#but can still scratching at how it all translates
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The Hunt
Youâre running through the woods, doing your absolute best to escape from the creature hunting you. Unfortunately, youâre outmatched and the huntress has no intention of letting her prize get away.
Content Warning: female reader, primal play, alien smut, alien anatomy and rough sex.
Your heart is drumming in your chest. You know she is out there. The occasional click and growl. The rustling of branches. You canât see her, not that sprinting through the woods as fast as your legs can carry you remotely helps with that, but that primal part of your lizard brain knows you're still being pursued.
You duck behind a tree, gasping for air as you try to compose yourself. Youâre making so much noise, but your chest is spasming so much you couldnât slow your breathing if you tried.
You canât hear her footsteps, sheâs too skilled for that. Peering around the tree you manage to make out the faint shimmer. Thank the heavens for the rain or you wouldnât have a hope in hell of spotting her through her active camouflage.
Her form stops moving and you know youâve been spotted. An amused thrill emerges from the massive shape before she rushes you. How something so big can move so fast you have no idea.
You scramble to your feet, slipping in the mud. Your clothes have been long since ruined but you have far bigger problems.
The tree behind you explodes, large invisible blades splintering the trunk. You would scream, but you still havenât caught your breath.
Thereâs no point in turning to look behind you. If you could even see her you would just realize how utterly fucked you were.
Your only option is to keep going. At some point going down the hill becomes sliding, then tumbling. Banging against a rock and scratching yourself on a branch as you claw your way up the other side of the ditch.
All is silent. At least you canât make out anything over your heavy breathing. Youâre alone now, or at least you have a moment of respite. Thereâs no way she isnât still watching you. Sheâs an expert hunter, a predator, your odds of escaping are virtually none. But you have to try.
A growl emerges from the woods around you. You spin on shaky legs, struggling to pinpoint the origin. Youâre so slippery caked in mud, you can barely stay on your feet. Sure it helps to hide your heat signature but your exertion increases your body temperature far too much for it to be of any use.
Your own attempts to flee only make your position more obvious. A branch snaps above you, sheâs in the trees. Itâs enough to give away her position though.
You turn and run.
Itâs easy enough to realize your mistake before you even can process why. The thing flies directly at you, your own panicked brain sending you right where she wanted you.
One moment you're turning, the next your legs are being pulled out from under you, the bola tying you up as you roll down the slope through the mud.
By the time the pain subsides and you manage to start to untangle yourself you hear her thump to the ground. Footprints appear in the mud as the invisible figure stalks towards you. The rain is blocked by the trees here but the occasional droplet makes her form spark into existence.
Crawling is futile, youâll never get away without the use of your legs. But sheâs towering over you before that could ever be an option. Her hulking figure appears. Her silver featureless mask, her writhing tendrils of hair, her toned and muscular body.
She reaches down and grabs you up by your jacket. Her other hand reaches up to unclasp her mask, her mandibles flare as she lets out a roar of triumph.
Youâve lost.
Tossing her mask to the side she picks you up with both arms, pinning you to the tree effortlessly. Her claws tear off your cheap clothing already long ruined by blood. You're covered in bumps and scratches, tomorrow youâre going to be extremely sore.
Sheâs saying something, without your translator you're at a disadvantage but youâve spent enough time in her company to recognize the clicking gruff gloating of victory.
No reason to make it easy. Unfortunately, she knows you too well, your brief attempt at struggling doesnât remotely budge her. When she slips her claws between your legs in response you canât help but tense.
She laughs then, unbuckling her belt and tugging off the rest of her armour. With one arm less to keep you in place you can wiggle, not that it gets you very far, the tree bark digging into your back.
She clicks at you in warning before tugging you against her broad chest. The tentacles between her legs are already grasping at you, sucking to your thighs and trying to wiggle between your legs.
You kick at her, petulant more than anything. A large hand wraps around your throat, gently restricting airflow as she lets out a pleased growl.
Sheâs always liked this. Sheâs a hunter after all, what fun is it if the prey surrenders?
Whispering something in your ear you feel her forked tongue trail down your neck. She holds you with one arm and spreads your legs with the other.
Youâre utterly soaked, as to be expected, but she would still be teasing you about it if she wasn't busy slipping her tentacles inside you. They sucker your bodies together and hold you in place as much as they can.
You know how sensitive they are, just like her hair tendrils. Unfortunately with your hands pinned youâre at her mercy and can hardly tease her.
You groan as they fill you up, wiggling deeper.
She lets out a purr, licking at your neck as she fucks you, her clit rubbing against yours.
The breath you had only started to recover is forced from your lungs. When her grip starts to falter she presses you against the tree, manhandling you so she can fuck you properly.
As whine leaves you as you clench around her, her tentacles never leave you though, only burrowing and wiggling even deeper, attaching you wide.
That would be enough to make you cum, but her heat sliding against you is just too much. Youâve never been particularly vocal, but she always manages to fuck you hard enough that you lose control of yourself.
Your fingers dig into her leathery skin, your cunt fluttering as your orgasm approaches. You canât take it, too much to be pleasurable, too rough not to be painful. Sheâs using your body, claiming her reward.
But youâre cumming regardless, your muscles spasming, if she wasnât pinning you against the tree you would have lost your grip. Your head falls back against the bark, your eyes tightly shut as you clench your teeth. Your vision has gone white, cumming so you canât feel anything else, but sheâs not done yet.
Your muscles canât keep up anymore, too exhausted to not just clench down. Your gushing, drenching her tentacles and cunt as she keeps fucking you. Youâve lost any control of yourself, you canât even breathe.
She howls, her crest slamming into the tree inches away from you as her mandibles nip at your shoulder. She cums, her weight crashing into you and nearly smothering you as she tenses. Her own wetness mixed with yours.
Sheâs got no eggs to fill you with at this time of year, not that you were a male that could fertilize them but that only makes it more fun. But quite honestly considering youâve been cumming for a solid minute you think that might break you.
When she finally releases you she takes you into her arms rather than letting you slump to the middle ground. Cheap clothes are one thing, youâre far too precious.
âFuck,â is all you can croak, your pussy still thrumming with overstimulation even as her tentacles gently and lovingly ease themselves out of you.
She presses a kiss to your forehead, her fangs ticking your foreheads.Â
âF-hmm,â you groan.
She laughs weakly and gathers her things.
Your vision is still spinning as she carries you back to her ship. Sheâs going to spend the next week panicked about every scratch and bruise she gave you but it would be so worth it for this.
Weakly you promise yourself that next time youâll manage to escape. Even if you know that definitely wonât be the case.
#monster fucker#monster fudger#monster x human#eldritch tales#alien anatomy#predator#yautja#yautja x human#alien smut#lesbian#wlw#sapphic#monster x you#yautja x you#primal play#hunting kink#exophelia#fem reader#smut#predator franchise
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One thing I adore about PB is Tommy's approach towards modernity. Straddling the non-industrial past and the industrial/modern present; constantly positioning himself on the cutting edge, if not quite bleeding edge, of period/era technology. Cars, manufacturing, shipping, phones, typewriters. Medicine, psychology, and even bringing in incredibly modern concepts into politics in that era. He is constantly grabbing at the future. It's this striking characteristic in him, all the way from S1 when they install the phone in the Garrison - ~if only we knew someone else with a phone, we could call them~ - through to S6's final episode when he even wangles a seat on an airplane to get to Canada without wasting time. So uncommon at the time, but he just went: I need to get there with least time lost, and matched requirement to a borderline experimental non-consumer-available insider technology to do so.
(Sidestep: Such an interesting juxtaposition of all that, with the constant representation of the pre-industrial-era Romani threads in S6, too: Esme, the hills, the horse, the curse, the mythology, the vardo, all that slamming up against an actual cutting edge submachinegun, so âcontemporaryâ itâs actually anachronistic by a few years (if my research was right, itâs a WWII weapon that submachinegun, not to get on the symbolism, but). Arguably, Ruby in hospital having the most contemporary medical treatment available while Tommy goes walkabout to lift a curse is another notable juxtaposition.
Thereâs also an interesting slant of his modernity balanced against what I call his hoarding habit â the most cutting edge piece of tech or modernity in 1923 heâs still hanging onto in 1933. But yeah, even with that the juxtapositions are interesting because they can only happen if the forward reaching/modernity focus is there)
So, when I see contemporary-modern!AU takes of Tommy that are like, representing him as a relatively humdrum part of the capitalist consumer status quo, or even as a luddite who can't and won't use an Iphone, I scratch my head. I do think heâs *not* much of an innovator, but he is absolutely a considered first-gen adopter and recognises (and takes) opportunity regarding tech innovation with little concern for risk.
I have contemplated would rich modern!AU Tommy with disposable income finance startups if they pitched well: probably yes, because he takes gambles; with a personally vested interest in the innovators in the same way he had that vested interest in Bonnie. Startups as horses or boxers on a diff playing field, win some, lose some, etc.
#Thereâs also how modern Tommy is probably a weapons trafficker of some sort too#but can still scratching at how it all translates#Only bothers w illegal drugs because breaking into the international pharmacology cartel is too hard#The thing that really changes in contemporary era is the ease of global reach. Tommy was an innovator in the 20/30s because he looked globa#As soon as he could#from his class-bound ethnically diverse neighbourhood. Internationality was always there but it was a difference#Compared to now global reach is more the norm not the innovation#Anyway modern AU Tommy is interesting because representing that âfuture reachâ he shows in the 1920s rarely seems to be exploredâŠ#Another part of this thinking is me wondering *why* I keep seeing in-my-head-contemporary!Tommy in Japan on business trips#think itâs something to do with the same interesting juxtaposition of the pre industrial traditionality with bleeding-edge in Japan
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don't want to kill time like it doesn't matter - 3.5k words, (platonic) funkobra hurt/comfort
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Ghoul is actually younger than Kobra. They always forget it though.
At least, they usually do.
Kobra's stopped shooting upright and reaching for his blaster whenever someone wakes him up at night. Stopped two years ago, honestly, when him and Ghoul started sharing a room. That was a collective decision that is very much not discussed. It left the old office as a perfect room for the Girl, in the end. Between Ghoulie and Girlie, the former of whom has wild, sleepless tendencies and the latter liking to scramble her way into bed with somebody else every other night of the week, Kobra's knee-jerk reaction has become more of a lack of reaction.
"Yo," hisses a pitchy voice. It's dead daylight, the heat of the day. This is the time of the year when you sleep while the sun's up, wait until the darkness falls to do anything or else it's too miserable or too dangerous. "Kobes."
Kobra utters a verbose "Hrrmngg?" and rolls over. He cracks an eye open to see Ghoul standing at the end of his bed. If it hadn't been light out, he'd be doing a good job of living up to his name. His hands are shaking, but when aren't they?
"You good, man?" Kobra asks groggily. He's half awake, half asleep, drifting in between the two states of being. Ghoul is shifting his weight back and forth on his feet. It makes the floor creak. It makes him look even smaller than he is. "Ghoulie?" He mumbles again when he gets no reply.
Ghoul makes a noncommittal half-whispered sound. "Wanna go for a joyride?" He asks instead of an answer.
Kobra blinks himself more fully awake and pushes up on one elbow. "Mirage or the 'Am?"
Ghoulie shrugs. Won't meet his eyes. Oh shit, that's not good. Something's got him worked up. It's too late for this. This is why they share a room now. They didn't used to, but Kobra refuses to let him sleep alone anymore. Kobra knows how he got that wicked scar that runs from the corner of his mouth nearly to his eye.
"Either," Ghoul says. "Doesn't matter much to me."
"Mirage," Kobra decides. He'll never say no to a late-night joyride. Not this kind. Party'll have his neck for sneaking out on the bike without letting anyone know, but the 'Am is too conspicuous when strange crews are out and from the look of him, riding double on the motorcycle will be good for Ghoul.
It's still too hot to be out. But going for a spin won't take too much exertion, getting to someplace with shade, so long as it's away from here, won't take too long. Ghoul's gonna get sunscorched. Maybe that's the point. While Kobra covers up with his jacket, Ghoul is still in the loose, half-covering clothes he sleeps in.
The sun glints painfully off the sand when they climb quietly out the window. No reason trying to get past Party when they've got an exit right here. Ghoul clambers out first with a probably accidental but surprisingly graceful roll and then flinches, violently, when Kobra jacket catches on what's left of the glass in the window and he tumbles haphazardly to the ground. They both hold still for a long dozen seconds, Kobra staring at the diner wall and straining to tell if anyone heard them, and Ghoul staring at Kobra and shaking.
When Party doesn't come along, eyes glinting with annoyed amusement, and yell at them for sneaking out, Kobra sits up and checks the hem of his jacket where it caught on the sharp edge. "Great," he mutters when he sees the tear in the lining. He'll have to sew that back together later. "Ghoul, you good?"
Ghoul shrugs and stands up. "Aren't I always?"
"No."
They stare at each other for a few seconds while Kobra rubs his palms together to clear the sand off them and reaches into his pocket for his gloves. "You're wearing a helmet," he says flatly.
Ghoul rolls his eyes and sneers. It crinkles the scar running up his face. "No way."
"Fine." Kobra doesn't push. Half the time he doesn't even wear his helmet. He's the driver. He'll keep them safe. It was worth a try, though. "Come on."
The heavy bay door of the garage makes too much noise to open without being caught. They slip in the side door and Kobra brings Mirage carefully back through it. He wears a helmet this time. Ghoul stands and waits, bouncing impatiently on the balls of his feet, while Kobra starts the bike and, out of habit, does a couple checks.
"You ready?" Kobra says, with the visor of his helmet flipped up.
Ghoul grins, but it's lacking in heart. So often, Kobra thinks he's not all there. So often, Kobra thinks this is his best friend. "Born that way," he replies.
"Come on then," Kobra says and nods for Ghoul to get on the bike with him. "Hey, hey. Hey, Ghoulie-" he says, when Ghoul is standing right at his shoulder, about to throw a leg over Mirage and climb on. "You okay?" He asks again, because he needs to know how safe any of this is.
Ghoul doesn't respond. Just settles himself behind Kobra and wraps his arms, tight, around Kobra's middle. Kobra stays there a second, until he's sure Ghoul's grip is solid, so that he can feel Ghoul breathing against his back, before he kicks off. He doesn't care if Party and Jet wake up now, they won't catch them. The bike's tires kick up a fountain of sand as he spins a loop, leaning into the turn until Mirage tilts close enough to the ground that Kobra could touch the sand if he reached out. Ghoul asked for a joyride. This is that.
"What the hell, man?!" Ghoul yells over Kobra's shoulder, muffled by the engine noise and his helmet. Kobra feels Ghoul's hands grab at the fabric of his shirt as he pulls around the first turn, bringing them around the back of a sand dune at full speed.
"Trust me?" Kobra shouts back. He's getting into it now, relaxing into each wide, showy swerve and fishtail. He slows down just a bit when he can feel Ghoul's fingernails start to bite into his skin. It makes him edgy when Ghoul is like this.
Ghoul sniffs sharply. "Well, yeah, but I've seen you crash out enough times at the track-"
"Aw, shut up," Kobra snaps back, without venom. Ghoul's his mechanic. He's seen his best wins and worst losses. "Where you wanna go?" He asks, after a few random turns, just drifting around in the sand. Ghoul is quiet. Kobra reaches back with one hand and smacks him on the leg after awhile. "Ghoulie, where we goin'?"
"I'm thinki-" Ghoul cuts himself off and when he speaks again his voice is flat and so quiet Kobra has to strain to hear him. "Turn right up here."
There's the remains of a road cutting across their path and Kobra hops Mirage up onto it, swings right and follows the pavement. Ghoul's grip around his chest has loosened, but Kobra can feel the fast, shallow rhythm of his breathing and the shaking of his hands even still. The road goes on for ages, long enough that it starts to feel infinite. This must have been a highway, back before the wars and BL/ind. At some point, Ghoul leans forward and puts his forehead against the back of Kobra's neck. Kobra can feel him pressed just below where his helmet sits.
"Get off at this turn," Ghoul mumbles suddenly, but not soon enough because Kobra completely overshoots the exit. He flips around the empty lanes of the highway, admittedly showing off mostly just to make himself feel better.
The group of buildings along the former highway off-ramp isn't really a ghost town. It's a cluster of old stores and restaurants, like the diner but mass produced, and down at the end is an ancient truck stop and gas station. Kobra slows the bike to a crawl as they drive down the street, struck with an eerie sense of deja vu. He's been here before. They both have.
He pulls over and stops in the middle of the road, beside what used to be a coffee store. Coffee is usually made in the form of compressed, dried out shots now, called Motor Juice in the Zones when rehydrated. They don't have coffeeshops in the City. They have prescriptions.
Ghoul is off the bike and Kobra's back suddenly cold even under the heat of the sun before Mirage even comes to a full stop. "Ghoul-" Kobra snaps, angry for reasons he can't even say and unsettled in ways he doesn't want to. This is a ghost town. Just not in the normal way. "Ghoul. What are you-"
But Ghoul is walking away, his back to Kobra and the bike as he moves toward the gas station as if it's a magnet and he's the blade of a knife, trembling so hard with the pull that it might break. Kobra hesitates, then swings his leg over Mirage and bumps out the kickstand. Ghoul is standing stock still, or as still as he can, on the faded pavement of the gas station parking lot. Kobra's glad it's faded. He doesn't want to see the bloodstains.
Ghoul looks small as he approaches, absolutely miniscule. He's got his arms wrapped tight around himself and Kobra can hear the harshness of his breathing even from several strides away. He doesn't want to get too close too fast. Ghoul's enough like a wild animal that it could turn out badly, and Kobra for once really doesn't want to fight him today. Not out here, at least.
They're within two years of each other, Kobra and Ghoul. They usually forget they're not the same age. But right now Ghoul looks so small and so, so young and Kobra doesn't know what to do.
"Gh- Ghoul. Ghoulie." Kobra calls carefully, stumbling over his tongue. He clamps his teeth together, takes a deep breath. "Ghoul."
Ghoul doesn't turn, doesn't look away from the door into the gas station he'd been found in, back when Kobra and Poison and Jet were a crew of three and Ghoul'd been even more feral than he is now. The gas station where Ghoul watched his entire family die and he was helpless to do anything about it. He still thinks he hadn't done enough. Kobra knows that. Ghoul always thinks he didn't do enough. That one kid with a blaster and wild eyes could take down a full squad of Dracs and two Crows.
Kobra doesn't know how to tell him that if he'd tried, he would be dead too. Kobra doesn't know how to tell him he's glad he didn't. When it comes down to it most, Kobra finds he can't speak.
"Ghoulie," he says again. "Hey. Hey." He moves closer, pulls off the helmet he'd almost forgotten he still has on. "Ghoul," he tries, one more time, as gently as he knows how even though it's not that gentle. He's never been good at this. Some of the scars scattered across Ghoul's body are from him. But Kobra had stitched up Ghoul's face and he's not going to give up now.
Ghoul finally turns and Kobra breathes a sigh of relief. Just a response. Proof of life even though he's still standing. And then Ghoul steps toward him and suddenly he's right there, shaking but otherwise just as eerily still as this entire place, like he's trapped in frozen time just like the rest of it, and he collides with Kobra's chest in a way that's both surprising and yet entirely expected.
"Oh." Kobra drops his helmet, dangling from one hand, and his arms hover uncertainly in the air for a moment before he carefully closes them around Ghoul. "Oh. Okay. Okay." He says quietly, startled, but not really. He'd felt the way Ghoul was holding onto him as they rode Mirage all the way out here.
Ghoul unfolds his arms from around himself and grabs onto the unzipped sides of Kobra's jacket. He doesn't cry, not out loud at least. He's just shaking, so much, and so, so small. Kobra's not good with words. He's even worse with them under pressure. Anything Jet or Party could say to make it better, that kind of stuff gets stuck on his tongue when Kobra tries to say it. So he doesn't. He just holds on.
"You plan on coming here?" Kobra asks eventually, even though he has a feeling the answer is no. Unless it's an engine or a bomb, Ghoul never really plans on much. Ghoul shakes his head, hair scrubbing against Kobra's shoulder and neck where his head's pressed. "You wanna... y'wanna go inside?" He asks then, against his better judgment. But then again, he's never been known for that, has he.
Ghoul tenses, but it momentarily stops the shaking. "Can we?"
Kobra huffs. "Nobody stoppin' us, and even if there were, we'd do it anyway, wouldn't we?"
Ghoul pries his fingers from their hold on Kobra's jacket and turns back toward the station. "Should we?"
"Dunno." Part of him thinks it might help. Part of him remembers exactly what happened the last time they were here. It's the Killjoy way to call death ghosting. It means some part of you lives on even when you're gone. There's a lot of ghosts in this pavement. "It's your-"
He can't think of what word goes there. Choice. Past. Grief. Place. So he stops talking. He shrugs, bends to pick up his helmet. "I can." He sucks a breath through his teeth. He's going to say it again. "I can... I can go with you. If you," he shrugs one shoulder again. "If you, uh, want to. I'm not- I'm not trying to force you," he adds, like it needs to be said. "It's your... yours."
Because that's all that really can be said. This place, the place that made Fun Ghoul what he is. The journey, however brief, that brought them here. Even, kinda, Kobra himself. It's all for Ghoul, here and now. Kobra drove, but he's just along for the ride. Weird how that happens.
Ghoul steps toward the station. Magnetism, again. And Kobra follows, because how could he not. He feels sick at the though of letting his friend go in that place alone.
The doors are gone. Shot out years ago. It looks to Kobra exactly as it did back then, but Ghoul probably remembers better. There are shelves toppled and glass and plastic broken all over the floor. Whatever hasn't been scavenged is broken and shattered. Ghoul walks toward the back of the store, the corner that's not so much a mess. Kobra stays back a bit, trying to give his friend space.
