of a kid dancing with an Infinite Relams ghost?” Tim paused, staring blankly at his computer screen before turning to look at Bruce and John Constantine. “Wow holy shit, the Infinite Realms rarely interact with us since Luthor let the Anti-Ecto Acts pass. Yet that kid is interacting with one like their friends.”
“You’re saying this shits real?” Jason asked, closing his book looking at the screen more interested.
“Language Master Jason.” Alfred said as he walked in from a tray of tea for everyone.
“Sorry Alfred.” John nodded as he moved closer, eyes trained on Poindexter.
“If it is not real it is still more similar than could be possible. They’ve definitely had interactions with the Realms.”
“Wait, what are the Anti-Ecto Acts?” Tim asked his attention zeroing in on John.
“Well fuck, you don’t know? It affects like all of you, thought for sure you’d know. Shit this is gonna take so long to explain. We’re gonna have to call a JL meeting for this explanation because I’m not doing it twice.”
Of Meetings and Musings
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chaptersleftunwritten · 4 months ago
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Strawberry Fields Forever
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Blurb: You go on a picnic date with some friends, not expecting to rile Eddie up.
Pairing: Perv!Eddie Munson x Friendly!Fem!Reader
Warnings: 18+ This is basically smut with a tiny bit of plot, cursing/swearing, some light mentions of alcohol, corruption kink, praising, exhibitionism, oral (f & m receiving), oral fixation, choking, fingering, teasing.
-
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The sun flushed the earth with an unwavering heatwave and everyone in Hawkins was struggling to keep cool during this scorcher of a summer. There was no hiding from it. The humidity even penetrated the shade- no where was safe.
Naturally you seek out the forest, travelling along a trail with Steve, Nancy, Robin, Eddie and some of the younger bunch who had begged to come alone. They wanted to go swimming in Lover’s Lake and you wanted to have a picnic next to the water.
“Fuck me,” Eddie groans, dragging his feet behind you, “Can’t we just stay in here? It must be hotter than Hell out there.” In a huff, Eddie shrugs off his denim jacket, exposing his tatted arms as he slings the coat over his shoulder. He wore a black t-shirt, of all colours he chose black, no wonder he was melting into a puddle.
Steve wipes at his sweaty forehead with his forearm, his long mousy brown hair sticking to his sun kissed skin, “Eddie has a point, I’m sweating my balls off here.” Nancy snorts a laugh, her fingers interlocked around Steve’s bicep.
Robin marches in front of you, on a mission to try and keep up with the others children whom had snuck off into the distance, squealing and revelling in the great outdoors. Robin evidently being fearful that they were going to run off or worse- disappear.
“C’mon guys, it’s not so bad! Maybe you should have worn more appropriate clothes,” Your dig is aimed at Eddie and he rolls his eyes, panting in response. He is clearly hating how his hair seems to be gluing itself to his neck.
“I’ll take my shirt off if you pay me,” He wiggles his eyebrows at you, his lips baring a wolfish grin, “This ain’t a free show, sweetheart.” He fans at his face, his flirtatious attempt quickly evaporating with his rising body temperature.
You take a hair tie from your wrist, handing it to Eddie, “You’ll be a lot cooler if you tie up that nest of yours.”
He gapes at you, offended, “Wow…” he drags out the word, “And here I was thinking that we were finally getting along.” You giggle at him before continuing your pursuit further, trying to catch up with the two love birds who had somehow overtaken you.
“It’s not long now, only a little further.” You call back to Eddie who is slugging behind you. Usually Eddie loved being outdoors, but in this heat? He would rather be dead.
The only thing keeping Eddie alive at the moment was the view he had of you from behind. Your ass is clad in the cutest pair of light denim shorts he had ever seen, hugging your thighs and body perfectly. You wore a red checkered blouse on top that slipped effortlessly from your shoulders, exposing the mounds of your breasts to him every so often. He was already fighting for his life against an erection.
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So when the pale yellow and pink picnic blanket was set down onto the unnervingly fried grass and Eddie watched you unload the weaved basket he couldn’t help but notice when your eyes light up at the sight of a massive bowl of strawberries.
“My favourite!” You squeal happily, flashing the bowl to Eddie he chuckles heartily, his legs crossing over one another as he lays back, propped up on one elbow.
“Strawbs are good, I guess.” His shoulders shrug.
“You guess? They are the superior fruit, Ed’s!” This was a debate you were willing to fight until your dying breath. You would die on this hill.
Eddie plucks one from the bowl, examining the red fruit before he pushes the whole thing into his mouth, taking a moment to chew before swallowing.
“Y’know, I’ve always thought strawberries were much better with a little bit of cream…” Eddie’s tongue dances out onto his lips, licking them clean of any juices that may have escaped.
He doesn’t mean for it to sound so dirty, but when you don’t register it that way Eddie sees this as an opportunity; to make this into a fun little game where he is a perverted fuck and you are absolutely oblivious to it all.