It's where they found Ghoul. Or, where Pois had found him. Ghoul was half in shock, terrified and scarred and fighting, and Party was the first one of their then three-strong group to notice the dark shape watching them hopelessly trawl the carnage for any survivors. It took Pois physically restraining the much smaller kid to keep Ghoul from going for all of their throats.
Kobra has a lot of bad memories of Ghoul. None are as bad as remembering the way he'd screamed when they first met.
"Y'okay?" Kobra asks after a while.
Ghoul has his moments. They all do. Sometimes, you wake up bad in the night and it's hard to pick yourself up. Sometimes you just gotta hit the bottom before you even can. But Ghoul's a fighter. "Yeah," he says, walking back and forth between fallen shelves once stocked with food and stupid trinkets. He crouches to pick up the shattered remnants of something once made of colorful glass and when he looks back over his shoulder at Kobra, he doesn't seem quite as small.
"'M sorry," Kobra mumbles, not knowing what to say now. Somehow, the shaking and the touch are so much easier than having to talk about it. He's never been the talker. That's Party. And he knows his brother regrets not getting there â here â sooner that day, but there's a sick, selfish part of Kobra that's too glad to have Ghoul to want anything different. But really, it's all he can say. If there's remnants of bones that haven't been carried away by carrion-eaters, he doesn't want to see it.
Ghoul slowly stands up from his spot on the floor, staring intently at the broken knick-knack in his palm. It might have been a glass teddy bear, once, something a parent might grab up for a child waiting at home. It's partially shattered, though. Half of its cartoonish smiling face is gone. The heart shape it once held in its paws is cracked down the middle. Kobra isn't great with metaphors, but this is pretty fucking obvious.
"I didn't save them," Ghoul says quietly, his voice grating through the charged, silent air. "I didn't save her."
Something clicks into place. They all know that the crew he lost was Ghoul's real actual biological family. He's a sandpup. He was born and raised in the Zones. He doesn't talk about it much. Kobra's shocked he even came back here, let alone with anyone else. Ghoul doesn't talk about his family, but they've all figured for a while that he had a sibling. You can see it in how he treats the Girl.
"Your sister," Kobra says. It doesn't sound like so much of a question when he says it out loud, but he knows Ghoul will understand it as one.
Ghoul nods. "Yeah." He steps over some toppled displays, sun-bleached ads that used to be bright colored, and slips the shiny piece of broken glass into one of Kobra's pockets since he doesn't have any of his own. Kobra can already see the sunburn forming on his friend's shoulders and the tops of his knees. "She was like, eight."
That's all the more he says about it, but Kobra slips his hand into the pocket and runs his fingers over the broken glass toy still warm from Ghoul's hands, and hears the years of grief and bitterness in the few words. Ghoul's more talky than he is, but he's cagey, too. Kobra can hear him, though. He gets it. Doesn't mean he knows what to say, though.
"Shit," he spits. He wants to say I'm sorry again, but that feels fuckin cheap. He wants to say stop beating yourself up about it, but that sounds even stupider. "Fuck." Sometimes that's all he can say.
"Yeah," Ghoul replies. "Fuckin shit."
"Exactly," Kobra agrees, fiercely relieved that Ghoul gets all the shit he's trying to say. "Hey, uh. Y'know I'm-" He stumbles over the words, cringes at himself for the inability to get past a stupid two-letter word. "I'm glad I know you." He manages, as selfish as it sounds standing here in the ghosted wreckage where Ghoul's family was killed. But if that hadn't happened, they wouldn't be here now. They wouldn't be friends. And Kobra needs Ghoul to know he's glad that any suicide run to save his family failed. The pain sucks, but he's grateful for the outcome. He hopes Ghoul can understand that.
Ghoul doesn't reply. His acid green eyes bore straight into Kobra's for a few seconds while Kobra's heart hammers in his chest. Then he kicks at some dust and looks at the floor and shrugs. "Let's go, man. I don't wanna stay here."
"M'kay."
Kobra's almost tempted to reach out as they walk back out into the glaring sun, grab onto Ghoul like he's a ghost, too, and the light might evaporate him. But he doesn't. He can't.
He thinks the feeling of Ghoul hanging onto him as he steers Mirage away, back up the ramp to the road they came down in the first place, will make him feel better. It doesn't. Ghoul holds on much looser than he had on the way here, and it makes Kobra nervous. He wonders if he should have made him wear a helmet, and steers more carefully around the turns.
And then Ghoul adjusts his seat and throws one arm up over Kobra's shoulder, loosely hooking around his neck. He leans up forward and shouts, "C'mon, Kobes, let's play with it!" Like he's itching for the risk that a couple hours ago had had him holding on for dear life. Kobra's used to thinking his best friend isn't all there. But he's also familiar with the times he is. Sometimes, he forgets they're not the same age because Ghoul is so larger than life.
He tips his head to the side in acknowledgement, and punches the throttle. He even pulls a couple of tight, quick loops. He can't slide on the pavement the way he would on sand, but he can catch a little air when there's a thermal bump in the highway. Ghoul clutches onto him, but it's not scared. Something's cleared up in the gas station. Maybe it was closure. Hell if Kobra knows.
When they pull Mirage off the highway and the diner finally comes back into view, just a small glint of signage, Kobra slows his pace and can feel Ghoul sigh more than he can hear it. His friend's arms stay firmly around him. "Hey, Kobes?" Ghoul says, just barely loud enough to be heard over the engine.
"Yeah?" Kobra says, a bit louder to be heard past his helmet.
Ghoul hesitates, then says in a rush, "I'm glad I know you too. Like, really glad." And then he squeezes Kobra a little tighter for just a second and Kobra can't even say anything in reply. It's been a long night at the wrong time of day. And they're almost home.
#yes I know kobra is doing that annoying ''r u ok'' thing very repetitively he's like me he repeats himself A LOT it's ok. we still love him#I cannot express this enough. kobra has a stutter. literally sometimes the only word that will come out is just. F bomb.#the others have gotten very good at translating him skskskddkfj#btw wrt kobra's speech patterns just know I'm cutting WAY back on the amount of repeating I do irl#like I'm giving him my (mild) stutter but cutting down the repetitions by a lot bc it looks weird on paper#so whenever he's repeating himself and stammering? yeah it's a lot more like a scratched CD than how I typed it out#in my head it's like SUPER noticeable. like everyone knows this happens and that sometimes he has to stop and be quiet#and take a minute before he can get on with what he's saying. it's just a thing#ok now that I'm done rambling about kobra kid having a stutter- :)#btw they're like 16 and 17 here. they are children trying to navigate these very big emotions and I love them so so dearly#next time I need to emotionally or physically hurt kobra skfjfnskdn I keep going after poor ghoul#ok I think that's all I have to say for now#she speaks!#she writes!#danger days#the true lives of the fabulous killjoys#danger days: the true lives of the fabulous killjoys#ttlotfk#kobra kid#fun ghoul#this isn't really funkobra just bc I don't actually ship ANYONE here skskfjdghkdjgfkd#I'm much more compelled by platonic relationships that are kinda the Secret Third Thing than I am by romance. so. yeah
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Another batch or Mr. Puzzles quick sketches. I kept forgetting to draw his side pocket in the last couple ones. Random character featured in the little comic-ish Live Interview is some version of doodlesona. Canât guarantee the dialogue will be believable/sound in character for Puzzles because honestly Iâm still working on understanding his talking style and when he sarcastically jokes around or when he chooses to be serious and drop performance act. But in the off chance you wanna read it goes from left to right with reading
#GUYS itâs so hard drawing a character who uses his hands to communicate 24/7 jksjsksp PLEASE#my brain doesnât know what pose to put him at any given time because he keeps SWITCHING inbetween words#heâs so animated and thatâs why I love him so much expression and emotion in display#but I donât like drawing hands at any given time if I can avoid it so screw him jskjso#the last two pages I think Iâve started to get a hang of how his expressions operate#still need to see if I can pull off the full range in my own style tho#and yes I inserted my silly doodle sona in the interview segment hello wazzup lol#although itâs very much a caricature because in reality I have no issues being on film. Been doing that since I was a toddler itâs natural#was even in a production class in high school operating camera equipment like I honestly love it#speaking of that artâŠstill trying my best to figure out how his dialogue is meant to sound?#like Iâve always struggled with writing character dialogue Iâm unfamiliar with the style of#thing is Iâm good at acting the part if you give me a script to follow and example of tone inflections#but writing it from scratch is a whole nother struggle#so Iâm sorry if it doesnât feel on point Iâll try to get better at analyzing his speech patterns#honestly think I made it too formal sounding here? Or jumbled in some parts because I was stumped on how heâd translate thoughts to words#still fun interaction tho!#like I think heâd try his best to drop a few moments of empathy and try to get someone with anxiety to feel comfortable#but heâs also got the ratings to worry about and canât afford it being ruined by someoneâs anxiety hiccup#so kinda treading the line of being compassionate and giving advice to calm them v.s impatience to get the show rolling#or something idk still trying to analyze him and how he reacts to given circumstances#can you tell I think way too deeply about all this trivial stuff?#doodles#sketches
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ghhh... got lost under mexican cooking tutorials...
#they look so yummy....#i've never cooked mexican food so im not very familiar with how it works#like when i cook from scratch it's often japanese food (and sometimes chinese) so im familiar with those condiments/seasonings#and techniques and such#so you could leave me without a recipe and i'd be able to make something decent#i mean im not like super SUPER familiar with it but that's because i dont cook often enough for that. but as far as cooking familiarity goe#japanese is what i'm most familiar with#cannot say the same about mexican#i want to try out some mexican recipes#and also do some more of the chinese ones#also like middle eastern cooking.#also i'd like to figure out how to cook vietnamese food that doesn't just taste like fish sauce#i'll use like a QUARTER of the fish sauce a recipe says. and i can still. only. taste. fish sauce.#and everything smells like it too.#idk how vietnamese places manage to not get that to happen#unityrain.txt#tw food#also. i am very into finding authentic/traditional recipes for things. which is not at all how my mom would do it lol#if i wanted a recipe for dumplings i would either take my time to find chinese cooking blogs and read the âaboutâ section#or find cooking tiktoks/videos where the grandma is helping and cannot speak any english so the granddaughter translates#and then compare like recipes from multiple places#but my mom would just. go to the first mommy blog that comes up where the suburban mom of three running it's entire asian seasoning#consists of soy sauce garlic ginger power and a fuck ton of cornstarch#needless to say. ââethnicââ dishes my mom would find did NOT taste great.
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Where Have you Been?
This is inspired by this post.
Billy was having a rough day. Scratch that. A rough couple of months. Recently, heâs been⊠losing himself? He doesnât know how to put it into words. Itâs just that more heâs Marvel, the more he forgets about being Billy. In all honesty, itâs scaring him. Whatâs even worse is that, no matter what others think, he isnât in control anymore, and Billy knows it. One moment, heâll just be Billy Batson and then the next heâll be Marvel with no recollection of even saying the word. Billy truly wished he hadnât noticed the gaps in his memory getting bigger.
Speaking of memory gaps, Billy had a pretty big one to fill considering all he did was go to bed, and was then greeted with the misfortune of waking up on a random beach with the lower half of his body slightly wet from the tide. All he knows is that heâs not near Fawcett, let alone Iowa, because last he checked, it was a landlocked state. So, he got up, and decided to go find out where he was.
Billy: *wandering around while shaking any sand off himself, eventually spotting a flag* âOh! Iâm in⊠I still have no idea.â
Glasses Lady: *approaches him* âPor que vocĂȘ nĂŁo estĂĄ na escola?â (Translation: Why arenât you in school?)
Billy: *frog blinks* âHuh?â
Billy was⊠pretty sure that was Spanish. So heâs probably still on earth. Maybe. After a little bit of back-and-forth, the Glasses Lady finally realized he couldnât understand what Billy was only half sure was Spanish. In the end, she just started taking him around to find somebody who could speak English.
Glasses Lady: âÂżVocĂȘ fala inglĂȘs? Acho que este Ă© o filho de um turista.â (Translation: Do you speak English? I think this is a tourist's son.)
Old Granny: âNĂŁo. Pobre garoto.â *leans down to pinch his cheek* (Translation: âNo. Poor boy.)
Billy: *confused as to why this random old lady is pinching his cheek*
Eventually, after a while, they did find somebody who could speak English.
Billy: âDo you know where I am, miss?â
College Student: âYouâre in Brazil.â
Billy: âBrazil??â *sounds super concerned* âIsnât that in South America? I think?â
College Student: âIt is. How did you even get here? Are you on vacation?â
Billy: âNo? I just woke up here.â *wondering how heâs gonna explain this to Rosa*
College Student: âWhat?â *also now concerned because she thinks this child mightâve been a victim of trafficking*
Billy: âUhm⊠you have like a map that you can show me?â
College Student: âI donât think a map will help you, bud.â
Billy: *shrugs* âTheres always the chance it could, miss.â
College Student: âI guess?â *pulls up google maps*
Billy: *zooms out so he can just see the countries* âOh okay. So not that far away.â
College Student: âYouâre plenty far away what are you talking about? Also, whyâre you sandy?â *wipes off some sand her phone*
Billy: *ignores both questions* âDo you know which way is north?â
College Student: âUh⊠it should be that way.â *points in the direction*
Billy: âOh thank you!â * is about to runoff, but looks back at the Glasses Lady* âAnd gracias?â *looks to the College Student* âThat how you say it right?â
College Student: âNo, thatâs Spanish.â *shakes head* âItâs supposed to be obrigado.â (Translation: Thank you.)
Billy: âOh, obrigado!â *definitely butchered the pronunciation and runs off to he north*
College Student: âWait, come back!â
As soon as Billy was out of sight, he shazamed and flew in the direction she pointed in. Now, the boy wouldnât admit this, but he actually flew slower than normal. He didnât wanna think about the future confrontation with Rosa, not to mention his other family members. Was he prolonging the inevitable? Yes. Did he feel guilty? Also, yes. Did that mean he was gonna speed up though? âŠNo.
Billy was just passing over Mexico when his JL comm started going off like crazy.
Marvel: *answers his comm*
Batman: âMarvel. Watchtower. Now.â
Marvel: âHuh? Why did I do something wrong?â
Batman: âYou went AWOL for three weeks, and then the first sign we find that youâre alive is a video of you partying at a Mardi Gras parade in Brazil. I really wonder what you did wrong.â
Billy was straight speechless for a solid minute. Three weeks? Three weeks? The memory gap was way bigger than he thought.
Marvel: *trying to find words* âI- Iâm gonna be honest I have no idea what youâre talking about.â
He honestly felt like crying. Genuine, ugly, crying. Because now he knows itâs gotten to a point where he canât shrug this off anymore. He could do one day. He could do two days. Heâs even gone a week before. But three weeks? Thatâs nearly a month and he doesnât remember anything. Billy was now being forced to acknowledged how big of a problem this was.
By now, he had stopped, still floating in mid air.
Batman: âIs that you confirming you were too intoxicated to reach out to us or-â
Marvel: âMr. Batman Sir, I really canât talk right now.â *can feel himself starting to hyperventilate* âIâll come by later. I promise.â
Batman: âNo, not later. Immediately. We all want a word with you.â
Marvel: *grimaces* âIâm sorry. I just really canât right now. Iâm really sorry.â *hangs up*
Billy just started hyperventilating after that. His chest felt tight, his world felt like it was one the brink of crashing down. He needed to go see the wizard. He needed help. The wizard could definitely help. So, he went to the rock.
Wizard: *sounds solemn* âIâm sorry, Billy.â
That was literally all the old man told him before he started talking about how the gods were starting to exert more of their influence on him. And he basically had no say, say in some of the things he would start to do from now on. Just when Billyâs life couldnât get harder. Please, Gods, give him a break.
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ᥣđ©.á a hound left without a leash
â
ćœĄ synopsis: your love is constant, ever-present and ever-growing. toji finds it endearing. how you're not afraid of being soft around him. but he canât be like that. his love isn't gentle and quiet like yours: it's remorseless, made of sharp fangs soaked in bloodâfive times toji felt loved by you, five times he loved you back.
content warnings: established relationship, fluff & angst & smut, domesticity, movie night, toji is soooo in love it's embarrassing, touch starved meet clingy, he's bad at feelings don't give him space, devotion, beach date, hurt/comfort, his love language is acts of service it's not his fault he only knows how to kill, violence (not towards reader), gaslight if you squint, voyeurism, sex toy, manhandling, lots of spit and bites and scratches, creampie, cockwarming.
bella's note: inspired by the song valentine by laufey. y'all say thank you, @gothsuguru for making like three posts about toji that reminded me of my love for this deadbeat killer.
word count: [4.3K]
(It took Toji by surprise the first time he noticed it.)
Toji tried to focus on the action movieâclearly made with no aspiration beyond gathering as much money as possible. He really did. Before learning the bland protagonistâs name, heavy eyelids and comfy blankets came together with a sickening plan to betray his determination.
There was no movie to pretend to watch by the time Toji woke up. The television was turned off, the living room silent if not by his untamed heartbeat. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, blurs turning into discernible shapes, Toji breathed no more.
Only after seeing it on the television that Toji was able to feel it on his body. Fingertips running through his still-damp hair, thumb pressing softly against his temple. A constant movement, warm and calm. It made him think about waves in an empty shore.
A contained laughter guided his eyes away from the screen. Leaning on your shoulder, Toji saw you. Eyes narrowing at your phone, undoubtedly fighting to stay open, the tip of your tongue between your parted lips. Caressing his hair, you nibbled on your tongue.
For you, it was an old habit you couldnât get rid of. For Toji, it was a telltale of your concentration.
Once he learned there was a way to read you, Toji aimed to collect all your telltales. He has all those little signals memorized to translate your behaviors into something he can fully understand. Into something he can transforming into actions.
Distant gaze means hesitation, which in turn means say something, anything, goddamnit. Trembling lips and fervent rage, scrunched nose and jealousy, discreet smiles and nauseating happiness. Toji could fill libraries with everything there is to know about you.
Staring at the soft muscle, Toji knew what your concentration required from him: silence, just for a while. Toji gave you what you needed, hoping somehow you knew what he meant by itâI love you, I love you, I love you.
Wondering about what you needed him to do for you Toji didnât even notice your nails scratching behind his ears, where you knew heâs sensitive enough to melt into your palm. If he had, maybe Toji wouldâve fallen asleep on your shoulder again and rest properly for once.
Toji canât remember the name of the movie that lulled him to sleep. If he was at your home, if it was late at night, if it was during an unexpected blizzard. Toji can only remember that your eyes werenât on him, and your touch was gentle.
Scrolling endlessly as you kept him awake, Toji thought once more about how soft your skin is when compared to his. It lacked scars. You lack roughness, precision, disgust. All those things Toji once believed being an adult meant: you donât have any of them.
(The first time he noticed your love was gentle and quiet, Toji didnât knew how to react.)
âââ§âââââââ§ââ
(Obviously, Toji never lets you win.)
âJust throw me, Tojiâ, you practically meowed his name. When he completely ignored your presence, you pinched his cheek. Toji took a deep breath. âPlease. Pretty please.â
Your cold hands cupped his cheeks, trying to get Toji to look at you. Pouting, plush bottom lip on display, you stared at him through your lashes. You knew it would take one look at you for him to fold and give in.
He slipped away from your hold, so fast you only noticed he was gone when Toji was already laying down on your beach sarong. That made you giggle. He does that all the time. Moves faster than your eyes can comprehend.
Itâs so alluring you couldnât even force yourself to get mad over Toji mistaking your new sarong for a sheet.
âBrat, Iâve told yaâ, he tilted his head back. Toji rest his arm over his head, in a not-so-subtle way of ensuring he wouldnât accidentally sneak a glance at you. Toji could feel on his bones that you were pouting. âIâm not doing that.â
Maybe because you both went on a whim to a beach on a random tuesday, maybe because this one isnât as popular as you feared, it was truly a peaceful day. No kids running around, no loud music blasting through someone elseâs phone, no drunks yelling just because.
Itâs so close from being a perfect day, now all you need is to hear Toji saying yes, darling, anything for you. Not that you ever heard that before. At least, not worded like that.
With a melodramatic sigh, you walked to where your stuff was. Searching among all the bags tossed around, you found just what would change his mind. As your malignant plan developed inside of your mind, a grin spread across your face.
Sitting on his lap, your soaked thighs clamped around Tojiâs thick waist. Sighing once more, you rolled your hips with the poor excuse of searching for a more comfortable position. Warm fingers pressed down on his hips; nails close enough to ghost over his happy trail.
âBehaveâ, Toji groaned, free hand closing around your hip. He easily held you in place. You smelled like salt and malice. âI wonât change my mind.â
You bent over Toji, soaked bikini pressing down against his toned chest. Scratching his forearm, you brushed your nose against his cheek. âCan I try to convince you?â, you whispered sultry against his ear.
Softening his hold on you, Toji smirked. âYouâre a fucking menace.â
Splash.
Pouring cold water on his face, you took advantage of his surprised state to run away while youâre still able to. Laughing more than you could breathe, you tilted your head back to look at Toji. âNow tell me something I donât know.â
Just like you expected, Toji looked at you.
Just like you always forget, Toji was fast. Really, really fast.
Colliding with his chest, you frowned as your mind processed that Toji was right in front of you. As a pair of arms wrapped around your waist, you knew there was nothing you could do to escape his grip. You tried to anyway.
âThatâs cheatingâ, you yelled. It made him laugh like hell, chest vibrating against your stomach. Lifted up far above the ground, you moved your feet uselessly. âItâs so unfair, you need to let me win sometimes too!â
A slap against your ass shut you up. âAnnoying bratâ, Toji threw you over his shoulders. You tried to squirm away, but decided to settle for just complaining once he bit your thigh. âAs if. You can earn your victory or stop acting like a bored cat for once.â
Giggling, you pressed your elbows down on his shoulder. âToji. My loveâ, your voice imbued in honey and sugar made him face you. Smiling angelically, you pointed at the cliff providing the shade you two enjoyed all day. âThrow me in the water. From up there, please.â
Another sigh. Iâm almost breaking him, you thought. âWhy? Just⊠why?â
âBecause I want to jump so badly but Iâm a cowardâ, you pouted. His eyes fell towards your bottom lip. âSo just throw me. Pleeeeeeeaase. Pretty please.â
âIf you drown, Iâm not saving your ass.â
âDealâ, you kissed his jaw.
Another slap. âSpoiled, annoying brat.â
(Except, obviously, Toji always lets you win.)
âââ§âââââââ§ââ
(If you had asked, Toji wouldâve confessed in a heartbeat.)
Toji took of his shoes and frowned at your heels fallen out of place. Murmuring to himself about how when he does it with his sneakers itâs a crime deserving of death sentence, Toji closed the buckles of your heels and put them inside the shoe rack.
He knew something was off once the silence lingered. Never one to doubt himself, Toji didnât hesitate. He analyzed the floor, searched for different scents, checked the front doorâs handler. Passing through every room with a hand near his hidden gun, Toji didnât breathe until seeing you on your bed.
Although, what Toji saw didnât make him any more relieved.
Itâs late at night and youâre still wearing your responsible-adult clothesâthatâs how you call those you buy solely so your coworkers wonât judge you. Earrings intertwined with your sweaty hair, necklace pressed against your collarbone, belt too tight to be comfortable.
Moonlight showed him your puffy eyelids smeared with mascara. Half-open as you stared at the ceiling, you didnât seem to acknowledge Tojiâs presence. You didnât seem to acknowledge anything at all.
âHi, love.â Toji kneeled down, whispering in order to not startle you. He pressed his chin on your pillow, hands moving your hair away from your face. âAre you here with me?â
Another tear rolled down your face once you blinked. Toji pressed his thumb against your skin, stopping it from falling into your ear. You tried to turn your face away from him, but hesitated once the warmth of his hands made to your heavy mind.
âNeed to sleepâ, you murmured, voice so thin Toji felt his throat shut.
Soaked in sweat, Toji ran his fingers through your hair without bothering you. He scratched your head, draw figures on your scalp, avoided any knots. Your name, his own, any other word he could think of: his fingertips wrote on your head. For what felt like hours, thatâs all he did.
You tilted your head, staring at him. Toji canât remember ever seeing your eyes like that. Dim. He wondered where you lost your light, and made a quiet promise to return it to you. âSorry.â
âDonât.â Toji simply continued to caress your head. âTell me what to do.â
For the first time in hours, you thought about what you needed. With a single phrase, Toji reminded you that you had a body. âCan you get me my towel?â
Toji wouldâve done anything, everything, you asked him to.
With your towel on the mattress, Toji assisted you to sit down. One hand on the small of your back, another cupping your cheek. You melted into his touch, but closed your eyes once he kneeled in front of you. Running away from his careful gaze, you grabbed your towel and forced yourself to walk into the bathroom.
It didnât surprise you that Toji followed you. Or that he took the towel from your hands, unclasped your jewelry, slid your clothes off of you. Neither as the water hitting your body was on the temperature you prefer, as he hugged you tightly under the shower, as he didnât make questions you couldnât quite answer.
Not even your worst day would make you forget how soft your Toji is.
Toji relies on your body to tell him what you need, but once or twice you will say it yourself. Can you get me my towel? You want to be clean again. And knowing what you want, Toji knows what to do.
In no rush, he put your shampoo on his hand and massaged your head. Once your back found a support on his chest, he rinsed your hair while protecting your eyes. After moisturizing, he brushed your hair until he could feel no more knots. Washing the remains of conditioner away from his hands, he moved to the rest of your body.
It didnât feel weird, and that did surprise you. To feel his hands on your naked body without feeling desire or desired. It wasnât uncomfortable. Far from it. As Toji washed you, you just felt less lonely.
âToji?â
He kissed your scalp, massaging your shoulders. He drawn little hearts on your skin. âI am hereâ, Toji hummed.
âItâs nothingâ, you closed your eyes. That was a lie. You meant to say thank you, and Iâm sorry but knew he would get mad if you did so. âJust wanted to hear you.â
âI am right here.â
(He wouldâve confessed to mimic you, because Tojiâs love is anything but gentle and quiet.)
âââ§âââââââ§ââ
(You wouldnât ask him to. You would never.)
Ignoring the sorcererâs terrified eyes, his movements were harsh and cold. It felt just right. To have a combat knife between his fingers again. How natural. As if his hands came from a mold, one made to wield blades and nothing more. That would make sense. For his body to be assembled instead of born.
Gun left aside; chair dragged across the concrete floor. Toji sat in front of the muzzled sorcerer, spreading his legs as he sharpened the blade. Moonlight made it clear. Cold sweat, stunned eyes, shaken limbs. He was a scared, coward animal.
âDonât cry nowâ, Toji cocked an eyebrow. Spreading his legs, he admired the thin edge. Perfect. Dragging out the silence for one more instant, Toji stared at the walking corpse. âNot when you begged for this.â
A clan left behind; hellish decades erased within an insurgent decision. Toji doesnât need to be a Zenin to have enemies. Blood-stained hands collect them just as easily. But after slaughtering enemies enough times, those smart enough to be considered dangerous by others knew better than facing him.
But rumors travel fast and, in his absence, fools gained confidence.
This late on his life, Toji couldnât tell if it was instinct or muscle memory. He simply knew the sorcerer was about to do something stupid. The knifeâs handle hit the man in the temple. As he fought to continue conscious, Toji observed his skin turning purple.
He felt proud. This night left no wound or bruise on his skin. There will be no perplexed gaze, uncertain touch, questions that canât be answered honestly. Once he comes back to his home, you will have no reason to worry.
âYou hurt her.â Toji wondered how long it would take. To get back to you. To return your caring gaze, feel your caring touch, hear your caring questions. âNow Iâll hurt you.â
It begged. It tried to negotiate, numbers rising as Toji continued in silence. If rumors travel fast, so does the truth. Toji turned soft, a rumor that thing discovered to be a lie the moment it decided to bother you. Toji can be bought, a fact that never once included you.
âWhat do you want?!â And the tears came back. They usually do, with loud and unstoppable sobs. Donât matter who they are, in the end they beg just the same. âI can give it to you. Tell me your price.â
âYour right handâ, Toji tilted his head, sliding the edge of the knife against the armchair. âYou touched her with your right hand.â
Toji was merely taunting the sorcerer. He would never use a combat knife to torture someone. That doesnât sound like him at all. Toji will saw both hands with a dull knife.
(But you didnât need to ask him to. Toji would always.)
âââ§âââââââ§ââ
(Toji didnât need to say it.)
It took him long enough to unlock the door to your apartment. The voice of a senator on a news channel welcomed Toji. Heels inside the shoe rack, handbag and headphone forgotten on the couch. Hearing you hum in the shower, Toji turned the TV off.
He could picture it so clearly. You stretching your neck and walking barefoot into the living room, rubbing your eyes just to immediately remember about the mascara. Calling for him. Hearing nothing in response. Choosing something loud on the TV and deciding to take a long shower because itâs friday, I deserve this.
Toji sighed, relief washing over him in waves. Youâre back to being you.
He put the takeout on the table and organized the groceries on the kitchen cabinetâhis excuses for staying out longer than usual. Toji was careful with them. Food from your favorite restaurant, cleaning products you mentioned before. Lies build on solid truths.
He doesnât have an excuse for the scent of antiseptic soap, but once your products made to his nostrils Toji realized he wouldnât need one. Scents way too sweet, enough to confuse slightly his keen senses. There is no way youâre able to smell anything but yourself.
As the bathroom door opened, Toji grabbed a towel on the laundry and locked himself inside it before you could get a hold of him. He doesnât think you would notice, and if you did you wouldnât waste your breath on it, but Toji wonât risk it.
Washing himself once more, Toji tried not to wonder about what would make you despise him more: what he did, or that he doesnât feel any remorse. Would it make it better for you if Toji cried in the shower? If he stared at his clean hands and saw blood on them? Toji could pretend for you. He really would.
Youâre safe and sound, mere steps away from him. Toji showers hearing your loud music. Toji can picture that too. You waiting for him as your sleepy eyes challenge your determinationâyou always fall asleep before he gets to you. You being you. No shaky breathes, no unstoppable tears. He could never feel remorse.
Toji went after you with a towel around his hips. Following the music most likely coming from your phone, he gently opened the bedroom door to not wake you up. Leaning on the door frame, Toji chuckled.
With your eyes closed, you were far from sleeping. Wrinkled sheets falling out of bed, toes curling against the mattress. Damp towel forgotten on the floor. A hand squeezing his pillow, the other hidden between your thighs. Forearms moving in the rhythm you created to yourself; small gasps concealed by a song.
Spit gathered in the corner of your mouth, mesmerizing Toji. How he wished to sink his teeth into your glossy lips. A broken moan and your back arched, his eyebrows furrowing in synchrony with yours. You did it as the waves of pleasure became too much, and Toji as he finally saw what you had between your legs.
From the blunt and bulbous head to its thick length, it was truly no wonder why you were so quiet. All way out, then all way in. Your concentration was on fucking yourself with the dark purple dildo, the rest simply too much for you little brain.
He never saw that one before.
Wrist burning from your incessant movements, your free hand abandoned his pillow to press down on your clit. A simple and precise touch that made you whimper. Feeling shivers down his spine, Toji smirked.
Your eyes fluttered open.
A beat later, they meet his and widened. All way out. Mouth hanging open, you chuckled. It sounded like you were about to lose your sanity. Then all way in. âThere you are.â
Toji crossed his arms, leaving his place at the door to a new one at the end of the bed. âPutting on a show for me?â
âNot on purposeâ, you laughed it off. It felt so dirty. For you to talk normally while doing something so lewd. As if you werenât fully exposedâas if he wasnât too. âI could say the same about you.â
Skin reddish because of the hot water, black hair dripping wet. You followed every drop, burning him with your ravenous gaze. Veins evident on his thick neck. Long fingers pressing down on his forearms, a reminder of how bad you miss his touch. Huge thighs, even when relaxed.
He dropped the towel. âNot on purposeâ, Toji lied.
A knee sunk on the bed, his hands caressing your heels. Toji forced your legs up, tilting his head to kiss the side of your foot. He put one on each shoulder, another knee sinking down on the bed. Grabbing at the fat of your thighs, Toji pulled you closer.
Toji has a way of making you feel weightless.
He bit his tongue, a hand massaging your thigh. Always the cocky asshole, Toji rubbed your overwhelmed clit with his thumb. Staring into his hungry eyes, you grinned.
Holding the firm base of the dildo, Toji pulled it out of you. The sounds your cunt let out, soaked and soft, made him squeeze your thighs. With a pop, there it was, covered in lubricant and your excitement. Your core clamped around nothing.
Toji spat on you, fingers rough against your sore lips as his other hand pumped his cock. You swallowed watching Toji compare with your dildo. You both could see the truth. How your toy was much bigger and ticker.
Salivating, Toji was so proud of you.
Bending over you, forcing your thighs against your chest, Toji admired your sweaty face. He kissed your temple, pressing the dildoâs tip against your lips. âYour collection only growsâ, Toji groaned. âThatâs a new one.â
âNot newâ, you lapped at the protruding head. âIs for when I miss you.â
Toji sank his teeth into your shoulder, hiding his burning cheeks against your skin. Fingers ran through his hair; nails scratched his forearm. âYou saw me this morning.â
His tongue was everywhere, moving too fast for you to keep up. Kissing your shoulder, licking your neck, biting your collarbone. Toji is always too much. How perfect of him. âAre you that needy you canât go hours without me?â
âMiss you all the timeâ, you struggled to breath. Pulling him by the hair, you made Toji face you. Lost on his dark eyes, time seemed to stop. âSay you miss me too.â
âMiss you all the timeâ, Toji obeyed. It wouldnât matter if he didnât. Not when you can see his flushed cheeks. As a reward, you kissed the scar on his mouthâyou wouldâve kissed it anyway. âThink about you all the time.â
You bit his earlobe, nose sliding against his neck as you searched for that sweet spot able to make Toji stutter. Once you did, mouth sucking it without mercy, Toji gave your hips a strong squeeze. His calloused hands would mark you tonight.
Toji humped on your thigh. You could feel precum leaking against your skin. He settled for leaning his forehead against yours. âYou smell way too sweet.â
âI can get new lotionsâ, you offered. âSomething you like better.â
âDonât.â Toji cupped your face, ignoring your clit to rub the length of his cock against your slit. Pushing your head against the pillow, he kissed your forehead. âI like you sweet.â
Toji didnât meant to slip inside you. He wanted to taunt you some more. To fuck you with your dildo and make you scream right into his open lips. Toji wanted you drooling. And once you begged him enough, showing what a polite woman you are, Toji would make you cry with his tongue deep into your walls.
But you were so wet.
âT-Toji!â You gasped, eyes wide as you felt all of him. Pulling his hair, you bit his bottom lip. âCan feel you so deepâŠâ
âI knowâ, Toji grabbed the headboard, thighs shaking. So fucking welcoming. Thumbs stroking your hips, his mind was a mess because of you. âI know.â
Your eyes meet his. A part of Toji wanted to look away. To hide how fragile you make him. How your gaze burns him deeply. The other wanted to never shy away from you. To never know what it feels like to not be watched by you.
No one ever sees him, the one who left it all behind. No one but you.
His body collapsed against yours. His hands pulled your hair, making you tilt your head so he could continue to torture your neck. Thighs forcing yours open, chest pressing down against yours. You could feel the rhythm of his heartbeat. This gigantic man crushing you against the mattress, so heavy it was difficult to breath.
Drunk on his overwhelming intensity, you admired Toji. His hips rolling up, so slow you could feel the trace of every vein on his cock. His length inside you, never giving you a break. His hair dripping on you, a blend of water and sweat.
âRemind me⊠to thank my new friendâ, Toji tilted his head, pointing at the dildo besides your pillow. His raspy voice was more addictive than cocaine. âGot you ready to take me all in.â
Fighting his grasp on your hair, you hugged his shoulders and forced your head up. Sharing an open mouth kiss, your drool fell on your chest. It felt so cold. Or perhaps your skin was too feverish. Toji devoured your every moan, hands tightening around your hips.
âMissed you so muchâ, you whimpered. His forehead leaned on yours, eyes closing as Toji tried to not lose himself. You continued to admire him. âMissed being yours.â
âYouâre always mine. All the timeâ, Toji groaned. His tip hit your most sensitive spot; your eyes closing on their own. Toji rubbed your neglected clit, a hand grabbing the roots of your head. His grip firm yet gentle. âLook at me.â
You obeyed, staring into his dark eyes again. You could swear you saw stars on them. Toji leaned his forehead on yours, your touch enough to make him forget everything but your name.
âThere you goâ, he whispered. âFocus on me, pretty. Donât look away.â
Searching for those stars again, the waves of pleasure strong enough to shatter your mind. There was nothing but that spot you and Toji turned into one. Blinded by a fog, crushed by him, you came looking into his eyes.
Toji filled you with all he had. His head fell on your chest, it all too much for him to bear. It all too good for him to fully believe it was real. Gasping, he couldnât move. He couldnât speak. He couldnât do anything but breath on you. Sweet you.
Running your trembling fingers through his hair, you collapsed against the pillow. Toji was heavy enough to make you breathless, but you didnât want him to move. You wanted him as close as he could get.
âWelcome backâ, Toji murmured. Mimicking you, Toji ran his fingers through your hair. You felt him smiling against your skin. âI missed you.â
You knew exactly what he meant by that. âI love you tooâ, you whispered.
all rights reserved to © madwomansapologist
#madwomansapologist#i'm soooooo down bad for this man why am i like that?????#anyway i'm fixing him by making him worse in a different way#toji fushiguro#fushiguro toji#toji fluff#toji fushiguro x reader#toji x reader#jjk toji#toji smut#toji x you#toji fushiguro smut#toji fushiguro x you#toji fushiguro fluff#toji fushiguro imagine#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen smut
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Could you write Neuvillette blushes so bad when reader called him an otter.
a/n: hi anon! this is cute... yeah guys this is the obligatory neuvillette otter fic on my blog now, enjoy it âᎄâ
He shouldn't be feeling jealous. He knows how ridiculous it is to be envious of such a tiny critter, especially one that's been seeking equal amounts of attention from both you and him.
But he can't help it.
"Look!" You hold the otter up into the air, dangling it around in front of his face. The otter trills, curling up into a ball and giving Neuvillette what he can only imagine is the equivalent of puppy-dog eyes.
"Are you sure it is safe to pick it up like that?" Neuvillette murmurs, watching as you peer around the creature with a wide smile.
You're completely ignoring his concerns about scooping up a wild animal, unable to contain your excitement from finally having a chance to grab one of them. "It looks just like you. How cute!"
And he also knows that such a passing comment meant to tease him shouldn't make heat crawl up his neck, but it does anyways.
"How in the world does it look like me?"
Your fingers scratch at the top of the otter's head and it's horrible that all he can imagine is your hands doing the same to him.
You turn the critter around in the air like you're showing off your child, to which the man can only stare in confusion. "White fur, cute face. Even has blue streaks, like your horns!"
"I don't see it." (Correction, he refuses to see it.)
The otter makes another noise and licks his nose, clearly content with being the center of attention. He only scowls, cheeks flushing when he realizes how much you adore the damned thing.
"So adorable," you grin, cradling it in your arms. "Just- just...! So cute!"
He's pretty sure you're malfunctioning with the overload of cuteness. He fares no better, brain melting with every hard-struck realization that you might be calling him cute by extension since you're so insistent about the similarities.
"It..." he clears his throat, losing composure with the second-hand praises. "I suppose."
"You suppose?" You laugh, finally turning your eyes back to him. He almost melts into a puddle right then and there. "You're not jealous, are you?"
"Don't be ridiculous," he immediately refutes, rosy all the way to the tips of his ears.
"Jealous," you insist with a smile, setting the otter back down into the water. It leaves a shell as a parting gift and disappears into the sea.
"I am not jealous." Neuvillette bends down to pick up the shell, unceremoniously shoving it into your hands. You know you've got him then, with his sudden lack of manners.
The Iudex can't be jealous. Especially not over something so silly. But his face is a mortifying shade of pink, both at your passive comments about his similarities to such an adorable creature and your accusations of envy.
Your free hand suddenly lurches forward and grabs him by the face, effectively holding him in place while he falls apart. There's a pretty softness in your expression as you look at him.
"Cute," you tease, and he's melting all over again.
(Neuvillette flops down on the couch that night, face down in your lap. You raise a brow, setting your book down to peer at him curiously.
He's unmoving for a pause, completely still to the point where you wonder if he just instantly fell asleep. But then he shuffles, turning onto his back to look up at you.
Ah, there it is. Something akin to puppy-dog eyes underneath his stone cold expression.
Your fingers scratch gently at his scalp as you continue to read, combing through his long hair. "Knew it," you muse with a smug expression.
He grumbles with red cheeks.)
© ALABOADOA 2023 â please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.
#â whispers in the wind â§#ummm am i technically a neuvillette account now idk#genshin impact#genshin#genshin impact fic#genshin fic#genshin impact fluff#genshin drabbles#neuvillette#neuvillette genshin#neuvillette x reader#neuvillette x you#neuvillette x y/n#neuvillette x gender neutral reader#neuvillette x gn reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact x gender neutral reader#genshin impact x gn reader#genshin x reader#genshin x gn reader#genshin x gender neutral reader
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Crash Course in Love âą 3
pairing: snowboard instructor!Jungkook x ex-gf!reader (feat. platonic OT6) genre: rom-com, Exes 2 Lovers, slow-burn, angst rating: 18+, MDNI warnings: strong language, slow burn, angst, tension, bad communication skills, heartbreak, hangover, doubts, emotional rollercoaster, fight against nature, being stranded, crying, verbal fighting and screaming, explicit sexual content, bit of dry humping, fingering, scissoring, unprotected sex, breast play, hickeys, scratch marks, love bites, lmk if I forgot smth word count: 15.3k
a/n: i'm absolutely knackered now, completely worn out. BUT it was sooooo worth it lol hope y'all enjoy it to the fullest bc next update probably won't be until the new year...sooooo...have funnnn!
a/n 2: This work is purely fictional. All characters and events are entirely imaginary and do not reflect reality. No translations are allowed without permission. Thank you for understanding! đ
01 âą 02 âą masterlist âą 04
Day 4
âFuck.â
You think youâve woken up in hellâit must beâbecause, oh god, you feel like death. Your eyes are crusted shut, and you canât feel your legs. But as you rub the sleep out of your eyes and prop yourself up on your elbows, you realise itâs just Namjoon lying across them, snoring away.
You try to take in the room, piecing together the hazy puzzle of last night. The party, the song, you running off only to drown yourself with Yoongi and Namjoon in alcohol, throwing your own little after-party. You remember crying, remember singing your heart out to sad love songs blaring through Dionysus. What a fucking mess youâve becomeâŠ
But after all that chaos, thereâs only blackness. And seeing Yoongi and Namjoon still here with you in the suite, all of you fully dressed and reeking of alcohol, tells you enough. And as you groan, not just from the bottomless pit of stupidity, but from the pounding in your head, you let yourself collapse back onto your pillow.
You fight back another wave of tears, wishing the last 24 hours could just be erased, wishing you were back at home. You fumble blindly for your phone, finding it on the nightstand nearby.
2:56 p.m.
Just brilliant. Though, at least youâre spared from spending the whole day on the slopes. Not that youâd be able to walk straight with how youâre feeling, but a winâs a win.
You need to get up, though, so you start stirring both men awake. Yoongiâs not blocking you, but if youâre up, he has to be as well. Much to your surprise, both of them wake without protest, getting themselves into a sitting position on the bed, looking like zombies straight out of The Walking Dead. You reckon you look about the same.