“Hmm,” you hum in response, not batting an eyelash to Eddie’s cream comment as you push a strawberry between your lips, biting on the pointed end of it softly- savouring the flavour.
Glancing around you see nearby on the blanket Steve has his tongue wedged down Nancy’s throat. She’s nearly choking on it as they sloppily dish out kisses. Talk about no shame..
Robin is on life guard duty- or so she says. In reality, she just wants to do cannonballs into the water with the kids, splashing them and fighting with them. Jokingly pushing Dustin’s head beneath the water whilst Mike tries to do the same to Will.
Dustin emerges, crying attempted murder and you laugh hysterically, shaking your head proudly at their free spirits.
“Are you thinking of going in the water?” You flick your attention back to Eddie and he can’t help himself from staring as you wrap your lips coyly around a massive strawberry. Your eyes peeking innocently up at him has his cock threatening to burst in his jeans and the thought of the strawberry being replaced by his thick manhood leaves him feeling dizzy.
“Possibly,” he gulps, his crossed legs becoming more tightly acquainted, “You?” He cracks open a can of beer, taking a light swing to cleanse his drying throat.
You nod, looking between the lake and Eddie, “I might- it looks like they are having so much fun.” You sigh, feeling the most relaxed you have a in a while. It’s not as hot anymore now that you have sat down.
“You should.”
‘Please!’ Eddie thinks to himself. He doesn’t know why, but you have him totally bewitched. His hungry gaze never leaving your mouth as dark pink juice stains your lips. You slurp to try and prevent it from spilling all over you, the pad of your thumb swiping quickly at the leaky corners of your mouth.
Eddie thinks he might combust into flames right there and then, biting his tongue harshly to try and keep a groan lodged in his throat- can he taste blood?
“Do I have something on my face Ed’s?” You ask after feeling his eyes on you for a prolonged period of time, your fingers tips tracing your cheeks gently.
Eddie shakes his head, “No, love. Not a single drop touched your chin.” His voice is low, nearly a growl as it leaves his mouth.
From his side Eddie can sense Steve’s amused smirk on him. You might have been unknowing to Eddie’s game, but Steve knew exactly what the ‘freak’ was up to. It relieved him to see Eddie finally trying to shoot his shot with you- it had only taken him a year and a half.
“You would tell me, right?” You giggle, scooting closer to his lanky frame, “Promise?”
“Promise.” He tucks a rogue strand of your hair behind your ear and heat unrelated to the sun prickles at your cheeks, causing you to advert your gaze.
Eddie almost coos aloud at how adorable you are. He can guess that you’ll taste even more sugary than the fruit you’re sucking on, “Can I…” He picks up another strawberry, bringing it to your mouth. You hold eye contact with him as he swirls the tip of the fruit across the plumpness of your lips, allowing the lowest groan to emit from his throat.
“Open wider,” His demand comes out as a bark and you slacken your jaw, your mouth gaping open wider for him to slot the strawberry inside. Eddie’s own jaw laid slack, his soft eyes on you unabashedly, “Does it taste good, princess?”
You nod, your tongue slick with juice from the strawberry. It wasn’t foreign for Eddie to call you sweet pet names, but something inside of you stirs at his voice. Sure you thought Eddie was attractive, often times you’d fantasies over him… but it hadn’t ever gotten this intense in real life.
You’d take every compliment from him with a grain of salt, but with the way his darkened eyes are staring at you now, it leads you to believe that something may be upon the horizon.
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“What’d you say?” Eddie’s eyebrows knit together, his eyelids narrowing at you distastefully.
“Uhm…” it takes a moment for the gears inside of your head to turn, “Thank you?” It is more of a question rather than a response, luckily Eddie seems satisfied nonetheless.
“Exactly,” He grins at you dirtily, “Don’t go forgetting your manners now, babe. I know you’re a good girl.”
An inaudible sound leaves your windpipe as you try to contain the feverish blush that has claimed your face as its own. Your heart is quick inside of your chest and you can’t ignore the fluttering of your stomach and the pulse between your thighs. No one had ever made you feel like this before. No one was crazy enough to speak this filthy to you in person. So blatant and forward.
Just before Eddie can say anything more, water hits you both. So lost in your own world you had forgotten about your friends who you had came here with.
“Are you guys just going to sit there or what?!” Robin exclaims in a high pitched tone, visibly vexed at your unwillingness to join in.
Steve and Nancy were stripping down to their underwear, something that didn’t phase you in the slightest. You look to Eddie for some sort of guidance and he shrugs his shoulders, leaving the choice to you.
“I’m happy here! Sorry- love you though!” You announce loudly and Robin rolls her eyes, shouting back that she loved you too before she was swimming off. It seemed like the group were venturing further down stream, leaving you and Eddie totally invisible to them.