âSorry,â Namjoon mumbles as you begin massaging some blood back into your legs, which feel like theyâre fighting for dear life.
âSâalright,â you croak out, unable to manage much more.
âPainkillers.â Yoongi just sits there, staring at his blanket, the rise and fall of his chest the only proof heâs still alive, though barely.
You and Namjoon both nod, but no one actually moves until, eventually, Namjoon risesâslowly, hands leaving the mattress only at the last second before he somehow straightens up and makes his way to the door, though itâs anything but a straight line.
Youâre the second to get up, staggering into the bathroom to wash off everything clinging to you. Youâre not sure if itâs just dried sweat or a bit of alcohol still on your skin, though you have a vague memory of Tae pouring something over your back. Either way, youâre in desperate need of a full shower to feel human again.
The only upside to this hangover is that your mind has finally shut up. Every bit of energy is focused on basic bodily functions, like breathing without throwing up and blinking your bloodshot eyes now and then. Youâre not even fazed when Yoongi stumbles in, taking a piss that seems to go on forever; he clearly couldnât give a fuck, and neither can you.
When youâve finished rinsing your hair and are wrapped in a towel thatâs too soft to absorb any actual moisture, you quietly switch places with Yoongi, both of you unintentionally making a point not to make eye contact.
Youâre not entirely sure why youâre still hereânot just in this town but on this entire trip. Thereâs no real drive left in you to give Jungkook closure, no fight in you at all, and definitely no desire to ever see him again.
So, you decide to get the hell out of here. Not right this second, no, your blood alcohol is likely still sky-high and will take a nosedive soon, taking you down with it, but tomorrow, youâre leaving. Itâs the healthiest thing you could do, because frankly, you lost Jungkook years ago, and that realisation sobers you up more than anything else could.Â
It doesnât stir the same emotions it once did as you pull Jungkookâs old hoodie out of your luggageâor maybe youâre just too tired to careâas you tug the oversized black fabric over your head, the only comfortable thing youâd brought on this trip. Some leggings on, with your phone stuffed into the front pocket of the hoodie, you make your way to the main area, letting your eyes roam to maybe spot your missing phone case.
Jungkookâs already lounging in a single armchair, poking absently at the fire with an iron stick, his gaze tracking you as you move around the room. But you ignore him. Itâs not like youâre being petty this time, and he can probably tell from your posture that youâre just not in the mood to interact at all.
Youâre especially glad he doesnât mention yourâor rather, hisâhoodie, and when you give up the search, realising the case isnât lying around here either, you shuffle over to the sofa, collapsing onto it and immediately pulling out your phone. Scrolling through YouTube, you pull the hoodieâs hood down a bit further to block out Jungkook entirely, settling on a spa video promising a very satisfying blackhead extraction.
If your lifeâs this miserable, youâre at least going to give yourself this kind of satisfaction, even if itâs short-lived. And anyway, there are millions of similar videos waiting for you and your lonely ass.Â
Namjoon emerges midway through your video, nudging your legs to make space for him. You shift, but only to let your legs settle in his lap as soon as he sits down.
âHere,â he offers, handing you two painkillers, which you take like theyâre sweets, chewing them up so they might kick in faster. He pulls a disgusted face, but it quickly fadesâprobably canât be bothered to waste any energy as well.Â
âJimin brought food,â Jungkook breaks the silence, still poking at the fire. âShould I get you some?â
Youâre not sure if heâs talking to you or Namjoon, but you answer anyway. âIâm good, thanks.â
Maybe he expected a different answer, as his stick pauses for a moment, but you couldnât care less. The chance to talk things out has passed, along with your will. Itâs on him now. Youâve seen and heard enough.
âWhy did you leave the party so early?â he tries again.
âIt was because of me, I justââ
You cut Namjoon off; he really doesnât need to do this for you. âStop lying, I wanted to leave, and Namjoon and Yoongi didnât want me to be alone.â
âWhy?â
You pause your video, turning to meet Jungkookâs eyes. Heâs bouncing his leg and chewing on his lip ring again, but itâs not your problem if heâs anxious or whatever. âNone of your business.â
Namjoon gives your knee a slight squeeze, and while Jungkook turns his attention back to the flames like youâre the one whoâs hurt him, he can go fuck himself. Youâre not dealing with him right now. Not when heâs got Hara pregnant and sings love songs for her.Â
Yoongi enters at that moment, settling into the armchair beside Jungkook and just managing to catch the two painkillers Namjoon tosses his way.
Silence returns, and you restart your video, losing yourself in the meditative extractions.
âCan I get a haaaawyeah?!â Tae bursts into the hostel, bringing Hope and Hara with him. Three of the four present groan in agony at the sudden noise, and youâre one of them. Still, you shift to sit up, making room for them to join.
Youâre not sure why Hara chooses to sit next to you, quietly handing over a takeaway box of food with that warm, familiar smile of hersâyou know itâs got to be from Jinâs.Â
âIâm not hungry,â you mumble, the bite you had a few minutes ago already feeling like it never had been there to begin with.
âPlease, eat something. Your body needs it.â
Sheâs right, but you canât bring yourself to even lift the lid, staring blankly at it as if itâll somehow reveal yet another surprise youâre not ready for. You know itâs not Haraâs fault youâre feeling like this, or that Jungkook chose her, but right now, all you can feel is bitterness, and her kindness only multiplies it.
Almost unconsciously, you glance up and find Jungkookâs eyes fixed on you, his leg still bouncing lightly, clearly tuned out from the lively conversation between the other guys.
Youâve kept this empty space in your heart reserved for him for so long, never realising heâd never fill it again. You just donât have the energy for this anymore, the will to keep playing his game where he pulls you back into his world only to remind you youâre no longer really part of it. Not properly.
You wonder if Jungkook even realises what heâs doing, if he has any clue about how his actions come across. Or maybe heâs just as stuck as you, caught up in his patterns and too blind to see beyond them. The care and worry in his eyes when he looks at you, when he notices you making poor choices for your healthâmaybe, you reason, itâs just because he doesnât know how to be any other way and nothing more.Â
But thatâs the thing about Jungkook: he genuinely cares. And thatâs why heâs going to be the best dad on this earthâjust not to your children.
âIâm really not hungry.â You think you see Jungkookâs jaw tick just a bit, but he again chooses to say nothing, his gaze, though, never wavering from you.
âI didnât mean to, but damn, that woman was something else,â Tae bursts, sprawled on the floor in front of you, accidentally nudging your knee as he laughs with the others.
âWho?â you ask, trying to tune into the conversation just to get away from the other.Â
âThat woman who was sitting by the bar all night. Tae pulled her,â Hope bursts out laughing, especially at your disgusted, shocked face.
âWas she any good?â Namjoon inquires, like itâs the most normal thing to ask about a one-night stand.
âWhat can I say? She taught me things I didnât even know existed.â
Yep, that infoâs enough to make you gag for real, and judging by Yoongi and Jungkookâs expressions, theyâre feeling the same.
âWant some?â you offer Yoongi the box, hoping to steer the conversation away fromâŠwhatever this is. But he just shakes his head, clearly not ready to risk upsetting his stomach as well.Â
Heâs pale as it is, and you can see the colour drain from his already bloodshot eyes at the sight of food. Poor man.Â
âJungkook, you hungry?â Hara offers softly, and you canât help but glance at him again.Â
His bouncing leg stills the instant she speaks to him. And even though itâs trueâJungkook can eat like a bottomless pit, never saying no to foodâyou donât really want to interact with him right now. But, some things havenât changed at all it seems, like you not being able to say no when it comes to him.Â
Jungkook looks at you with those big, hopeful eyes, as if to say just eat it yourselfâheâd never, like all those years ago, take food from you when itâs clear youâre barely eating yourself. But you just canât, and with that, you get up, lean over the small coffee table separating you both, and offer him the box with both hands, a small, shaky smile on your face.
Jungkook stands up too, reaching for the food between you. You think heâll just take it, but his hands cover yours, brushing over them until they settle on the container, and then, finally, he takes it. It catches you off guard, not just because he touched you first and not the box, but because it was absolutely deliberate.
Why he did it, you donât know, but all you can think about is getting away fast before all your bottled-up emotions explode in your face.
âCanâŠuhâŠcan someone drive me to the nearest petrol station?â you ask, standing there rooted to the spot, feeling your cheeks burn with embarrassment as everyone looks up at you.
Jungkookâs half a mind to put the box back on the table and get up again, but Hope springs up from his spot beside Taehyung, fishing his keys from his pocket. âIâve got you.â
âThanks, Iâll just get ready.â You cast him a quick, grateful look and head to your room, eyes down.
Hope just saved you there, because if Jungkook had offered to drive, you donât know what youâd have done. Sure, you want him to be happyâyouâre not some heartless person who wishes bad things on people, especially those who areâŠwereâŠclose to you.
 But what about your happiness? Donât you deserve to find peace too? To protect yourself? So yes, youâll take every bit of help you can get, even if itâs just a lift to the petrol station.
You didnât mean to startle so violently when you turned to close the suite door, but honestly, you hadnât even heard Hara following you, moving soundlessly like a ghost.
âCâŠcan I help you?â Youâre gripping the door until your knuckles turn white under your sweater paws, the door not even fully open anymore.
âCan I come in?â
Itâs like something out of a nightmare, knowing you canât turn her away just because Haraâs never done anything to hurt you. You have to remind yourself again and again that sheâs not the villain here, chanting it silently in your head, trying to drown out the hurt that wonât go away whenever you look at her.
So, you nod, opening the door a bit wider, then turn around to let her in and busy yourself with âlookingâ for your phone case, just so you donât have to face her.
âAre you okay?â
Her words break through the sound of the bedding as you give it a shake, hoping your case might fall out, but of course it doesnât. Just like the right answer isnât coming to you now, not to her question.
Maybe youâre okay, as okay as you can be. Maybe youâre not. Either way, youâre definitely not making her your therapistânot when sheâs involved in all this stupid mess.Â
âYeah, sure. Are you?â
âYeah, the sickness finally went away. I just hope I start to show soonâitâs getting weird at this point.â
You move around the room, checking every corner, stopping only when you spot an edge of your phone case outside on the porch, half-buried in the snow beside the jacuzzi.
âHow far along are you?â
âSeventeenth weekâŠweâll find out the gender soon.â Thereâs a subtle cheer in her voice that makes your heart soften for a moment.
It must be incredible to be expecting, especially to finally know the babyâs gender and go a bit mad with shopping. Youâre sure youâd be the same, and Hara likely will be, too.
You glance her way, offering a small, warm smile before opening the door to the porch. âGot a feeling what itâll be?â
Hara comes closer to the door as you step outside, staying in the warmth while leaning against the frame. âYes? No? Maybe?â She laughs. âSome days I swear itâs a boy, and then others Iâm convinced itâs a girl. Tomorrowâs the appointment, soâŠI hope mini-me reveals its gender and isnât shy.â
You giggle, fishing the icy case out of the snow and brushing off the clinging flakes. As you come back inside, Hara moves aside, settling herself on the edge of the bed while you grab a discarded shirt of Yoongiâs to dry the case off.
âHeyâŠuhâŠI donât quite know how to start this, butâŠI know youâre not doing alright.â
The glance you throw her way is wary rather than hostile, but still, you donât want a pep talk from her.
âPlease, just talk to each other.â
Biting your lip, you really donât want to say anything. Yes, you probably should talk to Jungkook, but then again, maybe you shouldnât. Heâs had countless chances to say something, to open up if he had any thoughts at allâand heâs used none of them. Not even when you broke up with him. He stayed silent, like he is now.
Maybe he just doesnât want to talk, not really, and youâre done waiting and being the one to start things.
âThereâs nothing left to talk about. But I appreciate your concern.â
Hara just nods, staring down at the floor, rubbing her hands together between her knees while you pull on your coat and tuck your phone safely into its case.
âItâs a nice case. Did you paint it yourself?â
You glance at your phone, rubbing your thumb over the faded paint that was once so bright. You couldnât bring yourself to get rid of it after the breakup, even though it reminds you of everything good about your time with Jungkook. Maybe thereâs some masochistic streak in you that wants to punish yourself for everything you did and didnât do. Maybe itâs time to let go of all the memories that keep pulling you back to a time thatâs long gone.
âNo.â You sigh, tucking it away in your coat pocket with your purse and heading to the door. You pause with your hand on the handle, checking to see if Haraâs following, which she is. Sheâs right behind you again, and this time, you just let out a startled scream internally, hoping you donât flinch too visibly.
Opening the door, you let her pass first, just to keep her in your sight this time, but as soon as youâre near the entrance to the main area, she stops, raising a hand. You give her a puzzled look, but she only points to one of her ears, so you lean in, trying to make out whatâs being said.
First, you catch the voices of Taehyung and Namjoon, Taehyungâs voice too loud and distinct not to notice. But when you listen a bit harder, you pick up Hope and Jungkook having a different conversation, probably a little further from the others.
âI know! I know youâre a good driver. JustâŠâ
âJust? Câmon, whatâs going on with you, C?â
âJust⊠take care of her, okay?â
âWhy wouldnât I? Youâre acting like Iâm some boy whoâs just got his licence and canât be trustedââ
The rustling of your coat drowns out the rest of their conversation as you step into the room, deciding not to eavesdrop any longer. You glance around briefly, and of course, Jungkookâs eyes find yours again, but you quickly turn towards Yoongi, resting your hands on his shoulders from behind where heâs still slouched on the one-seater. He wraps his hand around your wrist, his thumb gently brushing over your pulse.
âWhy was my case out in the snow?â you murmur into his ear, which earns a lazy laugh from him. He peeks over his shoulder at you, his voice still raspy from his hangover as he murmurs back.
âYou thought you could yeet it away and be done with it.â
Your cheeks go warm again; drunk-you is really ridiculous in every possible way. Youâre just grateful it was only Namjoon and Yoongi who saw your breakdown, and no one else.
âRight.â
âStay safe, yeah?â
He gives your wrist a gentle squeeze, and when your eyes meet again, even though his are still glassy from last nightâs antics, thereâs that quiet care in them only real family can have.Â
âI will. Thanks for being there for me, Yoongs.â You press a quick kiss to his head and give him a brief squeeze around his shoulders, only for him to dramatically fake his own demise.
Straightening up, you meet Hopeâs eyes, give him a quick nod, and head towards the door. Jungkook moves with the two of you, holding the door open without taking his eyes off you. His gaze is so intense that you canât keep eye contact, mumbling a quiet, hurried âthanksâ and âbyeâ as you follow Hope to his car.
You wouldnât have thought Hope would drive a brand-new car, especially a vibrant red one. You wonder if an equipment rental shop really makes that much of a profit or if everyone in this town is just batshit rich. At least youâll be safeâmuch safer than youâd be with Tony.
âSo, how longâs the drive?â you ask, taking in the carâs interior while buckling up in the passenger seat. You notice the soft leather under your bum and the chrome trim around the touchscreen on the console.
âMaybe twenty or thirty minutes, depends on whether the roads are clear or still covered in snow.â
You hum in acknowledgment, tucking your hands under your thighsânot only because theyâre still cold from the short walk outside, but also to avoid the urge to touch anything and risk breaking something youâd never be able to replace.
The carâs rolling down the steep hill you came from a few days ago in no time, and Hopeâs both hands are steady on the wheel, which helps you relax in your seat. Heâs definitely a good driver, like Yoongi, Jungkook, or your dadâthe kind you can actually relax around without fearing for your life.
âSoâŠwould you be a kind soul and tell me what youâre all talking about in that group chat, especially about me?â
Of course you had to askâwhy wouldnât you, now that youâre alone with someone whoâs clearly in on the whole scheme?
âSure, why wouldnât I?â
âDunnoâŠmaybe because of Namjoon.â
âOh, Iâm not scared of him.â Hope laughs heartily, but his eyes donât stray from the dark, snow-covered road ahead.
âSoooâŠ?â
âSo, you should just talk to C. Thatâs what weâre all talking about.â
âWow, wouldnât have thought of that.â
âSo whyâre you asking if thatâs not the answer you wanted?â
You fall silent.
âListen. You and C are both hurting. And the only way forward is for you both to learn how to communicate properly, aka talk to each other.â
âThereâs really nothing left to talk about.â
âWhyâs that?â
âHeâs clearly moved on, no?â
Like, duh.
âHas he now?â
Duh?âŠ
âYeah, with HaraâŠand the baby on its way.â
Were you wrong all this time? It canât be.
âOh, boyâŠâ
âDonât âoh boyâ me.â
âWhy do you think heâs with Hara?â
Youâre trying not to show how hard it is to think clearly in your state, but the time it takes you to respond says it all. âItâs obvious.â
âIs it? Because it sounds like youâre seeing things how you want to, not how they actually are.â
âRude.â
âItâs true.â
âYouâre really forward for someone I barely know.â
âWeâre not strangers, __.â Hope side-eyes you pointedly, making you scoot a tiny bit deeper into your seat.
âBasically, we are.â
âNo, weâre not friends yet, but weâre not strangers either.â
So what does this mean for you and Jungkook? Heâs not exactly a friend anymore, but heâs not a stranger either. OrâŠmaybe he is. God, your brain feels like itâs about to explode any minute now.
âPeople change, Hope. Jungkookâs changed.â
Hope lets a short silence settle between you, his fingers tapping softly against the leather wheel as if heâs thinking about what to say next. Only now do you realise thereâs no sound from the engine, and you clock that heâs driving an electric carâeven though he lives in the mountains, in the cold.
âHave you?â
Youâre half-tempted to just say yes, but is that really true? Youâre not sure. Maybe youâve matured a bit, but not enough to feel like a different person. What you do know for sure is that any growth you might have had stopped the moment you left Jungkook. Youâve been so caught up in trying to heal and be someone youâre not that you havenât really evolved into the person you could have been.
Anything reallyâmaybe a better person, but somehow still the same you. So, what have you become in the last few years? Are you the same? Or not quite?
âNot sure.â
Hope just nods, not as if heâs simply acknowledging what you said, but as if he already knew your answer. Itâs uncanny how much talking to him reminds you of Yoongi, both of them having that same no-bullshit approach.
âListen, Iâm not here to play mediator,â yep, definitely like Yoongi, ânor are the others. You need to talk to him, get things sorted before itâs too late.â
âWhat if itâs already too late?â
âI donât think so.â
âYouâre so positive.â You whine pathetically.Â
âAnd youâre a chronic pessimist.â He mimics you.Â
âIâm just cautious.â You pull your hands from under your thighs and throw them in the air, more to get your point across than anything.
âNo, youâre scared of what might never happen.â
Ouch. But heâs notâŠnot right.
âIâm not. Iâm doing snowboarding now, arenât I?â
âSo why are we heading to the nearest petrol station if youâre meant to be snowboarding all week?â
You shut your mouth and slide your hands back under your thighs, as if that might help you disappear. Maybe you werenât as subtle as you thought, and not only Hope but everyone elseâincluding Jungkookâhas seen right through you. Is that why Hara wanted to talk to you earlier? Urging you to finally talk to Jungkook?
âGotcha,â Hope giggles slightly, though when he sees your sad pout, he reaches over to give your knee a quick squeeze before returning his hand to the wheel.
âAlright, Iâm sorry if I hurt your feelings.â Okay, maybe not exactly like Yoongi. âBut from what Iâve seen and heard, you liked snowboarding. And Iâd say you probably enjoyed everything else youâve done before, too.â He glances over at you. âCorrect me if Iâm wrong.â
You just give a noncommittal shrug.
âYou need to trust yourself and your capabilities a bit more. Start having faith in the positive outcomes, not just the negative ones, yeah? Youâll never be able to live without fear if you overthink everythingâŠespecially things with Jungkook.â
Your pout deepens, a light sheen of tears coating your lashes, which you tell yourself are just from the hangover crashing down on you now, not from facing the uncomfortable truth of your very persona.Â
âI know itâs hard, ___. But sometimes thinking the worst makes it real, even though the outcome couldâve been different if youâd just had a bit more faith.â
âAre you talking about snowboarding or Jungkook?â
âBoth.â He giggles again, and you canât help but join in, sniffing your nose a little.
When just then another small town and the petrol station come into view, you straighten up in your seat, realising youâd been slouching more and more throughout the drive.
Even though youâre not looking forward to stepping outside into the cold, youâre glad for a bit of a cooldown, just to ease your exhaustion.
Hope parks his car right next to the petrol pump, and as soon as he turns it off, you both get out and head to the boot where two big empty canisters are waiting.
âHere, Iâll go to the one right behind this one.â He offers you one of the canisters, and while you take it, youâre still confused.
âI only need one, though.â
Heâs already unscrewed his, pumping petrol as he leans to the side to look at you.
âYeah, this oneâs for me.â
Youâre still confused, but you start filling your canister anyway.
âIsnât your car electric?â
âYeah, but I need emergency petrol for the generator in case thereâs an outage and the babyâs coming.â
You freeze. Is HopeâŠ? Oh god, you were so wrong all this time. Relief floods through you, so intense that tears spring to your eyes. Jungkookâs not the baby daddy.
âYouâre Haraâs baby daddy?â you squeak.
âGosh, no!â
And now you think you might throw up, the tears shifting back to the heartbreak of yesterday.
âAreum, my wife, sheâs seven months pregnant. You missed her yesterday with your epic escape.â
âOh. Uh, congratulations.â
But you only hear a snort from behind the pump.
Not wanting to fill the canister completely, you settle on half, afraid you might not have enough left in your bank account. Youâre not exactly broke, but youâre worried your employer hasnât transferred your pay on time. Again.
âIâm off to pay,â you mumble as you pass Hope and head into the small, warm station, where a young teenager plagued with acne stands behind the counter, his eyes barely lifting from his phone throughout your whole exchange.