“Good choice,” He purrs into your ear, making you jump slightly startled at his close proximity.
“I don’t mind spending time alone with you, Eddie.” You reply honestly and Eddie toys with a piece of your hair in his fingers, twirling and twisting it.
He hums, intrigued, “Is that so?” Eddie knew he was pushing you, but fuck, was it fun.
You suck on your bottom lip, teeth nibbling at the skin as you nod your head, “You make me feel.. happy.” The words come out as a low mumble, your finger tips playing with the hem of your shorts as you try to busy your nervous hands.
Eddie rumbles a chuckle, “I know a few other ways to make you feel ‘happy’…” You are desperate to avoid his cocoa coloured orbs, but Eddie isn’t having none of it as he gasps your chin sternly with his fingers, pulling your face to him.
“H..how so?” You wish the ground would swallow you whole as you stumble pathetically over your words. He hadn’t even touched you intimately and yet, you can’t think straight.
From your chin, Eddie’s fingers tickle down the front of your throat, hesitating there he decided to take a leisurely second to curl his strong fingers around your trachea. The momentary loss of oxygen makes your eyelids fall to hood your eyes, “Fuck, I could ruin you.” The whole time Eddie continues to gawk at the partition of your lips, and how relaxed you look beneath his touch.
Releasing you slowly he continues his assault on your hot skin, his feathery touch causing goosebumps to erupt after their wake. He palms your breasts through your blouse, grabbing a fist full of the plush flesh which causes you to cry out quietly, “No bra? Such a little fucking tease.” Eddie clicks his tongue, pinching your coiled nipples and roughly plucking at the stiff peaks with his fingertips.
“Ah...” you mewl and Eddie’s ears perk at the sound, like a puppy being called on for the first time.
“Has anyone ever touched you like this before?” His raspy voice asks as his lips pepper a kiss to your exposed shoulder, his tongue running briefly over the skin just because he wanted to taste you. You shake your head, in total awe of him and everything that he is.
“Poor baby,” He pouts out his bottom lip mockingly before his lips stretch into a lascivious grin, “I can take care of you.” His tongue flicks at the lobe of your ear before he is pulling the flesh in between his teeth, gnawing on it playfully.
“But we’re outside…” you remind him, your eyes focusing on the slow current of the water. The sun beating down onto it, making it glisten and glitter in a heavenly way.
“Mhm, we are,” He sucks at your neck, your body jolting ever so slightly at the electricity that zaps at your cunt from the contact, “She likes that, doesn’t she.” Eddie laughs breathily as he pulls back from your jugular, situating himself between your bare legs.
“I bet your pussy tastes so fucking good.” Eddie nuzzles his nose into the soft skin of your inner thigh, causing you to giggle at the ticklish touch of his hair.
“What if someone sees us?” A look over Eddie’s shoulder confirms that the group are way too occupied with one another to even focus on you two.
“They won’t.” His voice drips with confidence and his fingers move with deliberate precision as he rips your denim shorts from your legs, taking a pause to truly admire your underwear, and the darkened wet spot that had the material slick to your pussy lips, “These are cute, baby. You always wear such pretty panties?” He perks an eyebrow whilst his fingertips dance over the lacey fabric and you look at him with wide doe like eyes, stunned by the question and his touch. You hadn’t really thought about it.
“They are just my regulars…” you admit bashfully in a hushed tone and Eddie’s husky groan declares that he really likes that answer.
“Need you so bad,” His fingers hastily hook around the thin elastic of your waistband, “Can I?” Even when he is too horny to think straight, he remains a gentleman.
Feeling just as needy, you nod, and without a beat Eddie is yanking your panties all the wall down your legs, taking them off and shoving them into his jeans pocket.
His large hands catch behind your knees, hoisting your legs up so they sit comfortably on his shoulders. He wastes no time in bringing his mouth to your mound, his tongue frantic as he laps at your soaked core, “Mmm so fucking sweet.” He mutters, his voice dripping with possessiveness. Each caressing touch of his tongue driving you insane as you wrestle to keep yourself quiet.
Your whimpers send Eddie spiralling, awakening something primal within him. He wanted to watch you whither and crumble beneath his touch- he wanted to make you his.
Eddie moans into your dripping cunt, totally self indulging in the very taste of you. Your scent was now his favourite perfume and he wanted it to be seared into his memory forever.
“Oh god…” you pant, your eyes tearful as you look down at Eddie lapping messily between your thighs. You want nothing more than to scream his name at the top of your lungs, but instead you had to settle for silence.
Just when you thought you had mastered the art of biting your tongue, you feel a prodding at your entrance and then a gaping stretch as Eddie pushes two of his fingers deep inside of you, eliciting a grumbly moan from your throat, “You’re so responsive, such a good girl for me.”