âYour cardâs declined, miss.â
The remaining colour drains from your face at his words. This really canât be happening.
âCould youâŠcould you try again, please?â
The teenager just rolls his eyes, and if you werenât so mortified, youâd probably give him some shit for being so rude. But again, the familiar sound of your card being declined fills the little station, and when he hands your card back, you just mumble, âJust a second, please,â before stepping to the far corner by the cooling systems and getting your phone out.
And sure enough, your banking app shows youâre completely drained. Fuck. So thereâs only one option left, then.
âPick up, pick up, pick up.â
âYo,â Yoongi grumbles, and youâre pretty sure you can hear Jungkookâs panicked voice in the background, asking whatâs happened.
âI need your help,â you whisper, glancing over at the teenager to check if he can hear, but heâs already engrossed in his phone again.
âWhat do you need?â
âIâm short on cash. I canât payââ
âWhy?â
Yoongiâs tone isnât accusatory in the slightest, just genuinely surprised. Hope comes into the station now too, cocking a brow at you, which you try to ease with a shaky smile.
âMy employerâs late with my pay. Again. And the trip and, uhâŠit all justâŠâ
âIâm sorry,â Yoongi says, flat, almost monotone, but you know he feels awful now, realising youâre actually struggling, not just joking around. Itâs not his fault though; you never talk about money, and maybe heâs apologising not just because he let you pay for everything, but because you havenât had these conversations before.
âSâalright. Can you just transfer some money quickly so I canââ
âYeah.â
âThank you.â
You hear him sighâone that says, Donât make this a thing now. Hopeâs already paid for his, waiting by the door with his hands in his pockets, scanning some nearby magazines.
Knowing not to waste any more time, you hang up, open your banking app again, and refresh it every few seconds until there it is: a transfer of ten fucking thousand dollars from Yoongi, with the note, Shouldâve told me sooner.
You make a mental note to give him a piece of your mind regarding the sum later as you pay for the petrol, and dash out of the station, dragging Hope with you to escape the embarrassment as soon as possible.Â
âSlow down, will you?â
You let go of his arm once youâre by his car, rubbing your hands over your face in frustration as you mumble, âSorry. God, Iâm such a mess.â
âCome on, weâll talk in the car. I just wanna get home.â
And you do, silently, closing your eyes as the car winds through the woods back the way you came.
You know Hope doesnât want to pressure you, but you want to talk about it, just because bottling it up any longer would fry your brain.
âMy employer still hasnât transferred my pay,â you mumble. âI had to call Yoongi to borrow money.â
Hope lets out a long breath through his nose, shaking his head slowly as he listens.
âAgain, as in this isnât the first time?â
âYeah, as in he owes me several thousand dollars by now.â
âThousands?â
You tap your knuckle against the window, doing a quick mental tally of how much has piled up since you started working for this guy. âAbout fifty. Maybe a bit more.â
âNo. Fucking. Way.â Hope glances over at you with each word, then back to the road. â___, thatâs insane. Fifty thousand?! Why havenât you sued him? Or quit?â
âIâŠâ Yeah, good question. âI actually donât know.â
Itâs not like itâs a brilliant job worth hanging on to, but working from home has its perks, and finding another role in your field? Thatâs practically impossible without connections, which you definitely donât have, seeing as you work from home and have done for years.
âYouâre an accountant, yeah?â
âHow do you know?â you ask, stopping your gentle tapping against the window to look over at his profile.Â
âOh, who dâyou think told me?â He gives you a side-eye, looking slightly annoyed, and you just nod. âAreumâs an accountant too. She works for PwC, all remote. Theyâre looking for someone to cover her on maternity leave, and she gets to pick who fills in for her, sooooâŠâ
âSoooâŠ?â
âWoman, Iâm not spelling it out for you. Youâre not that thick.â
Ouch. âHey! Stop being so rude to me.â
âThen stop acting daft when youâre not.â
God, you want to strangle him. No wonder he gets along so well with Yoongi. You thought he was just this little ray of sunshine with that stupid bright laugh, but heâs feisty as hell.
âIâll think about it,â you mumble, knowing decisions like this arenât made right now, especially as the painkillers wear off and your mindâs about to shut down along with your eyelids.
Eventually, sleep takes over, and if youâre honest, you donât bother fighting it.
â___, wake up.â Hopeâs voice and the gentle push of his hand against your shoulder rouse you not long after. And even though sleeping, even just a bit, should have done you some good, you feel worse after a fifteen-minute nap.
Reluctantly, you straighten in your seat, trying to wake up properly, and smack your lips to get the awful taste off your tongue, but itâs no use. Youâll need to brush your teeth as soon as youâre in the suiteâthereâs no way around it.
âThanks for driving me,â you rasp, glancing out of the windscreen to see Jungkook hopping from one foot to the other in the cold, his breath rising in small clouds in front of him. âWhatâs he doing outside?â
âHeâs waiting for you.â
âOh.â
Itâs a mystery why Jungkook would do that, seeing as youâre clearly not on good terms. Youâve been trading jabs and whatnot with every interaction, so the fact that heâs not fed up by now is really baffling.
âIâm heading straight home if thatâs okay.â
âOh. Sure, yes, of course, sorry.â You unbuckle your seatbelt, knowing you shouldnât overstay your welcome, especially as Hope is snickering again. âThanks again and goodnight.â
âGoodnight. AndâŠtalk to him.â
Well, you donât really have a choice now. Especially when, after closing the passenger door, you walk to the boot to get your half-empty canister, only to find Jungkook already beside you.
âHere, let me help.â
He doesnât meet your eyes this time, which feels strange after he spent all afternoon staring at you.
âIâve got this.â
You heft the canister out of the boot and start walking straight to Tony to fill him up, letting the canister rest by your legs, you wave Hope off as he drives away, then clear the side of Tony of snow.
âWhat are you doing?â Jungkook stands beside you, arms crossed, chest puffed out. He looks intimidatingâhotly soâbut youâre still pissed and very much not in the mood for a chat.
âWhat does it look like?â
He just shrugs with a smirk, and as you finish clearing the snow, you realise youâve done the wrong side of Tony.Â
How embarrassing.
âDonât say anything.â
And he doesnât, aside from a quiet snicker as he follows you to the other side, where you finally start clearing the right bit of snow. This time, you find the cap and pull out your car keys to open it.
Ignoring your wishes, Jungkook picks up the canister and starts pouring the petrol into the car, biting his lip piercings again.
âTalk,â you snap, wanting to get this over withâwhatever it is thatâs bothering him so much heâs biting his lip bloody.
Jungkook glances briefly at you, and while youâve seen that sad expression on him countless times, it still stings.
âWhy did you leave?â
You sigh, glance towards the hostel, and look back at him. âWhen? When I broke up with you? On the slope yesterday? From the party? Or to the petrol station?â
Alright, it sounded cooler in your head, but youâre now realising you might have a bit of a tendency to run off. Oops.
âAll of them, I guess.â He muses, shutting the cap and screwing the canister lid back on as he turns to you fully.
âJungkook, thatâs a conversation Iâm not having with you right now.â
âAnd when would be the best time for it?â
âOh, I donât know. Maybe not outside, not in the middle of the night, not when Iâm batshit hungover, and especially not when youâve built a new life for yourself.â
That last bit wasnât really what you wanted to say, but it slipped out anyway, the perfect proof that itâs indeed not the best time.Â
âThatâs not fair.â
âItâs not fair for you to treat me like this, Jungkook. Iâm not doing this anymore.â
You turn while watching him run a hand through his hair, then stomp through the deep snow towards the hostel to stop yourself freezing out here.
âStop running away!â
âIâm not running away. Iâm going to bed. You should too.â
Jungkook catches the door at the last second and steps into Dionysus right behind you.
âYou are running away.â
You turn to face him sharply, causing him to nearly bulldoze into you, but he catches himself in time, stepping back a bit with his hands on his hips, still clutching the canister in his reddened hand.
âWhy did you need petrol for Tony, whoâs been out of it for days? Why now?â
You purse your lips, mirroring his stance instinctively, staring each other down. Youâre stubborn, but so is he, and youâre not backing down. He wants to start a fight? See who breaks first? See if youâre really running away from him? Well, youâll prove him wrong.
âSafety. Caution. Responsibility. Take your pick.â
Thereâs a familiar glint in his eyesâthe one that says he knows youâre bullshitting him. God, youâve missed this. Missed him.
âSo, not fleeing the scene, hm?â
âNot fleeing the scene.â
And youâre not. Change of plans: youâre staying. Youâll stay, and youâll whoop his ass by becoming the best snowboarder on the planet.
Jungkook just nods, and you nod back.
Usually, this would be the moment heâd tackle you and fuck the truth out of you in no time. And though you can vividly picture it, you need to keep your distance. So before the tension builds too much, before Jungkook becomes too much, you stop nodding and let your arms drop to your sides.
âGoodnight, Jungkook.â
He mirrors your stance, and though his eyes dim with that usual sadness, you refuse to see it as longing. Because why would he?
âGoodnight, ___.â
You nod, and while you canât quite tear yourself away from his gaze, you eventually turn and head up to your suite, finding Yoongi already silently and fast asleep, you canât help but to leave a tiny gap in the door, just enough to watch as Jungkook disappears into his own room.
Day 5
You feel good.
No, scratch thatâyou feel absolutely pumped, energised, and oh-so-ready for the day. Thereâs a wild fire blazing through your veins, just waiting to be unleashed, and youâre absolutely down for it.
Sitting alone in the dining room after that little talk with Yoongi about the sum he transferred to your bank account, only to be met with an eye roll in response, youâre busy preparing the most protein-packed breakfast Namjoonâs buffet has on offer. Youâll definitely need itânot just because your bodyâs craving nutrients, but because your brain needs to be at its best so you can finally beat Jungkook at his own game.
No, not with his petty remarks and actions, but by getting your answers with carefully placed, strategically even, questions so he doesnât even realise youâre grilling him. Youâre brilliant, so of course you can pull this off. The sulky victim era of ___ is overâhere comes the new, improved you.
Though, if youâre honest, you know thereâs a pretty decent chance that Jungkook might catch on to your plan. Heâs always been good at that, always been just as brilliant as you. But his competitive side usually has you beat by the end of the day. But not today. Today, youâre determined to win.
Especially when the man himself strolls in, looking sinfully good. His hairâs damp, falling messily over his forehead and eyes, while his thin white shirt hangs loosely off his shoulders, clinging slightly to his skin where he didnât dry off properly.
âMorning, Kook,â you chirp, practically singing it, intentionally calling him by the nickname you lovingly gave him all those years ago.
Jungkook slows his steps, one eyebrow raised and lips pursed. The confusionâs painted all across his face exactly as youâd hoped. Excellent.
âMorning.â He stops at your table, glancing at the empty chairs next to you and opposite you, and when he takes the one right beside you, youâre doing a little celebratory dance on the inside.
âDid you sleep well, Kook?â He eyes you as he gets his plate ready, and while he answers, you take a small bite of your food, your overly cheerful grin firmly in place.
âUh, yeah, did you?â
âOf course! Snuggly kept me company all night.â
The confusion in Jungkookâs eyes deepens, and youâd give anything to know whatâs running through his head right now. You keep your face just as innocent and cheerful as possible, though itâs getting harder by the second.
âSo, whatâve you been up to these past five months?â If your mathâs right, Haraâs now a little over four months along. So, if Jungkook was around back then, youâve got your answer.
âFive months?â He raises an eyebrow again, biting into the sandwich heâs just thrown together. Thereâs far more ham than breadâprobably more to keep his hands clean than for actual taste.
âYeah, whereâve you all been, then?â
âUh,â Jungkook chews, blinking at you. You can practically see the gears turning in his head as he tries to figure you out. âIâve been to Bangkok, Hawaii, and, uh⊠before that, I was here for a few months.â
No. Fucking. Way. So all those mixed signals, not only from Jungkook but all his friends too, werenât so mixed after all.
âThis townâs pretty small. Is there anything exciting to do off-season?â
âWell, Hara had a huge birthday celebration. So there was that.â
âHaraâs birthdayâs in August?â
âYeah, why?â
So he gave her a baby for her birthday. How pathetic it makes you feel, realising youâve been too busy being still his to fall for someone new all this time. But you donât let the heartbreak show this time. You swallow it down because shutting down wonât help you now.
âJust asking.â
Jungkook just nods again, still contemplating your words, trying to read your motives like he always does, though youâre as blank as can be beneath your smile. Itâs not that youâve lost your determination to get through snowboardingâno, youâre way too competitive and stubborn to back down now. Still, you kind of wish you were as drunk as youâd been two days ago.
The upside of being fully sober again is that you feel fantastic. Physically, anyway. The downside is that your brain wonât shut up.
You vividly remember the night you ended things, the exhaustion, the desperation in your every word as you tried to explain yourself to him. It wasnât that you didnât love him; you did and you still do, maybe even more than you should. But back then, youâd grown tired of always feeling like you werenât enough, of feeling like you were someone he didnât really need.
Youâd always been the one to soothe your doubts on your own, to make excuses for him and his choices, to tell yourself it was just a phase, that heâd eventually grow out of itâthat heâd grow out of it for you. Not that heâd never do anything risky again, but just enough for him to see that some things are too dangerous to try.
Losing him was completely your fault, you know that, and even though heâs going to be a dadâeven if itâs not your childâyouâd crawl back to him in a heartbeat if there were any chance. Not that youâd ever be a homewrecker; thatâs something youâd never do, and youâll respect any relationship on earth as it is. But if heâs only going to be a father, if heâs only co-parenting with Hara and theyâre not together, youâd try to make it work somehow.
Or maybe youâre just delusional, thinking youâd be okay with him having a kid thatâs not yours. Because deep down, the thought of him being with someone else after youâeven if you werenât together anymoreâmakes you want to throw up. Not just because picturing it is one of your worst nightmares, but because all the love declarations he made, and will probably make again in that scenario, would be empty in their truest form. At least in your eyes.Â
Thereâs nothing you can do about it; itâs not like youâre some grandma who thinks virginity before marriage is a must. But if he was with you and says heâd want to be with you again, thereâs no chance if he had someone else in between.
Jungkook sniffs beside you, and youâre not exactly proud that, since learning heâs staying here at the hostel too, youâve kept spare napkins nearby, just like the good old days, and youâre not proud as you hand him one with a small smile, still chewing, knowing his rhinitis is worst in the morning.
âThanks,â heâs smiling, though thereâs still that look of doubt in his eyes, as if heâs still trying to work out what youâre up to. âSo, how about you?â
Youâve half a mind to exaggerate again, but you know youâll need to save your energy today, especially since youâre spending the whole day with Jungkook. So you stick to the truth. âNothing really. Mostly work, and a few activities Iâve tried.â
âItâs weird.â
âWhat is?â
âYou doing all that stuff.â
Jungkook doesnât look as accusatory as he did the first day; this time, he actually looksâŠsad.
âDidnât you want me that way?â You keep your tone light, friendly even, but deep down, that old pettiness rises to the surface.
âNo.â The word slips from his lips without a momentâs hesitation, his sad eyes fixed on yours, and suddenly, you canât breathe. It just doesnât make sense.
âIâŠwhy?â
He slowly swallows his last bite and reaches for his coffee, just to toy with the rim of the mug. Then he lifts his gaze to meet yours, boring into your irises as if to tell you more than heâs actually saying. âThatâs not you.â
You just stare at him, trying to understand why heâd want you to change all those years ago, only to now tell you, indirectly, he doesnât like the person heâd pushed you to become. No words form in your brain, again too overwhelmed by it all, so you just nod, because quite honestly, heâs right. Itâs not who you are, even if some of the less riskier activities, like snowboarding, turned out to be more fun than youâd expected.
Jungkook doesnât seem to handle the silence well as you quietly finish your meal, as his leg starts bouncing under the table again, occasionally brushing against yours. Youâre sure he doesnât even notice it, but you do and while you think about shifting your leg slightly away, that faint touch of his somehow soothes the intense longing you have for him.
How many times youâve thought about calling him, only to remind yourself he was the one who let you go without a word, is beyond counting now. Trying to count would be like trying to reach infinity without breaking down as the despair catches up to you and you simply canât do either.Â
You need, with all your might, to pull your mind out of this endless void and focus on the good. Youâre able to have a normal conversation with Jungkook. Heâs fine. Youâre fine. And if you can make it through these next two weeks, you tell yourself that youâll be fine too, even if itâs without him. Because that countdown in your head has shiftedâfrom thinking youâve got time to work things out, to savouring these last moments with him as much as possible, hoping to make memories you can hold onto as fondly as the ones you made all those years ago.
âSo, todayâs blue slope day?â
Jungkook nods with a smirk, eyes still on his cup, clearly lost in thought. âYeah. You ready?â
âSure. I was born ready.â
The snort that escapes him mirrors your own, letting the sadness fade into that playful light in his eyes youâve always adored when he finally looks back up to you.Â
âThen letâs head out, shall we?â
âYes, sir!â You salute playfully, downing the rest of your or rather his iced Americanoâsneakily poured into a regular mugâin one go and standing as soon as Jungkook does.
It doesnât take long for you both to get fully geared up and leave the hostel, Jungkook closing the usual distance between you by walking much closer than he has on any of the previous days, though you welcome it this time.Â
âGive me your board.â Jungkook stretches out his free hand towards you when youâre just a few feet away from Dionysos.
âI can handle it.â
âI know you can. But you donât have to.â
Wondering whether youâre about to be stubborn again, you decide to let him help you. Itâs a nice gesture, and knowing his strengthâwhich has clearly grown over the last few yearsâitâs no bother for him to carry your snowboard too. So you hand it to him, mumbling a small, grateful âthanksâ and fall into step with him, the rustling of your gear and the dull thud of your boots the only sounds breaking the otherwise silent streets.
âItâs such a lovely day.â You marvel at the first rays of sunlight shining down, making the snow-covered streets steam ever so slightly, looking straight out of a fantasy.
The townâs not fully awake yet; a few people are setting up their displays outside, greeting you both with warm smiles and friendly faces. Itâs easy being here, so welcoming when you ignore the chaos thatâs crashed down on you since you arrived.
Youâd like to imagine living here, spending the rest of your life in this place with Jungkook, befriending his friends too, all in some alternate universe. You daydream about a winter wedding, teaching your kids how to build a snowman, and everything else.
It would be nice, it would be perfect. Because in that universe, youâd still be with Jungkook, and youâd be not only happy but fulfilled.
âIt is, the slopes should be perfect too.â
A small group of kindergarteners crosses your path just before the slopes, and as your gaze drifts from them to the shop windows behind, you catch the reflection of you and Jungkook side by side. Heâs looking at the kids, full of adoration, with that same endearing smile you fell in love with all those years ago.
His hairâs just as shiny and healthy, his eyes sparkling in that familiar way. Youâve always known how much Jungkook wants a familyâhe always has, just as you always did. Itâs one of the reasons you connected so quickly. His values and hopes for the future aligned so perfectly with yours that falling for him and picturing a life together was almost inevitable.
You knew back then that having different hobbies wasnât the most important thing in a relationship, that differences in those areas wouldnât decide its downfall. But somehow, you both let those differences take centre stage.
It wasnât just poor communication that damaged things; you lost sight of what truly mattered, letting the good become tainted with doubt, trust begin to crack, and your hearts bleed in ways they never should have.
Standing there now, side by side, you realise that everything that happened, the way you both handled things, was so unnecessarily foolish. You wish youâd made different choices. You look perfect together, like one of those couples you see and just know theyâre meant to be, like theyâre soulmates, like theyâre fated.
Jungkookâs eyes lift up, catching yours in the window, and his smile grows just a bit wider. Thereâs still that adoration thereâor is it just nostalgia? Or maybe itâs the inner peace he feels, knowing heâll soon have a child of his own? Youâre not sure, and youâre afraid to let yourself think too deeply about it. Because, honestly, if itâs anything but adoration, youâd spiral so much, so irrevocably, that you might just break all over again.
Switching your board to his other hand, where heâs already holding his own, he lifts his now free arm and wraps it over your shoulder, pulling you into his side. Your head doesnât even reach his eyes, and your shoulder aligns perfectly with his arm, like youâre a puzzle piece fitting into him. You canât help the broad smile that breaks over your face when he says, âIâm glad youâre here.â
You turn away from the window, tilting your head up to look into his beautiful brown eyes, taking in this small, pure moment that youâll lock away in the deepest parts of your heart and cherish for the rest of your life. âMe too.â
Simple moments like these with Jungkook have always been so beautiful. Itâs always been like this, just the two of you in a bubble where nothing else matters. The ache in your heart should ease in moments like this, but instead, it grows, the longing building until itâs nearly unbearable.
How perfect it would feel to kiss him now, how your heart and soul would sing if he kissed you back. The realisationâthe overwhelming certaintyâthat he truly was the one for you hits you like an avalanche, burying you so deeply youâll never find a way out.
Still, you turn your face away, and he lets you go.
âLetâs get it.â Jungkook cheers, and you echo his words, because you donât know what else to say, walking side by side to the lift. Thankfully, this time without any annoying interruptions from his fangirls.
The first ride up in the ski gondola is equal parts terrifying and beautiful. The trees below look like miniature toys, and the mountain peaks seem too stunning to be real, like a picture painted by an artist. The gondola is empty except for the two of you, Jungkook sitting across from you, both of you gazing outside. But every now and then, you canât help glancing at his reflection.
Jungkook talks the entire way up, going over everything you should know about snowboarding by now. His calm voice, his solid presence right in front of you, and his patient review of the basics settle the last of your nerves, along with Hopeâs words, still ringing loudly in your mind.
Fear is faith in the negative.
And you donât want to live like that againânot now, and not when itâs just snowboarding. You trust your own abilities, and you trust Jungkook to keep you safe, like he always has. Well, aside from that one camping incidentâbut youâll turn a blind eye to that for now. You have to, because one lapse in his judgement all those years ago shouldnât undo everything else heâs proven to you.