The feeling of his long fingers pumping in and out of your sopping wet pussy leaves your eyes rolling to the back of your head, your mouth hanging open when he curls his digits inside of you, massaging that sweet spongy spot.
Eddie has to pry his own lips away from your core, his addiction to you worsening with each passing second, “You’re gushing baby, think you could handle three?”
The noise of your own arousal hits your ears like a symphony and you swear you have never felt pleasure like this before. Even when masturbating, it didn’t compare, “Ed’s.. please..” your voice is a pathetic whine and Eddie smirks at the way your eyes have blown in total submission to him. You’re just as drunk on him as he is on you.
You’re a babbling mess for him and Eddie is contemplating whether or not this is reality or just a really fucking good dream that he’s having, “That’s it, baby, fuck my fingers.” Your hips buck upward to meet each thrust of Eddie’s fingers and you nearly cry out- seconds away from blowing your little operation but thankfully Eddie manages to clutch his hand harshly over your mouth, “Shhh!” He warns with a smile as your eyes glaze over with pure lust. A tightness brews in your lower stomach, a blissful burn that you chase and chase and the next thing you know you’re a shaking mess, your thighs pressed firmly together entrapping Eddie’s hand inside of you as you cum- hard, screaming into Eddie’s palm.
“Clever girl, taking my fingers so well, darling.” Eddie winks down at you, his lips punctured by his two front teeth as he forces his arousal dripping fingers into your mouth, the pads of his fingers exploring the length of your tongue, “You taste so good, don’t you baby?” You moan around his digits, still fleeting from your release.
“I would love to see those perfect lips of yours wrapped around my cock… you wanna do that, sweet girl?” He palms himself over his jeans, so rock solid that any touch to his cock nearly causes him to burst at the seams, “C’mere.” Eddie is gentle as he takes a hold of your elbows, pulling you in for a quick but heated kiss before he sits you propped up on your knees.
“Lookin’ all pretty, just for me.” You are so gone, your head is in the clouds- mind filled with Eddie, Eddie and more Eddie, “Open up, sweetheart.” Eddie’s fingers glide through your hair, clutching the delicate strands at the root in a domineering grip. You shouldn’t like the pain, but you do.
Obediently you listen to Eddie’s deep voice and you open your mouth nice and wide, sticking out your tongue flatly to allow Eddie’s length to sit comfortably on the muscle, “Shit, princess, have you done this before?” He blurts, the question being rhetorical as a rapacious smile appears on his face as he forces his cock further into your mouth, the tip hitting the back of your throat causing you to gag slightly.
“You can take it, right?” He punctuates his question with a thrust, tears swelling in your eyes as you struggle to breathe. Your nostrils flare, desperate for air as Eddie menacingly fucks your throat, “Just as I imagined.” He beams, balls deep in your mouth as you peer up at him, your nose tickled by his small snail trail leading to his belly button.
“Keep looking at me,” He asserted, his lips parted in astonishment at the image of you in front of him- so picture perfect, he wanted to carry it around in his wallet. You hollow your cheeks, drool pooling from your open mouth and dripping shamelessly down your chin. You can feel the wetness of your own saliva soaking the skin of your thighs, “That’s it, princess, eyes on me.”
“Shhh… I know it’s a lot, don’t cry.” His large thumb wipes your tear streaked cheeks, his eyes swirling with adoration and sin, “I’m so close baby, keep goin’ please.” And you do. Anything to have Eddie be pleased with you. To hear him call you a good girl. His good girl.
Your cheeks ache as your face bobs up and down his length, your chin pressing against his sack every time you meet his base. His hand is tangled messily in your hair now, fucking against your own movements.
A pleasure filled wail leaves Eddie’s mouth, his head thrown back in euphoria as his cum shoots far into your mouth, leaking down your oesophagus.
You both stay that way for a moment afterwards, Eddie’s hips rutting gently against your tongue as he allows his high to subside.
“You okay?” He muses, checking your features for any sort of discomfort or sadness.
“Yeah,” you reply, a happiness apparent in your cheerful voice, “Thank you.”
He starts himself up and pulling his jeans securely back around his waist, however it takes him mere seconds before he turns his attention to you. Dropping to his knees he grabs some napkins from your picnic basket, gliding the soft paper tissue over your swollen mouth, “You look so beautiful right now.” He chirps, landing a kiss to your forehead before continuing to clean you up. His touch is tender as he helps you shimmy your denim shorts back onto your hips, his lips littering kisses up your bare legs as he did which causes you to giggle. The moment feels light and airy and you can tell that this is the beginning of something really special.
Without a second to spare, the group approach shore. You are met with raised eyebrows and confusion at your flushed appearance and messy hair.
“So,” Steve interjects with a catty smirk, “What’d we miss?”
-
taglist: @colorful-white-ideas @littlered0000 @ali-r3n @daisy-munson @serenadingtigers
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akumakosuke · 9 months ago
Text
Satoru Gojo was born a god among mortals.
From the moment he opened his eyes he was automatically better than everyone, worth more than everyone.
Satoru Gojo stands alone atop a pedestal at the pinnacle of Jujutsu Sorcery, forever destined to bask in the glory of being the strongest. No one could ever dream to reach his level, he didn’t dream to reach his level but it was cast on him like a curse.
He is a cursed child indeed.
Exactly a week after the miracle birth of Satoru Gojo another clan also welcomed a miracle birth.
M/n Goto was born a god among mortals.
From the moment he opened his eyes he was automatically better than everyone, worth more than anyone…except…
M/n Goto forced the pedestal to grow.
Satoru Gojo tipped the balance of the scales and M/n Goto totally destroyed the scale.
All curse users went into hiding, curses became almost completely inactive for an entire year following the birth of two gods.
During the first few years of their lives they remained blissfully unaware of how deep their destinies intertwine, how truly connected they are.
The day they met was another day to go down in the history books.
Two lone gods, wandering a world that will forever be beneath them, filled with people who will forever be beneath them.
Their paths cross and in that moment time stands still for the young gods, a feeling they’ve never experienced, a sudden tugging at their souls, telling them to turn around and they do.
Crystal-like icy blue orbs clash with star-like fiery red orbs and in that moment two lonely gods became a little less lonely.
The two grew close much to the dismay of many. They knew of their places in the world and they knew no one else understands but them. No one else understands they’re cursed children.
Days of meeting for play dates turned into weekend sleepovers, weekend sleepovers turned into months of bonding, months slowly turned into years and M/n and Satoru thrived, they grew and changed but their bond only got deeper.
They pushed each other to the limits, forcing the other to evolve and keep up and evolve they did.
By the age of 15 they were both Special Grade sorcerers heading into their first year at Jujutsu tech.
Their relationship has also evolved over the years much like their power.
They’re best friends, sure they’re closer than most best friends. They have regular sleepovers and share the same bed, unable to fall asleep without cuddling and sure they are affectionate in public, always staying glued to the others side, an arm around a shoulder here, hands resting on the others hips there and maybe they have kissed a few times but that’s just them being best friends, totally platonic!
Do they have an unspoken agreement to reject any advances from other people? Yes.
Do they acknowledged the agreement? No, that’s why its unspoken, just like the reason they reject everyone else, an unspoken mutual agreement to be each others and only each others without putting any labels on it, besides its not like there’s anyone else alive that could ever tear them apart, come between them or even stand on the same level as them.
Suguru Geto.
The moment M/n and Satoru met Suguru their pedestal was forced to widen again.
They were confronted by another and they had mixed feelings about sharing.
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Okay so I was thinking of making this into an entire fic but im not sure.
I have a lot of ideas already, especially about the in depth relationship of the three of them and how they would function.
It would focus on M/n, Satoru and Suguru and how their relationship develops throughout the years in Jujutsu Tech and what would happen during the hidden inventory arc with M/n present and how he would affect the story.
There will be smut of course with Domtop Amab M/n and Subbot Satoru and Suguru .
Let me know if I should make a full on fic or just a smut with a bit of plot sprinkled in~!
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seresinhangmanjake · 2 months ago
Note
kind of an angsty prompt, reader is one of feyd’s more “unpopular” concubines, never actually having been acknowledged by him and as a result is treated pretty badly since she is seen as “undesirable”. but one day when house harkonnen is having a celebration and other houses are invited, she catches the attention of paul atreides, who is desperate to take her as his own. the baron concedes, since feyd doesn’t pay her any attention, but over the years feyd gets to know more about her personality and falls for her, as she has more power as paul’s sole concubine and can assert herself much better than when she was his. kinda a “didn’t know what you had till you lost it situation”.
The Only One
Feyd-Rautha x concubine!reader
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Warnings/Notes: I made it a little bit different, so I hope that's ok. The chronology of this is all messed up from the movies. People are alive who wouldn’t be, but just go with it. People being owned. Feyd is grumpy boy. Slight smut, so 18+. Angsty-ish, but lighter ending. Cursing.
Words: 3300
Feyd-Rautha Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag list
Your mother once told you that love was wonderful. Just like that. Simple words, as if factual, as if love were so stunningly special that it didn’t need flowery language to prove it’s worth. Love is wonderful and one day you will see so for yourself. That’s what she said. But what did she know, really. She was a blip in the universe who promised you would partake in an experience that has done you more harm and little good. This love she spoke of—you’ve seen it. Worse, you’ve felt it. And it is nothing like she described. It has been anything but wonderful. 
Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen does not love you. In fact, if he were to love at all, you wouldn’t even make the list of potential receivers of that love. There are many in line before you. Three, to be exact—his harpies. Were he capable of love, he would love them. They are the ones he visits in the night, not you. They are the ones he keeps at his side, not you. Like you, they are owned by him, but unlike you, they are paraded around while you are cast aside. 