The morning is spent making descent after descent, each one becoming easier and more fun, especially with Jungkook staying close. You manage to fall less and less, and when you do, heâs always right there, reaching out to help you back on your feet.
And while youâre laughing and joking like old times, it feels as if no time has passed at all.
Just before lunch, you both find yourselves back at the gondola, though this time itâs a different one.
âThereâs this restaurant way up there.â Jungkook points into the distance, and you squint, trying to follow his finger, but the sun is too bright to make out exactly where heâs pointing. âThe foodâs amazing, and weâll be able to take a way longer run down. Itâll build your stamina and get you ready for the harder slopes tomorrow.â
âSounds good.â You smile at him, excited not only for the food but also for the chance to push yourself a bit more.
When you step into the gondola with a few others, itâs so packed that you have to squeeze in beside Jungkook, pressing against his side. With his broad shoulders and your thick coat, thereâs not much room and after a few minutes, Jungkook shifts and lifts his arm, draping it over your shoulder to give you both a bit more space.
You frown. Even though itâs more comfortable this way, you donât like it at all. If heâs with Hara, this is crossing boundaries left and right. You know that if you were still together and he did this with another woman, itâd be a dealbreaker.
The gesture sours your mood instantly, letting your thoughts spiral in a way that has you dangerously close to snapping at him. But you hold back. You wonât start a scene now, not here; youâll wait until youâre at the restaurant and talk things through.
When you reach the top and leave the gondola, heading toward the small restaurant by the lift, Jungkook keeps his hand resting lightly on your back.
Itâs ironic, really. You left because you wanted him to find happiness, to be with someone who wouldnât bring conflict, someone he wouldnât feel the need to change. And here he is, supposedly happy, yet acting like youâre still his, clinging to old habits like theyâre the only things he has left with you.Â
Maybe thatâs the saddest part of all. Heâs got everything he once told you he wanted, yet heâs still holding onto pieces of the past, unable to let them go. And maybe heâll never fully move on, just like you havenât, even if he thinks he has. But thatâs not something you can fix. You triedâmore than onceâto help him keep his distance, to let go of whatever still kept him wounded. Even if it wasnât the perfect approach, pretending to be with Yoongi, you thought it might help him move on. But he has to handle that himself now; youâre done being the one to guide him there.
You deserve peace, too. You deserve to be able to look back on your time together without feeling unresolved tension. If that means keeping your distance, letting him live his life with Hara without stepping in, then so be it. Youâre done making excuses for him, done justifying his behaviour to yourself. Heâs made his choices, back then and now too, and now itâs time for you to make yours.
You take a deep breath, letting it all settle within you as you step into the restaurant. The hurt, the sadness, the longingâsure, itâs all still there, and maybe it always will be. But now, itâs just that: memories. Moments you once cherished, now filed away in a part of your heart that no longer needs to cling so tightly. Or at least, thatâs what you hope.
As you sit down across from him, letting go bit by bit, you realise that maybe this is what closure should feel like. Hurtful, and not freeing at all.Â
âYouâre kinda touchy.âÂ
Jungkook looks up from his menu, running the tip of his tongue over his lip piercing. âI always am.â
Your lips press into a firm line, shoulders tensing even more. Jungkookâs eyes dart over you, and he realises too late that your mood has shifted. As he catches on, his nervous habits start to surface in an instant. He fumbles with his menu, his leg bouncing so hard that the tablecloth shifts slightly with each movement.
âDoesnât it feel wrong to you?â You ask, your tone so accusatory it even startles you.
Jungkook gulps, actually gulps, and you feel the urge to laugh or maybe storm off altogether.
âNo?â He sounds uncertain, though thereâs a strange conviction in his voice, even with his nerves. âDoes it bother you?â
âYes.â
You stare each other down, Jungkook nodding but tilting his head slightly, eyebrows drawn. âIs it because of Yoongi?â
Should you come clean and tell him youâre not dating Yoongi, that heâs just your cousin? But you canât see the point. It wouldnât change anything now, youâre sure of that. Though youâre not sure if the snort and shake of your head is more because of how absurd it all is, or if itâs meant to answer his question. Either way, it fits. And as Jungkook exhales sharply through his nose, his jaw clenching in a steady rhythm, you donât say anything more.
The tension between you feels like itâs growing and the silence between you both is almost suffocating you. You try to distract yourself by looking at the scenery outside the window, but itâs no use.
âI never wanted to do all those things,â you mumble, as if you can somehow lift a bit of the weight off your chest. âBut I felt soâŠso unworthyâŠso empty. I needed to do it, even if I hated most of it.â
The waiter sets down your plates and drinks, wishing you a pleasant meal. Still, you donât look up at Jungkook, maybe out of embarrassment, maybe because you just canât. Instead, you stare at your food, forcing yourself to eat, even if itâs only a little.
âYou shouldnât have.â His voice is gentle, and you feel his gaze burning onto your face, though you try to ignore it. âNot for someone else, at least.â
Is he talking about himself? Or does he think you did it all for Yoongi? Either way, heâs right, though those words would have made more difference if heâd said them years ago.
âMaybe youâre right.â
Itâs unusual to see Jungkook eating so slowly, and itâs not like you to keep so quiet, either. Itâs not that you canât handle silence, but sharing a meal like this without any connection feels so pointless.
âWas it easy?â Jungkook eventually asks, and your eyes involuntarily snap up to him.
âWhat was?â
âMoving on so fastâŠâ
Sometimes, looking at Jungkook like you do now, you marvel at how much heâs matured. His features have lost that softness, his smooth skin now showing faint lines from laughter and time you werenât there to share.
Youâd always imagined growing old with him, and even though it hasnât been that long, your heart aches for all the time lost.
The faint, bluish shadows under his eyes, something he didnât even have during his finals, make him look not just tired, but drained off life. You can only hope itâs not because of you.
âI never did, so I canât say.â
You both go back to eating, letting silence settle again as you try to process it all. Maybe you need a whiteboard, or even a list, something to help you make sense of it all, thinking youâll definitely do that later, once youâre back at the hostel tonight.Â
More than half your plate is still full, but you canât seem to eat any more. As you set your cutlery down and tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, you notice Jungkookâs already finished his meal.
âYou should eat more.â
âIâm full. Iâll just take it to go.â
And after Jungkook sighs and nods, you do just that, quickly insisting youâll pay for your own meal, refusing to let him cover it for you.
Finally back outside, the sky has shifted, like your mood, from sunny and clear to dark, with low-hanging, heavy clouds.
âThatâs odd,â Jungkook mutters, fishing his phone out and typing quickly. âForecast didnât mention a downpour.â
âWhat should we do?â Your nerves flare, body tingling and palms starting to sweat as that familiar panic creeps in, the kind that takes over any time things veer off-plan.
Jungkookâs eyes dart over his screen, only adding to your unease.
âShit,â he curses under his breath and puts his phone away. âSo, uh, thereâs a thunder cell thatâs come up out of nowhere, and thereâs a warning for a severe snowstorm. But itâs all good. We still have time.â
Just then, the first big snowflakes start falling from the clouds, and the wind picks up. As you look up at the sky, your voice trembles, âJungkook?â
âAlright, okay, maybe we donât have as much time as I thought. Weâre going to head down this way quickly, but safely.â He points toward a fork in the path where you can see a sign with a blue dot in one direction and a black one in the otherâthe black meaning itâs the most difficult and dangerous run there is.
âOkay.â You donât sound entirely convinced, partly because, while you believe in your skills, you know that in these weather conditions, even the best skills wonât count for much.
âStrap on your board. We need to go.â
And you follow his instructions because, at this point, thereâs no other option. The wind has picked up dramatically by the time you straighten up again, and you have to strain every muscle to stay upright against its force.
Youâre terrified, and Jungkookâs focused, hurried pace isnât doing much to settle your nerves.
âYouâre leading, so I can keep my eyes on you.âÂ
You nod, shifting your weight forward to start descending, but keeping control of the board proves not just difficult, but almost impossible. Your vision blurs with the flurry of snowflakes, even through your goggles, you can barely make out the slope or see the fork ahead.
âTo the right!â you hear Jungkook shout from behind, his voice frantic to its core. But as you pick up speed, the wind shoves you beyond the limit of what you can handle, pushing you towards the left, dangerously close to the black run.
âTo the right, ___!â
You try, you really do, but you canât seem to manage it. Like a leaf in a gale, youâre pulled in the direction you donât want to go, helpless to stop it. Lungs burning with each short breath, you think you scream the moment you realise itâs too late, skidding down the steep, black slope.
You try to brake, just like Jungkook taught you, but your knees are weak, your muscles not trained enough to regain control.
Jungkook rushes up beside you, and even though youâre in full survival mode, his presence brings you a tiny sliver of reassurance, even if itâs just for a while.Â
âYouâre doing good, keep going!â
And you do, tears streaming down under your scarf. The storm keeps pushing you off course, pulling you again and again in directions you donât want to go. But Jungkookâs right there, sticking close beside you, trying to block out some of the windâs blasts and guiding you as best as he can.
It feels like an eternityâfighting against nature, fighting to stay upright, fighting the fear building stronger and stronger in your chest. Somehow, even though you left the marked slope ages ago, heading somewhere unknown and unsure if itâll lead you to safety, you spot a small, abandoned-looking hut in the distance.
âTry to stop!â Jungkook yells, his voice barely reaching you through the howling wind.
âNow?â
âNow!â
You manage to stop, though clumsily, falling hard onto your bum, every muscle aching so painfully youâre barely able to move. Jungkook ditches his board in seconds, crawling over to help you with yours as the frozen clips stubbornly resist coming loose.
âYou good?â He glances briefly at your face, breath visible in short puffs matching yours, his lips chapped and slightly split.
You nod, though youâre still trembling, trying to steady yourself as adrenaline surges through you without much mercy.Â
Jungkook gets up with your board in hand, offering his free hand to you in a heartbeat and pulling you up effortlessly. After he picks up his own board, jointing yours, he clasps your hand with his free one and bolts towards the hut, dragging you along with him.Â
Thankfully, or rather miraculously, the hutâs indeed abandoned and open. And while Jungkook pushes you inside first, letting the boards clatter onto the wooden floor as he leans against the door, both of you are panting and gasping for air, needing this break more than anything.Â
The hutâs not really windproof, small gaps in the wooden walls still letting the cold wind whistle inside.
âSeriously? What the hell were you thinking?!â He rips his helmet off and throws it to the boards on the ground.
You try to straighten yourself, though the acheâs nearly too much. âI⊠I tried. I⊠itâŠâ
âYou just never listen, do you? I told you to turn right back there, but of course, you went your own way. Always have, always will.â
The storm outsideâs picked up even more now, and the cold has seeped into your bones, though you still fold your arms, doing your best to keep your voice steady despite the burn in your lungs. âOh, please, Jungkook. Donât act like Iâm the only one who doesnât listen. Youâve got selective hearing when it suits you.â
He lets out a frustrated sigh, running a gloved hand through his sweat-dampened hair. âSelective hearing? I spent years trying to tell you things, but you were always too stubborn to actually listen.â
âRight, yeah, Iâm the stubborn one,â you snap right back. âYou still canât even talk to me unless itâs about some bullshit like snowboarding.â
âOh, as if youâre any better.â
âI am! You didnât even say one word before I left!â you explode, ripping off your helmet too, followed by your gloves, yeeting them across the hut.
âOh, fuck off, ___! I wanted to, but clearly, you couldnât wait to fuck Yoongi as soon as you got rid off me!â
âYoongiâs my cousin, Jungkook. Family. But I wouldnât expect you to know that, since you barely know anything about my life anymore.â
Jungkookâs face falls at that, and you can clearly see how his whole world view crumbles in his eyes, leaving nothing behind but a hollow sadness youâve never seen before. Though youâre sad too, youâre hollow too, and so you continue, âDonât pin this on me when I never moved on, when you were the one fucking Hara and giving her a baby.â
His unfocused eyes snap to you, lips still parted as he breathes, âI never slept with her. Sheâs Jinâs wife.â
You feel like youâre falling, falling so hard and fast you canât stop. The tears that coat your eyes are nothing compared to the agonising realisation ripping you open. All those years, even all this hurt youâve been experiencing these last few days, were unfounded.
If you werenât this close to Jungkook, youâd think his red nose was just from the cold, but the silver lining his eyes carry shows just how broken you both are, what you did to yourselves without even realising it in the first place.Â
âYou moved on,â you press out, fighting the sob that threatens to spill.
âI havenât.â
How foolish all the assumptions were, how foolish of him to assume just as much. How utterly foolish that you both lost the ability to talk to each other long before your relationship ended.
But maybe it had to come to this for you to learn what itâs like to be separated, to learn how to communicate⊠but have you really? You reckon you havenât, not given how things went down. Maybe itâs too late, just as Hope warned you, though a small, fragile part in you clings to the delusion that things might still turn out right.
âLetâs⊠letâs call for help.â You turn, unable to keep looking at Jungkook, and youâre sure he needs time to process the bomb thatâs just dropped.
âYeah,â heâs taking out his phone again, though the breath he lets out is nothing short of concerning. âMy phoneâs dead. How about yours?â
By now youâve sat down on the small, bare bed, as standing any longer would have had you fainting by this point. While you rummage through your inner coat pocket to pull out your old beaten-up phone, Jungkook stomps over with his snow-covered boots and sits down beside you, leaving enough space between you that it feels like miles.
Lighting up the screen, you see your phoneâs battery miraculously still well over 90%, but thereâs absolutely no signal. âNope, no signal. Weâre stranded.â
Just as youâre about to put your phone back, Jungkook stops you with his voice. âYou still got the case?â
You pause, looking over at him, only to meet hopeful eyes you canât quite place.
âUh, yeah. You clearly got rid of yours though.â
You hate sounding so bitter, but it is what it is. Years of feeling the way you did canât be undone with one revelation.
âI lost it⊠my phone, too, when I was in the Caribbean shortly after weâŠâ
You hum and nod because what else is there to do?
âWhy did you keep it?â
Your eyes stray from your phone, where youâre running your thumb over one of Jungkookâs doodles on the case like it always does, to him, though heâs not looking at you this time, just fiddling with his gloves in his lap.
âI canât get rid of memories. You should know that.â
âEven if theyâre bad?â He turns his head to you, though his eyes are fixed on your phone. The way heâs slouching is so unlike him, and it hurts to see what youâve done to him.
âThey arenât bad.â
Jungkook nods a few times, as if heâs trying to cement your words in his mind, rewriting everything he thought was real but never was.
Eventually, Jungkook stands up and walks over to a small closet, pulling open the doors to see whatâs inside.
âNo way.â He breathes out a laugh, and you crane your neck to look past his broad shoulders, though itâs no use.
When he turns, arms full of vacuum bags stuffed with blankets and pillows, you feel like you might scream in delight. Especially when Jungkook rips them open beside you and a waft of freshly washed fabric hits you.
âThatâs like hitting the jackpot.â You look up at him, your grin as wide as his as he just laughs. âCan you light the fireplace too?â
Jungkook furrows his brows as he looks around the hut, likely because he hadnât spotted it until now. But as soon as he clocks it, along with the stack of dried wood beside it, heâs off in a flash, inspecting the chimney and everything else.
Meanwhile, you gather all the bedding and spread it out on the bed, purposefully ignoring the fact that thereâs only this one bed in the hut and not even a couch. It shouldnât be a big dealâyouâve done more than sleep in the same bed as Jungkook before, and youâre both clearly single, so thereâs nothing your conscience can protest about.
Still, time has passed, and youâve clearly drifted apart more than you wouldâve liked. Itâs an unusual situation youâre in, an emergency really, and youâll have to adjust to it without reading too much into it.
âGot a lighter on you?â
You pull it out of your pocket, leaving Yoongiâs cigarettes in your pocket that you nicked this morning alongside before leaving, and toss the lighter his way which he catches effortlessly with one hand, lighting up the kindling heâs set, framed by a few larger sticks of wood.
Jungkook watches the fire intently, and soon enough the hutâs heating up, allowing you to take off your coat. Not wanting to keep your boots on any longerâby now, theyâve cut off all circulation in your feetâyou pull them off as well, then crawl onto the bed, settling against the headboard under the layers of blankets.
Youâre absolutely knackered at this point, and as you check the time on your phone, you realise itâs already past dinnertime.
âYou can join me, you know?â you smile as Jungkook turns around, muttering an âokayâ and starting to peel off his gear too, though you donât miss the flush creeping up to his ears.
How endearing he can still be.
The bedâs clearly not meant for twoâespecially not when Jungkookâs become this buff. Heâd probably struggle to fit on his own, let alone with someone else. And though youâre fairly petite next to him, youâre both squished together, personal space nonexistent. Still, itâs better than freezing to death outside.
âIâm so tired,â you yawn.
âIâm so hungry.â
The pout on Jungkookâs face makes you giggle; itâs just so him. Without thinking, you lean over him to fetch the food from your coat. Only when you settle back beside him do you notice how stiff heâs gone.
You donât comment on it, just hand him the leftovers, which he reluctantly takes, though this time he doesnât engulf your hands like he did yesterday. Not that youâd admit it, but youâre a bit sad he didnât do it again.
âYou hungry too? Itâs your food.â
âIâm good, Jungkook, please just eat.â
Youâre starting to read him again, just a bit less hazy than it was the last few days. So before he can start arguing with you, those sad boba eyes pleading for you to eat when youâre genuinely not hungry, you lay your hand over his arm, giving it a light squeeze. âIâm not hungry, promise.â
With that, Jungkook starts to eat and you lean back, slumping more into the blankets as he eats in silence, your eyes growing heavy with each passing minute.Â
âYou can sleep if you want.â Jungkook gently pulls the blanket higher over your shoulder as you lie down fully, your head nearly resting against his hip.
âIâm still cold,â you mumble sleepily, though thereâs no chance youâll really fall asleep while youâre still shivering like this. The stormâs really taken it out of you.
Jungkook shifts, and when you open your eyes, you realise heâs finished eating and is lying down facing you. âTurn around.â
Lying beside him like this, faces just inches apart, is something you never thought would happen again. And while itâs hard to look away from himâthe slope of his nose, the Cupidâs bow of his lips making them almost too invitingâyou fight against the blankets draped over you both and turn around. Jungkook slips an arm around your waist without much care, pulling you fully against him until thereâs no space left between you.
Heart racing like a hummingbirdâs wings, you try to relax into his hold, but the thin layer of fabric separating you makes it feel as though youâre bare. Youâd seen the contours of his body when he stripped off his gear, the black thermal shirt and pants clinging to his muscles like a second skin, leaving nothing to the imagination. But feeling his solid body against yours like this, after so long, leaves your head spinning in circles you canât seem to stop.
You havenât noticed how your hips press back against his crotch, havenât noticed the way your body instinctively moves against his until Jungkookâs breath hits your ear.
âSorry,â you breathe, but somehow, you canât bring yourself to stop. His large hand, which had been resting on the mattress beside you, slides up along your stomach, stopping just before cupping your breast from below, and you know youâve stepped through a door that shouldâve been left closed.
Heat rises within you, making you shiver with something far more pleasant than the cold. You need more of him, more of his touch, and your hand slips from beneath the blankets, reaching back to tangle in the hair at the back of his head, willing yourself to just feel and nothing more.Â
His quick breaths ghost across the part of your neck thatâs bare, just enough to spark more want not only in your heart but your cunt too. You tug gently at his hair, urging him down, igniting a fire you know wonât be put out easily.
Before his hand fully cups your breast, he pulls you even tighter against him, hot lips kissing and sucking at your skin as you press yourself back, trying to ease the ache between your legs against his growing cock.
The low moans slipping from Jungkookâs throat are music to your ears, and the realisation that he likely sang that song not for Hara, but for you, sends another wave of arousal out of your cunt.
âJungkookâŠâ you rasp, basking in his touch, but as soon as his name leaves your lips, he pulls back.
Thinking youâve done something wrong, you turn your head, only to see him tugging off the last of his clothes. Relieved and more turned on than youâve ever been, you strip off your own gear, leaving the blanket draped over you. Itâs been years, your bodyâs changed, and while you know it shouldnât matter, you still hope he doesnât notice.
In a blink, heâs back, resuming where he left off, though now itâs his warm, smooth skin against yours. The ridges of his abdomen press along your back, and the feel of his cockâhard and oh so hotâagainst the cheeks of your ass is pure bliss.
You turn your head, trying to catch his gaze, maybe even hoping for a kiss, but when you catch sight of the familiar chain around his neck, it stops you in your tracks.
Jungkook pauses too, his eyes questioning, but as soon as he realises what youâre looking at, he gives you a lazy smirk, his hand cupping your face to turn you towards him and with it your whole body.Â
You expect him to kiss you now, hungrily like he always did, but instead, he brushes his lips along your cheek, your neck, shifting to settle between your legs while the cool metal of the chainâs grazing your tits with every shift of his body.
âI donât have a condom. I couldâŠeat you out.â
His thigh pressing against you doesnât lessen the ache, but you remember the one scare you had together, that time you thought you might be pregnant not long after youâd started dating. It wasnât that you wouldnât have wanted it, but youâd both been so young. Even now, the thought makes your heart skip, but not as violently as it used to. Youâd be ready and willing to take the risk, though, would he?Â
âIâm clean, on the pill.â
Jungkook lets out a low groan against your neck as you press your thigh gently against his cock, needing to give something back.
âI havenât been with anyone since you. So clean.â
Is he serious? The thought hits you hard, and though you know he never lied to you before, you still canât help but pull back, needing to see his face.
âYou havenât?â
âNo.â His voice is barely a whisper, and the same love you remember shines in his eyes, making you tear up.
âMe too.â
âFuck.â He returns to your neck, his fingers tracing your lines until they find your weeping cunt, slipping between your lips to spread your juices in gentle, familiar strokes as he preps you, every touch an echo of the love that maybe never faded.