You don’t know why he claimed you if he was never going to use you. He declared you a concubine—effectively forbidding any hands other than his on your body—only to leave you untouched for the better part of a year. Untouched. Unloved, in every sense of the word. 
Perhaps it is because you are not like them. You’re not from Giedi Prime and you fumbled to learn their customs, and maybe that was too unattractive. Maybe all he saw in you was a fool failing to adjust to the life he leads, and maybe he could not look past that to see how hard you were trying for him. 
Since you became his property, all you’ve wanted is for him to like you. Not even reciprocate the love you harbor, but simply enjoy your presence and come to you every once in a while rather than allowing the harpies to tend to him. It doesn’t seem like too much to hope for, but you know better. He doesn’t care for you. He paid no attention to you as your heart attached itself to him, and yet it attached with mighty strength anyway. 
You’ve stopped pretending like you don’t know where that leaves you. For some time, you played the mental game. He could grow to love me…one day. If only he paid me a second of attention, he would see my devotion and realize I'm what he’s always wanted. Fairytale stuff used to deflect your fate. But you know your fate, and it isn’t a life by the side of the cruel-hearted man you've come to love. It’s a life alone. 
“Care for a drink?” you hear. 
Without looking in the direction of the voice, you say, “No, thank you,” having been taught that as the sole acceptable answer to a man’s advances. No, because you belong to him. Thank you, because rudeness can start wars. 
“You’ve been standing here all night,” the voice continues. “You have to be thirsty.”
He must know who you are by now. The Hakonnens have hosted grand events before, and you’ve always been present. If the men who have approached you in the past did not know who owned you, they would learn rather quickly. A word from a nearby guard and a glance into Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen’s glare and those men would back off. 
You look Feyd’s way. He’s busy with the harpies. No glare in sight.
“My House brought our finest wines. I can guarantee you would enjoy a taste.”
You can barely hold back your groan. Your head whips in the direction of the voice. “Thank you, but–” You cut yourself off with a gasp.
Paul Atreidies chuckles. The emperor chuckles. “Bring her a glass,” he says to a Harkonnen servant. The servant hesitates for a second, which only you seem to detect. He has no choice but to obey the emperor, yet doing so may cost him his life. Yet, he heads off, disappearing into the crowd toward the refreshments.
“I apologize,” you say as you bow your head in shame. 
His finger crooks under your chin and lifts so your eyes have to meet his. “A pretty face should never be to the ground. Even a concubine’s.”
“You know who I am.”
“Of course I do,” he says. “I’ve seen you before.”
You flush with embarrassment. If he’s noticed you before, then he’s noticed you alone before, standing in this exact spot against the wall. And if he’s noticed you and is willing to talk to you, then he likely pities you. To have the emperor’s pity—a gift or a sign of weakness?
The servant returns, handing you a glass half filled with a deep maroon liquid. Paul Atreides lifts his own glass and clinks it against yours. The rim meets his lips. He takes his sip and then smiles as he watches you do the same. 
He raises a brow. “Good?” You nod. “Good. Would you like more?”
“No,” you reply after hastily swallowing. “Thank you.”
He grins again and then turns so you’re shoulder to shoulder, staring out into the mass of mingling bodies. “I don’t enjoy these,” he says. “My birthdays are more intimate affairs.”
You don’t know what he’s getting at, but insulting the birthday of the Baron’s most promising nephew makes your stomach drop. Were the man beside you not the emperor, and had anyone overheard him, he would have a blade run through him by the end of the night. 
“What good is spending your birthday with people you do not love and who do not love you?” he says, and with great restraint, you keep from spitting that a Harkonnen cannot love and so it makes no difference to them who is around. Then he says, “You know, I could make sure you always have plenty.” 
When you look at him, his head nudges to the glass in your hand. Your heart thumps. “I–I don’t understand what you mean,” you tell him, hoping that what you think you understand from his words is wildly incorrect. 
“You could be mine,” he tells you. “I would like for you to be mine. I would actually touch you, unlike him.” Unlike the man whose neglect has rendered you useless. 
“Surely your wife would not be pleased.”
“She’s used to it,” he says. You didn’t know what else you expected. You’ve heard of the famous Chani. “I intend to ask the Baron for you. Out of politeness, of course.” Because he could just take you if he wanted. He is the emperor, after all. But rudeness… “Would you like that?”
Not unless you like being separated from the organ that keeps your body alive. But then again, that organ has been mutilated to the point that not much else could damage it. 
Your eyes dart to Feyd. He’s watching you from his seat across the room, his blue irises darkened. He cannot do anything about the closeness of Paul Atreides. He wouldn’t, you know, but if he wanted to, he couldn’t. A harpy runs her hand across his cheek. A lump forms in your throat. You look away. 
“I think I would,” you answer. 
“He can’t have her!” 
You can hear him through the grand doors. You’re not supposed to be here, but you couldn’t help yourself. You wanted to know his reaction to you leaving, but you didn’t expect this. You figured he’d send a servant to pack up your belongings and set them by the entrance of the fortress right before shoving you outside with his own two hands. 
“He can,” the Baron says. Something crashes against a wall. Its pieces clink as they hit the ground. 
“She belongs to me! She’s mine!” Feyd shouts. “She–”
“You don’t use her. She’s no great loss to you. If the harpies are insufficient, you can find another elsewhere, but this one now belongs to the Emperor.”
“He's forcing her,” Feyd says. “He's stealing her from me!”
You wonder if anyone other than Paul Atreides knows the truth: that you were offered a chance to leave and have decided to take it. You’re not being stolen. The Emperor did not remove the collar around your neck simply to replace it with one of his own. He asked; you said yes. 
“She agreed,” the Baron answers, effectively ending your curiosity. It shocks you, not seeming like information necessary for an Emporer to tell one of his subjects. “Not that it matters,” he says, and you agree. 
“Make him give her back to me!”
“I’m not interested in increasing tensions between our Houses over some concubine, nephew. Find yourself a new one.”
You know he will. It won’t take him long, and he might actually put his hands on this one. You ignore the clench in your stomach at the thought of his touch on someone other than the harpies. Maybe she would be more like you—color to her cheeks, hair on her head. You hope you never meet her. It’ll make you sick. It would mean it really has been you. All this time, you were the problem. You were the defective one. Only you weren’t worth his attention.
When presence enters your space, you know it’s time. You face the Kaitainian guard, and he turns. You follow him away from Feyd. 
Feyd POV - One Year Later
You carry yourself differently around him. Your back is straighter, chin higher. You keep your hands clasped in front of you at all times. Feyd never made you stand like that, like someone shoved a stick down the back of your dress—your dress, which he hates. 
If you’re going to be dolled up like a present on his birthday, the least his cousin could’ve done was wrap you in colors he likes. Some silver chain or thick, black leather. Not this shimmery golden, flowy fabric of another planet. 
It pisses him off. Showing up in Paul’s clothes, doing your hair up as they do in Kaitain instead of letting it loose around your shoulders, standing as Paul wants you to stand—all of it is like a stamp on the memory of you being taken from him. 
You’re changed, but you no less belong to Feyd than you did before. The real you is still in this new woman somewhere, and he intends to bring you back. 
He’s been planning it for a year. It took him time to gain enough trust from his uncle to be granted full rein of the Harkonnen armies, but all he had to do was prove his ruthlessness and wait until his brother showed himself for the fool he is, and now he has a footing in Arrakis. Complete control over spice production, which he can manipulate from right under his uncle’s nose. Something Paul Atreides wants. 
Reader POV
The second he returns from his meeting with Paul, you can feel him. Watching you. Staring. Drinking you in. You try your best to ignore it, but you can’t help but wonder what he sees when he looks at you now. You’re not the same. For a year, you haven’t lived the life Feyd-Rautha made for you, and in that year, you’ve been exposed to the antithesis of that life. Finer clothes, better food, maidservants of your own, physical touch. You’re treated with kindness, and you have been used as you are meant to be used. 
Unfortunately, that doesn’t mean you are any more loved on Kaitain than you were on Giedi Prime. That place is for Chani. She permanently resides in the eye of the emperor, and you, just off to the side. But you’ve come to accept your reality. You’ve made your peace with never being someone’s first choice. What you haven’t made your peace with is Feyd. 
You wish you could say otherwise, but you still have those feelings stirring inside of you. Love, that even after another year of contemplation, you still don’t understand. He never gave you reason to love him. But you couldn’t help yourself. Watching him from a distance was enough. You fell in love with a man you witnessed show leniency and a form of kindness to women who weren’t you while imagining yourself in their place. It was, and is, pathetic. Yet, you continue to love him. And now you’re seeing him again, and he’s just as beautiful. 
You sneak a glance at him. His eyes are still on you. He’s alone, no harpies to his left or right. Your eyes scan the room. No harpies anywhere.
“Are you alright?” Paul asks as he comes from behind you to be at your side. 
“Yes.” No.
Paul takes a sip of his drink. “I know it must be awkward, but are you enjoying the party? I cannot tell by the look on your face.”
“I am.” You’re not. 
In your peripherals, you see him nod. “I have…” he sighs. When you look at him, his head is tipped downward. 
“You always say beauty should not face the floor,” you tell him. 
“I do,” he says with a smile, lifting his head. He takes a deep breath. “I have to tell you something.” An immediate sense of dread fills your gut. “He’s asked for you back.”
Your body freezes, and then your heart begins to thump against the wall of your chest. It pounds with the ferocity of a hundred drums, almost painful in its desperation for freedom, escape. “And?”