The first stretch of his middle finger inside you is nothing short of insane, drawing you higher with a single stroke than any toy has managed in years. The way your cunt clenches around him seems to drive Jungkook on even more as he pumps with precise motions, soon adding his ring finger, bringing you dangerously close to euphoria.
Jungkookâs free hand roams from your neck to your tits, back and forth, squeezing, mapping you out like he forgot how you felt like, though finally resting on your jaw as he nestles his head between your shoulder and neck, leaving soft love bites in his wake.
Itâs when he picks up the pace, the base of his palm hitting your clit relentlessly with each thrust, that you come undone, your orgasm flooding over his hand as he continues, determined to not stop just yet.Â
A muffled whine of your name slips from his lips, softer than youâve ever heard, and while you long to hear him call your pet name like he used to, it only amplifies the fullness in your heart for him.
Jungkook keeps his fingers inside you, now scissoring them to stretch you further as you cling to his back, not caring if you leave angry marks.Â
âThink you can take it?â
âYes,â you mewl, not caring if you couldnât. Youâll take him, you need him, need to feel as if none of those years apart ever happened.
Once again, you think he might finally kiss you, but instead, he leans in and presses a soft kiss to your damp forehead. You momentarily frown, but itâs forgotten the second his cock aligns with your still sobbing cunt, dragging up and down to coat his entire length and even his tight balls.
The sight of Jungkook when he finally pushes in is nothing short of mesmerising. Heâs so perfectly sculpted, every muscle cord defined, and with his piercings and tattoo sleeve, he looks like a fantasy you never dared dreaming of.Â
Youâve always had a weak spot for tattoos, but seeing them inked across Jungkookâs skin? Thatâs your ultimate downfall. A glorious downfall, as the burn of his thick length pushing deep inside you sends you reeling, until heâs so far in that you canât tell where he starts and you end.
âOh my god,â you choke out, overwhelmed by everything Jungkook isâand everything heâs become.
Heâs unusually silent, though you barely notice, not when he begins to rock his hips, leisurely sliding his massive cock in and out, low grunts and moans escaping him as his gaze locks onto yours and not dares to stray.Â
Jungkook leans back, increasing the intensity of his thrusts, sweat forming in small beads along the ridges of his chest and abs, dripping down despite the cold. His nipples are hard, and your mouth waters with the urge to suck on them. But seeing his own mouth slightly parted, breaths quickening in time with the rhythm of his hips, youâre sure heâs thinking the same, drawn to your own nipples, standing proud on the jiggling flesh of your chest.Â
And while you wish you were the flicker of firelight dancing across his skin, youâre not far behind, as his hands find their way from your hips to your tits, caressing them like he always did, giving you everything and far more. You need something to ground yourself, a way to keep from shattering under the emotions running wild in your mind, intensified with every thrust Jungkook drives into your core. So, you grip his wrists, not to stop him, but to urge him onâto make him pinch harder.
Maybe you need the bite of it, maybe you want him to not just take away the ache, but be the reason you remember this night years from now.
âJungkook, Iâm so close, oh my god.â
The grunt that escapes him reverberates through you, nearly pushing you over the edge on its own, but he slows, setting a gentler pace as he shifts so his mouth can worship you from your breasts to your neck, leaving a trail of hickeys across your delicate skin.
You know the two of you will be marked by the end of the night, and right now, thatâs all you want. You want to leave yourself etched into his skin, to reclaim your place not only in his heart but in every part of him.
In this moment, itâs like youâre finally wholeânot just because Jungkook fills you completely, but because he completes you. He always has, and while youâve both been damned by what happened before, it feels like redemption might be close.
âYouâreâŠâ Jungkook murmurs against your skin, his warm breath searing into you, though you need him to finish his sentence, need to hear it.
But as you cradle his head in your hands and he lifts his gaze to meet yours, his eyes are hooded, yet glistening, and your throat tightens at the sight too.
Face to face, you share the same breath, as if you share one heart, your small hands gripping his face as if you never want to let go, his hands cradling your small head with the tenderness that once meant everything. Itâs as though you feel what heâs trying to sayâbut somehow, you donât.
Thereâs still a wall between you, still something unsaid screaming in the silence that just canât seem to go away, and youâre sure he feels it too. He feels it as your orgasm builds, feels it in the desperation of his own thrusts, in the matching, agonising, wordless ache in both your eyes, feels it when you both shatter together in a burst of all colours and stars in existence.Â
And then, all thatâs left is pain.
He hasnât kissed you, and you didnât kiss him either.
And as he pulls his now-softening length from your still-pulsing cunt and reaches for a tissue from his trousers off the floor to help you clean up, he silently gets dressed.Â
Dresses as if heâs ashamed, dressed as if he regrets it, dressed as if youâre the worst thing thatâs ever happened to him.
So you do the same, slipping into your clothes before lying back down, shifting as close to the wall as possible, facing away from him to give him some peace where none is found.Â
The tears falling silently onto the pillow should only be from the shivering thatâs returned, a byproduct of the cold that momentarily disappeared but is now back as if you were never meant to feel warm again.
Finally, exhaustion sweeps over you. Physically. Mentally. And everything in between.Â
And as Jungkook lies down too, once more pulling you close and wrapping you in the warmth you crave more than you can bear to admit, your eyes fall shut almost effortlessly.
Maybe sleeping it all away will make it better, forgotten as a dream that never was.
Forgotten, like everything good that once was but now isnât anymore.
Forgotten, like the tear you feel slide down the back of your neck, disappearing into the fabric of your shirt where all your sins and failures lie buried.
01 âą 02 âą masterlist âą 04
a/n 3: lmk what you think in any way you like! đ If you liked what you read, pls consider buying me a âïž Ko-fi.com/runariya đ
Like what you read? Check out my other work here!
All Rights Reserved © @/runariya 2024
taglist: @kookiewithluv , @closer-to-jungkook , @dreamcatcherluvr , @runariyaluvr, @blueofocean, @leah-rose03 , @httpjeonlicious , @futuristicenemychaos , @cryingoverpixelsetc , @variety-is-the-joy-of-life , @kawaiiisstuff , @delusionalsnack , @jaykay-world , @kookie-vuitton , @https-mei, @daisies-and-dandelionpuffs , @avawants2havefun , @kawaiiisstuff, @ancagab16 , @lovingkoalaface , @lachimolalajeon , @jkslvsnella , @asimuss7 , @elinaki92 , @minghaosimp, @whoa-jo , @jaytheatiny , @winterbeartaehyungbestboy, @xsyruhh, @joonlover1207 , @elinaki92 , @junecat18 , @remgeolli , @kooloveys , @nemelkawar
#fic: CCL#bts fanfic#bts imagines#bts army#bts jungkook#jeon jungkook#jungkook x reader#jungkook fanfic#jungkook x you#jungkook imagine#jjk x reader#romcom#Jungkook smut#bts smut#Jungkook fluff#bts fluff#jungkook bts#jungkook romance#Jungkook romcom#jungkook#crack fic#kim namjoon#namjoon#bts namjoon#bts kim seokjin#kim seokjin#bts min yoongi#min yoongi#park jimin#bts park jimin
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They Unknowingly Bring Up and Insecurity| Seungmin Pt2
Pt1 Pt3
Seungmin sat in the living room with the guys while you were in the kitchen with Lee Know preparing something for your guy's weekly hangout. You all decided on playing monopoly together, with you and Seungmin partnering up.
Bangchan carefully set up the board while Felix was handing out the money.
"Seungmin hyung." Jeongin asked as he handed his elder the thimble to him.
"Is Y/N okay? She's been really quiet. She won't even talk to me." Jeongin's face was droopy as he stuck his lip out. "I was wondering if she was upset about something?"
Seungmin took a breath and spoke quietly. His voice soft and rather sad.
"I think I said something that hurt her feelings really bad." His voice was starting to wobble a bit, and that told Jeongin all he needed to know.
"Did you say sorry?"
Seungmin nodded and his cheeks puffed out slightly as he pouted. "She said she was okay but I don't believe her."
Jeongin grabbed the hat and messed with it. "Well, what did you say to her?" He inquired.
Seungmin pulled out his phone and scrolled up to his texts with you. Which it didn't take long for him to scroll up because you hadn't been texting him as often. He only heard from you for important or urgent things, and he was missing the little random blurbs of somewhat unnecessary - but entirely endearing - information about what you were doing.
He handed his phone to Jeongin and the maknae quickly read it through.
"Hyung, you know why Y/N and her last boyfriend broke up right...?"
Seungmin shook his head and Jeongin opened his mouth to speak but you walked in with Minho with a tray of snacks.
"Did Minho teach you how to make something new?" Chan asked you. Seungmin could tell the rest of the guys had picked up on your odd silence, but you nodded.
"Kinda...he taught me how to set a charcuterie board. It's pretty."
You set it down and Jisung immediately went to go grab something.
"MMM Y/N THIS IS SO GOOD!!" He popped a piece of cheese into his mouth and his cheeks puffed up. "You need to teach me now!!"
The effort Jisung had given to get you to respond was in vain.
"Jiji, I just grabbed the cheese from a package..."
The wide eyed quokka boy scratched his neck. "Oh um. Its still good though."
Throughout the first thirty minutes of you guys playing, minimal conversation was made and Seungmin was feeling antsy.
He missed your voice.
When you stood up to go to the bathroom and go restock the snack supply all the guys turned to you.
"Seungmin apologize. I miss my baby girl..." Jisung whined.
Seungmin deadpanned and Jisung frowned. "What she was my baby girl before she became your baby girl..."
"I don't know how I'm supposed to fix it! I don't know what I did wrong really..."
"Hyung, her boyfriend broke up with her because of her tendency to overshare...and you know...talk a lot."
Seungmin's puppy eyes narrowed as his eyebrows furrowed. "What?"
"It was a stupid reason to break up really. She only told me because one time she was feeling insecure when we were hanging out and some lady told me that 'my girlfriend talked a lot'; which I told her that I wasn't dating her but also that it didn't matter because I talk a lot too." Jeongin frowned.
Seungmin blinked a few times and bit his bottom lip.
"I don't think she's upset at you Seungmin..." Changbin spoke. "From what I see it seems like she's trying not to be a burden."
"Burden?"
"She doesn't want you to break up with her so she's trying to change that aspect about herself. You're naturally a quiet person and she probably thinks she's too much for you and that you'll get tired of it."
Seungmin shook his head. "No! I could never get tired of Y/N-ie!"
Chan chuckled. "You guys really are perfect for each other." He says, marveling in his work. "But...tone doesn't translate over text."
"And you're a sarcastic motherfucker." Minho adds.
Hyunjin stretches across the floor. "You can say that again."
Jisung huffs. "Well go on and apologize! Because I want my gossip buddy back! She never finished telling me about the drama on her mom's side of the family! I was invested in which side piece got her cousin pregnant!"
Hyunjin shoots up, sniffing the drama. "Ya! Seungmin fix it! I want to know now too!"
Seungmin looked down at the board as he contemplated just how he could fix this.
Because sometimes words weren't the cure.
But actions were.
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Sorry for the short work đ« . But in all the drafts of my 3 part angst series (oops theres more?) the 2nd part tends to be shorter since its the down hill of the plot.
#stray kids reactions#skz angst#skz x reader#skz imagines#skz seungmin#skz reactions#skz stay#stray kids
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zhongrin © 2024 ℠do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or feed into ai.
tail of a dragon.
featuring... â„ zhongli
involves... â„ minors dni, gn!reader, dragon!li, fluff, crack, monsterfucking(?), cannibalism innuendos(??), rambles/headcanon -> short drabble format
at first, i thought zhongli's echo doesn't show up when it's raining (i was in the middle of fighting the oceanid boss). and it made me think; what if his dragon side absolutely abhor rainwater? he's still always a gentleman, of course ăŒ giving you his coat to use as an umbrella upon unexpected downpours; but it's funny to think that inwardly he's just silently screeching something along the line of "curse the rainwater in my shoes curse the rainwater in my hair this does not bring joy at all" within the confines of his lizard brain. he will most definitely make excuses of being cold from the rain and insists on bathing together afterward, too. you may think he's trying to seduce you, but in reality, this old dragon just wants the icky cold rainwater out of his hair.
and then, i noticed that i was wrong ăŒ it gets hidden when any sort of combat happens (i'm not sure if this is an iOS-only decision to conserve resources so that processing power for particle effects can be allocated to the fight's particle effects, or if it's a design decision because they don't want it to interfere with the battle experience).
and i've decided i shall think of it as a zhongli equivalent of men cracking their neck before they get serious. it's not exactly his real tail, after all - he's consciously controlling it, all because you wished he would show his draconic features more often, but he can't really have his horns or tail out in public. hence its disappearance whenever he has to focus that consciousness into something else.
this also means the shiny golden apparition would be nowhere to be found whenever he's intent on pleasuring you... but, perhaps if you rile him enough, you'll be subjected to a very solid dragon's tail, as majestic and mesmerizing as it is deadly, wrapped around your waist as he devours his favorite meal and milk your pleasure until you're all loose for his cocks to sink into the soaked depths of your needy heat.
even though your husband might seem to be all in control and composed, all gentle smiles and the occasional mischief-filled smirks, his tail is another story entirely - the man may not know of the phrase 'cuteness aggression', but he may as well be the personification of it. his mind constantly think about how adorable you are, soft and squishy and mouthwateringly delectable, constantly warring with his own mind over wanting to sink his teeth and nibble your pliant flesh. it lashes, it slithers, it squeezes, and it's unashamedly honest in its unrestrained movements, reflective of his desires in its rawest form. it'll make sure its hard scales imprints on your skin - a unique mark to accompany the mating bite he'll generously lap and suckle on. you're akin to a sweet treat he wants to lick and nip and scratch and devour. lucky for you, his patience and self-control has been tempered and honed for more than six thousand years.
and if your mind decides to conjure any sinful fantasies involving that extra appendage of his, why not tell him? who knows, perhaps you'll arouse a certain part of his draconic brain. your husband is a good listener, but he's also an achiever, after all.
#minors dni#genshin x reader#genshin smut#zhongli x reader#zhongli#rin writes#i wrote this when i was feeling soft and then continued it when i was ovulating. yall can probably tell. no one look at me.....#also i understand that other characters' echo probably behaves similarly. but that is not the point so don't @ me lol
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It's Okay to Play Favorites (Vice Housewardens)
Intro: You accidentally get sucked into the world of Twisted Wonderland, your favorite game, like, ever. And uh, you may or may not have teleported with a plushie of your favorite characterâŠ
Warnings: bad writing, awful grammar, not proofread, self aware au but not god, your card collection is just you being freaky and taking pictures of them, google translated French be warned, orthoâs is platonic and if u take it any other way i ban u, liliaâs is also platonic but if u see romance crumbs i won't stop u, ik ruggie and ortho aren't vice housewardens but get this idgaf
A/N: Bro college got me fucked (second day in i know i'm a fucking whiner i hate it all). Not a request, just some random stuff I wrote during my 3 hour round-trip commute jfc. If my Jade favoritism is acting up, no it ain't.
Masterlist
Trey Clover is a man often overlooked, whether in the fandom or the world of Twisted Wonderland.
So when you get transported in during orientation, you, the player, were holding a plush form of him?
He blanks out.
Sorry Riddle, your vice housewarden kinda crashed maybe you can reboot him or something.
Treyâs never thought of himself as anything special, but he must be if heâs your favorite character, right?
You befriend him with a giddy smile, he can almost see the hearts in your eyes as you fan[redacted] so hard you actually hug him in your excitement.
The player? Hugged? Him?????
âCrazy bro thatâs like super nuts so jealous of you.â - Cater Diamond
Hm, he gets a bit bashful when you take so many pictures of him.
Do you really like him that much?
HeâŠlikes you too.
âCringe.â - Cater Diamond
Iâm just a normal person, you know? At least, the closest someone can get to normal in this place. You still want me? Are you sure?
âŠOkay.
If youâre sure.
Unfortunately, to date a dad is to put up with dad jokes.
Do you mind though?
Makes you the most delicious pastries and confectionery known to mankind. Youâll probably get 5 lbs fatter and a sugar addiction.
But your teeth will be beautiful because he teaches you how to brush your teeth properly.
(Ten kinds of toothbrushesâŠ)
Picnic dates.
Tea party dates.
Baking dates.
You might need to go on a diet to stay in shape because Trey doesnât mind fat. He will probably love you more if youâre chubby.
But he loves you regardless.
Rest of the cast is like, vaguely jealous because why Trey?
But also he has a generally good rapport with other people so itâs cool.
Maybe.
Ruggie Bucchi wasnât really paying too much attention at the ceremony but you definitely drew his focus.
Is that a plushie hyena beastman?
Does not register that itâs him until someone calls it out.
What? Why? How? When? Where?
He probably has major self esteem issues because, you know, the schoolâs filled to the brim with rich kids and people with status.
He has neither money nor power. So when he finds out heâs your favorite character? Boom.
He lets out his cute (im not biased) laugh but itâs because he doesnât know how else to react.
You want to be his friend? Why not?
(Laughs again because heâs exploding on the inside)
You hug him???? Crazy. You owe him a donut for that, bro.
Thinks the picture thing is a bit weird but who is he to argue with the player?
Youâre weird, yâknow? Thereâs like princes and moguls and stuff in NRC, why me?
You like me? You find me charming?
Thatâs not something Iâd really use for myself but heyâŠknock yourself out. Shishishi.
Floof.
You get to scratch his ears and kiss âem and watch âem twitch while he tries to get away from you.
Insane bro wish I was you.
Cuddly and surprisingly clingy, loves loves loves being pampered.
Are you indoctrinated by my subby Ruggie vibes yet???
His love language is sharing food.
(Have you ever tried passing candy through a kiss? No? Wanna try?)
His grandma will love you <3
The other characters will be giving him major stink eye. The scrappy hyena? Really?
Yes really.
âWhatever, good for you.â - Leona probably.
Jade Leech is amused.
Rather childish, is it not? Well, heâs flattered that you think so highly of him and even have this stuffed toy in his image.
Unfortunately, he does hold enough respect for you as the player to not immediately use your infatuation with him for nefarious purposes.
Not to say he doesnât tease you though.
You are the flustered one here.
Heâs your favorite? Oya, how interesting. Heâs never seen himself the way that you do, but who is he to argue with the player?
Please, what do you like so much about him? Do tell.
(His systems crash when you hug him but youâll never know)
You seem to enjoy taking his pictures. If you let him [redacted] you can take as many as you want.
If you donât take him up on his offer I will!!!
My, I never expected to be your âfavorite characterâ, was it? Well, I donât mind.
What do I think of you?
Fufu, wouldnât you like to know?
Loving a sadist means youâre probably a masochist.
You like it when he âunintentionallyâ makes you do something stupid? Toys with you? Teases you with his annoyingly adorable super cutie pie grin?
Bro you have weird taste I could like, never~
If you didnât like mushrooms before you do now.
You wish heâd look at you the way he looks at his terrariums.
You know that silly, happy, dopey little look he gets? The lab coat groovy one? Yeah.
Hiking dates if youâre physically able to. If not, he makes like the fanciest dinner dates ever.
He does love you, promise.
The other characters are highkey judging you.
Jamil Viper is inside his hoodie and is very unlikely to ever come out.
Youâre kinda embarrassing but what is he supposed to do?
Youâre the player. You have a plushie Jamil. Tiny and cute.
Jamil doesnât see himself as cute. Wouldnât it be better if you had a different one? Someone sunnier, someone warmer, someone likeâŠKalim?
Jamilâs your favorite character?
Yeah heâs not leaving his hoodie.
When youâre so happy and excited that you hug him, his soul leaves his body through his lips.
Rip Jamil Viper.
I donât think Jamilâs very used to the camera, considering heâs technically Kalimâs servant and servants stay in the background.
But since you adore him the way that you do, well, he wonât stop you.
Youâre strange. Is this a prank?
No, I donât mean to doubt you. Itâs just thatâŠ
No, nevermind. Since you want me, Iâllâlove? You love me? Fine, I can work with that too.
His favorite kind of date is one where you two sleep and cuddle together.
He needs a break.
Itâs not too often that he can carve time out of babysitting, so any time spent with him youâll cherish like gold.
You can help him with chores if you manage to persist through multiple rejections.
Heâd really prefer not to make the player do chores with him, but when you smile so wide like that, he canât refuse anymore on the grounds of you not enjoying it.
Kalim can lend you guys the carpet though, you wanna fly?
While the cast doesnât generally approve of the snake, youâre very loud about your infatuation.
They canât stop you.
Rook Hunt is a lover of beauty, and you, the player, are the most beauté of all! (full points :D)
Qu'est-ce que c'est? A soft and fluffy copy of himself? How wonderous! Marvelous! The adorable cotton-filled blah blah blah (insert soliloquy here)
While thereâs a tiny thought in his mind that perhaps the poison apple or the queen would be more befitting of a nui plush, he still takes your fascination with him in stride.
(Itâs not often that heâs in this role.)
To be your favorite, it is an honor!
He shall dedicate a poem to your inner and outer beauty!
Accidentally tosses you to the ground when you try to hug him.
Desolé, instinct. Try again?
Heâs not used to being the one in the spotlight, but please, take as many pictures as you need!
Love? Love is the most beautiful indeed. Comme toi, tellement adorable. Lovely.
Youâre asking if I have someone I love?
Je suis un lĂąche de ne pas exprimer mon amour pour toi.Â
Either you get what heâs saying or you remember it so you can translate later.
Anyway, have you ever wanted to hunt for sport as a date?
No?
How about getting hunted for sport?
Still no? Shame.
Rook settles for little camping trips in the woods, just you and him and the forest (and his bow and quiver of arrows and his hunting knife and his dagger andâ).
He makes very good roasted meat.
Youâll enjoy it as long as you remember not to ask where itâs from.