Paul’s eyes find yours. You see the silent apology. “I’ve agreed.”
“What!” is a hushed burst of air. You can’t draw attention to yourself, but you know if anyone is already looking your way, the mask of indifference you’re trying to keep on your face won’t fool them.  
“I’m sorry. He offered me something I cannot refuse.” 
You don’t have to ask if that something is truly more than your worth. By the sight of the emperor, it is worth more than ten times your value to him, and you can’t stand in your spot anymore. Your composure is being chiseled away at by the second, but this is not the place to fall apart. The emperor says your name and for the first time, you don’t respond as you walk off. 
Knowing your way around the place, you find a secluded corner just outside the doors of the grand room. Your breathing is uncontrollable. His. You’re going to be his…again. Or you already are. It sounded as if the deal had been made, signed, and done with. You’re not leaving Giedi Prime at the end of the night. You’re not going back to luxury, comfort. You’re staying put. Once again, ignored and treated as a useless object. Once again, a low member on the list of those Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen wants. 
Suddenly, a stream of light blinds you, the muffled voices rise in clarity, and then both are gone. No light. Dimmed voices. You blink. Feyd is in front of you. 
Scoffing, you say, “What do you want?”
He stares at you some more—a long interlude that makes your nerves wiggly under your skin. Then he walks, he enters your space, he puts his hands on your cheeks, and he kisses you. 
The very first kiss. And you wish it was awful. You wish it didn’t send a zingy shiver down your spine or raise the hair on your arms, but your body doesn’t feel like your own as his lips meld with yours. You’re simply along for the ride, taking what he’s giving. 
When he pulls away, he rests his forehead on yours. “I should’ve kissed you before,” he says through a ragged breath. “You’re so fucking sweet.” And then he goes in for another kiss. Another kiss that you don’t return because you’re too stunned to do so. 
Coming to your senses, you plant your hands firmly on his chest and shove. He stumbles. The surprise of it doesn’t last long. 
“Don’t,” he snaps. “You’re mine again.”
“Why did you do this?” you spit. 
“I never should have been forced to lose you,” he tells you, but you don’t really hear him as your words continue to tumble out of your mouth at a rapid rate. 
“You don’t need me. I’m a waste to you. You never touched me–”
“I didn’t want to ruin you,” he says. “That’s why–”
“You only touched them–”
“Because you were something pure.”
That, you do hear. “Pure!” you shout. “You liked me pure? If so, then you’ve wasted trading whatever you had to have me back. I’m not pure anymore. And do you know why?”
Feyd’s blue irises darken a shade. “Stop.”
“Because I was his,” you say, a whimper in your throat as you reminisce about the ease of the past year of your life. “And he actually used me.”
“Stop!” He grabs your arm. You fight his grip, but it’s a waste of energy—he’s too strong for you—and then you’re being pulled into the closest room. He tries to press his lips to yours and in that moment of vulnerability, you’re able to pull yourself free from his grasp. 
“Don’t you dare! Go to your harpies.”
“They’re dead,” he says, reaching for you again. You leap back, but he manages to catch you. He pulls you close and your chest slams into his. 
“Why?” you say as you struggle, your body wiggling in the circle of his arms. 
“I killed them when you were taken from me.”
Your spine goes rigid. You blanch. “W-Why?”
Feyd groans as if he’s tired of you playing stupid, as if he’s tired of you wasting his time on ridiculous questions with obvious answers. “Because you made them tolerable. I thought of you whenever I had them, but then you were gone, and I couldn’t think about you without thinking I was never going to have you.”
Your lungs lock in all oxygen, and suddenly, against your will, a crack splits the hard shell of your anger. It’s not so simple to believe what he says. That he always wanted you? That you were too precious for him to touch? You think it’s more likely your appeal increased when he lost control over you, but his words are distracting, too much to comprehend in the limited time you have before he’s kissing you again. This time, you soften in his hold. You kiss him back. 
Your hands slide up his chest to the back of his neck. His mouth moves to your cheek, your jawline, your neck. He bites down on sensitive flesh. His touch trails down your spine, over the swell of your bottom to your thighs, and he lifts you up. 
It’s a few steps to the foreign bed. On your back, you yank up the skirt of your dress as he rips his shirt off and undoes the fasteners of his pants. He pulls them down just enough to free himself. His arms curl under your knees. He jerks your body to the end of the bed. One hand goes to your waist. The other pumps his member twice before he guides himself inside of you. 
It’s not like Paul. Not even close. Thicker. Longer. You watch Feyd where you didn’t watch Paul. Through your own pleasure, you examine his. The pinch of his brow. The parting of his lips. The breath that leaves them—it’s heavy and yet soft. The way he stares at you. Always staring. 
You love him. 
“You will be the only one,” he says. He leans down to connect your lips. “The only one.”
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