Uh, ignore how every other cast member is judging you. Love is love, right?
Ortho Shroud is very happy! Very excited! Yay!
Youâre a legendary figure, and youâre treating him so nicely!Â
Is that a toy made to look like him? You like Ortho? Heâs your favorite character?
Yay!
Robo baby is very happy.
Since you like Ortho, do you like Idia too?
Can you be Idiaâs friend?
Can you be a new older sibling? Please?
(Say yes or I will [redacted])
Hugs? Hugs!
Forehead kisses?
Yes!
You seem to enjoy taking many pictures of Ortho. Why is this? You like him that much?
If so, maybe you two should take pictures together instead of always taking pictures of him alone. Heâd love to take lots of pictures with you!
Can Idia come?
I am your favorite character? Like in a video game? This world is also a video game?
Thatâs great!
What kind of character am I?
Lilia Vanrouge thinks youâre funny. But also totally correct.
He must be sinful because even you, dear player, find him absolutely adorable!
HeheheâŠ
Is that a tiny Lilia? Good taste! Itâs almost as adorable as the real one.
When you hug him in your excitement, he just laughs and pats your back.
Grandpa vibes.
A picture? Why not?
A selfie, as you kids say. (bro youâre not even detached from modern technology???)
Really likes taking pictures with you.
Since you like him a lot and heâs your favorite character, be a dear and forgo your sleep schedule to game with him.
Iâm your favorite, right? Surely that means youâd love to taste my cooking?
No? Why, Iâm saddened by your rejectionâŠ
There we go. Itâs not so bad, is it? I made it with effort, onions, garlicâŠare you alright? Oh dear.
#disney twisted wonderland#disney twst#twisted wonderland#gender neutral reader#twst x reader#x reader#trey clover x reader#trey x reader#trey clover#ruggie bucchi x reader#ruggie x reader#ruggie bucchi#jade leech x reader#jamil x reader#jade x reader#jade leech#jamil viper x reader#jamil viper#rook hunt x reader#rook hunt#rook x reader#ortho shroud#lilia vanrouge
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Hi, I wanted to request something platonic with Percy, with him meeting his older half-sister after he finds out he's the son of Poseidon.
Sorry for my English, I'm using the translator to write, and sorry if you don't understand my request
Pictures On The Wall
Percy jackson x older!sister (platonic)
-ÂŁ this was the first thing that came to mind and itâs such a cute idea! thank you.
-ÂŁ words: 700
-ÂŁ warnings: short, nervous percy, cool reader, sassy and kinda grunge reader, siblings bonding, fluff.
the wall across from his bed was covered with many things. pictures of people he didnât know along with a bed half made and clothes piled up. âthatâs y/nâsâ a name he never heard but yet was family. his half sister was somewhere on a quest and didnât know that he was snooping round her things.
he looked at the pictures all the time, liking the smile you had. he knew that smile, a distinct memory in his mind but you wore it with pride. you looked so cool and by all the stories he heard you were one of the most awesome person at camp.
every cabin knew you, it was like he needed to fill some sort of shoe now that you walked in but he didnât know the first thing.
âpercy,â grover peaked into the cabin and looked around for his best friend, when he found him he looked nervous. âI think you should come.â percy jumped up at the sound of his voice that sounded like something horrible had happened.
percy walked along his friend while his heart raced, âwhat happened?â had another monster attacked the camp, what could have happened that he had to come.
âsheâs back.â Grover muttered while sighing, âAnd we thought you should meet her.â oh,- oh gods. you were back so soon? he didnât have a clue on what he would say or do. would you like him, would you hate him and somehow kick him out of the cabin? heâs never had a sibling before.
âsheâs getting patched up and Iâll warn you,â Grover patted his shoulder with a kind smile, âsheâs unpredictable at times.â Yeah, that makes me feel much better Percy thought.
as soon as the walked into the infirmary ïżŒall they could hear was yelling and arguing making the young boys look at each other. they walked to the door and saw the girl on the bed glare at the other around her age.
he knew you. the picture he looked at every day you seemed to be exactly like that, but you didnât look happy like all of them. the shirt you wore had rips in it and a bloody bandage wrapped around your arm. the redhead girl in front of you held a spoon up to your mouth but you kept fighter her off.
âIâm fine! Itâs just a few scratches, Iâm not a child!â it was ironic that you looked like a bratty child that wanted to stomp their feet. your lips pouted slightly. percy didnât know what to think at the scene.
âtake it. youâre just keeping yourself from leaving, so do it so I can leave!â the other girl seemed to knock some sense into you as you huffed and took the spoon in your mouth. if looks could kill then she would be on the ground by now, you looked so angry.
humming the redhead walked out of the door and looked at the boys before rolling her eyes and kept going down the hallway. you didnât seemed to notice them as you started to take off the dirty bandages.
Grover was the first to speak, âexcuse me,â you looked at him quickly but your eyes were now soft and no longer sharp. âGrover, come in!â you invited him over but your eyes soon fell on the boy next to him. and immediately the connection between the two of you went off in your head.
âyou must be percy?â
he shifted closer and awkwardly not knowing want to do, âyeah. how do you know?â
âI received letters telling me of the idiot brother I seemed to have,â you chuckle and throw the dirty cloths in your hands on the bed. The cut was gone but dry blood still stayed on your skin, âyou have dads eyes.â You pointed to your own.
âreally?â he asked quietly as you hopped on the floor and stretched. âOh yeah, less disappointment in them but Iâll give it time.â
you yawned and picked up the black jacket and your backpack, âIâm starving,â you stood between the two of them and then swung your arms around the two of them.
âNow, tell me what you did to Clarisse!â You smirk at the brother you just met, âmy favorite sibling already.â
#pjo x reader#percy jackson x you#percy jackson imagine#percy jackson x reader#platonic percy jackson#platonic percy jackson x reader#platonic x reader#fluff#brother!percy jackson
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ౚৠâ§Ë
đđ„ đđ«đđđš (đđĄđ đđđđ„) â đđ«đđ§đŹđ„đđđđ đŠđđŹđŹ
miguel oâhara x fem!reader. 3.2k words
fic masterlist previous part pt seven next part
angst but kinda fluffy? straight after; mention of past violence (minor) â you wanted to know what those spanish sentences miguel made you say meant, him having kept that to himself. and when you do, having scouted miles, youâre leftâŠwellâŠshocked. your friends are also left shocked wondering who asked you to say those things. when you go to question miguel about it you find him in a state youâve never seen him in before.
You had desperately wanted to translate the Spanish Miguel had chosen not to tell you. So much so, that you had began to scout HQ for a Spanish native speaker. You were too prideful to use your phone for translation, plus Miguel said nothing on not asking someone.
You remember Miles saying his mum was Hispanic. Even if his Spanish wasnât top notch youâre sure heâll understand at least a few words. Understand the sentences Miguel made you say.
You spot Pav talking with some other spider variants, using large hand gestures. "Pav!" You call, walking up to him.
He shifts his gaze to you, a smile soon following. âY/n. How are you?â
You smile. âGoodâŠyeah, no Iâm good. I was just wondering if you knew where Miles was?â
âOh.â He spins. âI swear I saw him over there.â He points in a random direction. ââŠnow heâs gone. Maybe with Gwen.â He nudges you, raising his brows. You chuckle, understanding the meaning of those raised brows.
âWell, this will only take a moment. I just need translation for something.â
âTranslation? To what language?â Pav asks.
âFrom Spanish to English. And I heard Miles knows a bit.â
âAhâŠwait, but doesnât Miguel fully speak it?â Pav pauses. âYeah, heâd know a lot more than Miles.â
You nod. âHe just wonât tell me.â You mutter under your breath.
âWhat was that?â Pav asks, brows furrowed.
You look back up. âMiguelâs just kind of busy right now.â You had no idea if he was or not. âAnd so I thought Miles might be free.â
âI see.â Pav nods. âCome on, Iâll help you find him.â Pav begins to head down one of the paths in the communal area where bunches of spider variants sat and stood talking.
âMiles!â Pav called out to nowhere in particular. âMiles!?â
âIs yelling his name really gonna help?â Your brows furrow.
âI like to think yelling will conjure up the whole âspider-senseâ thing.â Pav says, still gazing around. âWait, maybe I need to sound more in distress.â
You chuckle, looking around. And thatâs when you spot Miles and Gwen. âMiles!â You walk over with a smile. Pav is hot on your heels.
Miles turns, and copies your smile. âY/n, hey.â
âOkay look, Iâm sorry to ask this but can you translate something for me?â You ask, hopeful.
Miles tilts his head slightly. âYeah, sure. As long as it isnât French, or Dutch, or Russian. Or practically any language I donât know.â
Your smile widens. âNo, no. None of those. Itâs just Spanish.â
âOh.â Miles stands straighter. âIâll warn you I donât know a heck of amount. But I can give it go.â
âThank you.â You grow more excited in way. All of last night you had been thinking about what you had said, really trying not to just roll over and grab your phone.
âOkay, so itâs two sentences.â You begin. Miles nods. âThe first one isâŠâMe encantarĂa usarâŠtu cama para otrasâŠcosasâ.â You say it somewhat slowly, making sure you got it right.
When you look back to Miles, heâs staring at you blinking. You stare back. âWhat?â You ask.
âUm.â He scratches the back of his head. âIâm probably hearing it wrong.â He mutters to himself before heâs looking back to an expectant you.
âWhat was the second one?â He asks, a little more curious this time.
âUhâŠâÂżNo crees queâŠme verĂa bonita atrapada entreâŠtus sĂĄbanas?ââ
Now miles is staring at you. You eye him, brows furrowed. âWhat does it mean?â
He coughs. âWho said that to you?â
âOh, no I said it to someone.â You answer. âWell, they asked me to say itâŠâ
âYou said it someoneâŠâ he drifts off, slightly gulping.
âWhat? Is itâŠbad?â Your brows are further furrowed. âCome on, Miles, please. Iâve been dying to know what it means all of last night.â
âWell, the first oneâŠit means âIâd love to use your bed for other thingsâ.â He mutters it out extremely quickly. That you think you donât catch it right.
âWhat?â
âAnd the second one means âdonât you think Iâd look pretty trapped in your sheets?â.â Milesâ has looked away, scratching the back of his neck again, clearly a fraction flustered.
This time youâre staring at him, or more so through him. Then you blink. âWhat?â You repeat stupidly. That canât be right. Why did miguel ask you to say something about his bedâŠ
Now you werenât dumb you were justâŠin shock. Because how does that make sense. And as the words settle in your mind a little more, you begin to feel the familiar burn in your stomach.
Recently your skin had begun to feel hot. In specific scenarios, around a specific someone. Every moment that he had touched you in some way you had either been injured, or fainting, so you hadnât realised the reactions in the moment. But now, having your mind clear and your body healthy enough your skin grows prickly.
Then there was the touches on your chinâŠ
At first you thought that they were a form of showing his superiority. It seemed like something heâd do. But when you really thought about it, you realised that he wasnât grabbing Peterâs face like that, he wasnât leaning over a chair that Gwen was sitting at.
Now youâve grown hot. And your cheeks are probably bright red, considering how Pav is eyeing you. âUm.â You nod. You donât know why youâre nodding. You just need to do something that isnât stare off into space.
âWho, um, asked you to say that?â Gwen asks.
You shift your gaze to her, still slightly stuck in your own head. You felt the urge to fan yourself, but realised how implicating that would seem. Miguel got you to say that stuff? That seemed to be a repeating question in your head.
âOh, uh, nobody.â You didnât really want to tell them that it was Miguel. You felt it would put pressure on something that you were sure wasnât even something. It wasnâtâŠright?
But now as you quickly thank miles and skim past them, your mind is whirring. Did MiguelâŠ? You press your lips together at the thought, unbuttoning the first button of your dress shirt. You were sure you were reading into it. ThoughâŠpart of you was actually hoping the underlying meaning you were thinking of was the truth.
You were even slightly shocked at yourself at this revelation. Itâs as if it had always been on the tip of your tongue. Not falling off because Miguel is wellâŠMiguel.
;;
âWhat was that about?â Pav asks, watching your leaving form. Gwen watches you go as well, eyes narrowing in her own inspection.
Miles was still going over the sentences in his head, really double checking he got them right. âYeahâŠnah, thatâs right.â He mutters. âMy translations right.â
âWho asked herââ
âAsked who what?â Hobie appeared, clearly just back from a mission, as he leaned against Miles, resting his arm on his shoulder.
âY/n.â Gwen says. âShe asked Miles to translate something for her.â
âSee, I knew this guy would be helpful.â Hobie slightly shakes Milesâ shoulders.
âI think someone has a crush on y/n.â Pav says, making Hobie shift his gaze to him.
âWho?â Miles asks, suddenly interested in the small ordeal.
Pav shrugs, but Hobie shakes his head, scoffing. Pav hadnât seen you and Miguel interact a hell of a lot. Gwen didnât pay that much attention to peopleâs gazes, and Miles was wellâŠnew. So, maybe Hobie could give them a break, but he still couldnât believe how oblivious they were.
Hobie began to figure out Miguelâs little crush on you when Miguel had called him in for a last minute mission that Miguel could have easily done himself. He hadnât needed Hobie.
And when Miguelâs jaw clenched at the mention of how he was supposed to be hanging out with you, Hobie began to clock on.
âCome on, you lot.â Hobie says staring at them. âTell me, who speaks Spanish here? Fluently?â
Gwen looks down, thinking. âMiguel.â
Hobie nods. âUh huh.â He presses, seeing their slightly furrowed brows. âOh bloody hell, you lot are thick.â
âOhâŠâ Pav mutters. âOh!â He realises, and Hobie gestures to him, sighing in relief.
âThank anarchy.â He mutters, thankful one person caught on.
âMiguel likes y/n?!â Pav practically exclaims, earning a few side glances from other spider variants.
âItâd seem so.â Hobie smirks.
;;
Later that evening, you stood, not meaning to feel as flushed as you were. Standing in front of Miguel's bedroom door, you felt hot, your breathing quickening. After having found out what he got you to sayâand having gone through the stages of confusion, denial and then shockâyou've arrived back to sweaty palms.
You take a breath, knocking, but instead of the solid feel of the door, your hand falls through, the door having been cracked open a fractionâyour nervous state must have forced you not to notice. It swings wider and your breath hitches.
Miguel's room is a mess, and not just his bed this time. Things are smashed, and his chair is thrown, lying lifeless on the floor. You then shift your gaze up to a heaving Miguel. He finally notices your presence, meeting your wide eyes.
Miguel had always been someone who was controlled. Sure, he got agitated easy, and clearly had some anger issues to deal with, but 'messy' was never a word you associated with him. And here he was hair ruffled, wet from the outside rain, and covering part of his eyes. His chest heaved to a mismatched beat, as his nose twitched in a snarl, his fangs very visible in the dim light. He looked like the definition of âa messâ.
"What are you doing here?" His low tone breaks you from your silent stance, your lips coming closed to rub against each other in...thought? You weren't entirely sure.
You gulp. "Did something...happen?" You scan his body for injuries, but find none. You glance at his open window. "Did you go on a mission?"
"Did you need something?" Miguel doesn't mean for his tone to come out so harshly. And watching your face twitch a fraction made him grind his teeth in annoyance at himself.
"I was going to ask you something, but..." Now you weren't so sure that this moment was the right one.
Miguel gulps, turning slightly away from you. "If you have nothing to sayâŠgo."
Yes, Miguel was acting clip and rude with you. And yes...maybe he did turn away so he wouldn't see your expressions. But then he hears your steps slowly draw closer. He shifts his gaze back to you.
Right now was the worst time to see you, he didn't want you to see him, he wanted you to go.
"I thought you had nothing to say?" Miguel briskly asks, but you caught the slight crack in his harsh tone. A crack that displayed a mix of emotionsâstress, anxiety,...fear?
Before you know it you're moving closer, your feet, the rain and his breathing filling the other wise silent room. "Now's not a good time." His tone cracked even more. This time with anger.
You stop, a decent distance away. And maybe you should leave, leave him to this. But what is this? You voice that. "What is this?" 'This' as in the mess. 'This' as in Miguel's body language. He looked like he was not even a minute away from exploding.
"Are you...okay?"
Part of Miguel's facade broke at that. "I'm perfectly fine. Do I not look it?" He spits this, fully turning to you. Some droplets of water, that had drenched his hair slides down his cheek.
You know not to be taken aback by Miguel's words. But you'd never seen the word 'crazed' written in his eyes before...'frantic'. "No...you don't look it." You say, eyeing him. "You look...you don't look like yourself."
Miguel mockingly nods, his tongue dragging across one of his fangs, and actually drawing blood. "Right." He forcibly chuckles. "I forgot, I'm supposed to look...what? Composed? On task? In control?" He's stepped closer to you, each word coming out like a snarl.
"Not everything stays the same." Miguel is saying. "Not everything goes the way we plan." He grits out 'plan' like he despises the word altogether.
And as you glance from his hair to the window, to then his too clean of a suit, you realise something. It wasn't a mission, but he had gone somewhere.
"Miguel, where did you go?"
"I didn't go anywhere." He scoffs out.
"Yes you did." You say, narrowing your eyes in thought. And maybe now would be a good time to leave, leave him be. But of course you wouldn't, 'worry' now tieing you up tight. Then you pause. "Why are talking about things that don't go to plan? What hasn't gone to plan?"
"You know, you can be real nosy sometimes." Miguel wanted to punch himself. Why did he say that? You had never been nosy, only observant. Maybe too much for your own good, but it was surely a talent of yours. And here he was shaming you.
But in this moment you weren't fazed. Something was wrong. "Miguel, you've clearly just come in here angry. You're hair's wet from the rain, so obviously recently. Your room is a mess. It's never a mess. You're...never a mess."
"Oh, plenty of things can become a mess, y/n."
"Yeah, but never you. Sure, you've gotten angry before, but you've never trashed a room. There's glass on the floor...you broke that mirror." You gesture to the one hanging on the wall, a prominent fist imbedded in the middle.
"Don't tell me you're gonna deduce where I've fucking been by the glass?!" He was yelling. Not at you. Never at you. At himself. But he's always been very good at projecting. Especially when you're around.
"No." You breathe. "I'm asking you." You say, letting a hint of your concern shine through. You were concerned. Very concerned. Maybe Miguel would have noticed your concern, if he wasn't slowly loosing it. If the messed up room wasn't enough of a tell, he's hit his peak.
"What happened?" You ask again, and this time you finally get a response.
"I fucked up, okay?!" He exclaims, his heart pounding a mile a minute. "I can't take it back. And I've tried. I've really tried. But you know what? Maybe this is meant to happen. Maybe I'm meant to screw everything up."
You stare at him. "What are you talking about?"
"I..." Miguel drifts off, fisting his already disheveled hair. "I let them take it..." Hs voice has softened. But not to a nice kind of softenedâa broken one.
You step a fraction closer. "Who? And take what?"
You can visibly see Miguel's strength ebbing away. He looks exhausted, and all in all done. Done with everything. You didn't like that look, you didn't like the inclination of it. "Miguel." You say slowly.
But he's going farther and farther back into his mind, getting tangled up in thoughts you could tell had begun to haunt him. Screwed up? What had he supposedly screwed up?
Then before your mind could work on overdrive, millions of questions wanting to surface, and before Miguel could step further back from reality, you stepped much, much closer, reaching up on your tip toes. And then you wrapped your arms around his neck...hugging him.
Miguel is frozen. Entirely frozen. His mind stops trying to murder him and the drowning sounds in his ears fade away. Now he can hear your breathing, a nervous beat clear. He doesnât know what to do. He doesnât know if he should do what heâs thinking.
But then youâre slowly drawing back, arms leaving his body. And he canât have that. He swiftly wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you back to him, as his hands clench around your shirt.
Your breathing hitches as Miguelâs breath hits your collarbone, his head choosing to rest in the crook of your neck, his lips grazing part of your skin.
No. He had told himself he wouldnât think like that anymore. It was exhausting, and he was tired enough as is. His grip tightened around you. To all the doubtful voices in his head, he was using you to say âshut the hell upâ.
You could feel Miguelâs entire body practically slump against yours. And though your cheeks were red hot, and your heart was screaming you wrapped your arms back around his neck, your wrists meeting together by his hair.
For once Miguel heard silence. He had always had too many voices in his head telling him this and that. And that âthis was what has to be doneâ and that âno, you canât get distractedâ.
Now he felt a much relieving calmness engulfing him. You. His breathing slightly shuddered against your neck, the open of his mouth leading his fangs to lightly brush across your skin.
You shivered at this, earning Miguel to lean his head back. But he didnât let your waist go. You stopped those voices and heâd be damned if he let you step away from his body now.
Your breathes met, as did your gaze. You were close, the seeming millimetre making you seem even more so. You could feel Miguelâs fingers fiddle slowly with the back of your shirt, your front still pressed against his.
âIâmâŠâ You gulp, your voice coming out much shakier than you intended. âSorryâŠI probably shouldnât have hugged you.â You could practically taste his breath.
âYeahâŠyou probably shouldnât have.â His tone is breathy, sounding out of body, as his gaze flickers to your lips.
Theyâre dryâof course. And now at the close proximity licking them made you feel ten times hotter. You prayed he couldnât see your blushing cheeks.
âIâm sorry that I justâŠsorta came in.â You felt you had to fill in the silence. Miguel didnât seem to mind it though, cause it meant that he could listen to your voice. And replacing your voice with the oneâs in his head is probably the smartest choice he could ever make.
Well maybe the second smartest choice⊠He stared at your freshly wet lips, breathing harder. His thoughts had changed from âhow much more could he takeâ to âhow much moreâŠmoreâŠmoreâ. He wanted more. More of your closeness, this seemed to not be enough.
In response to his thoughts his hands glided up your back, making your body lean more against him. Chest to chest.
âA-and I probably shouldnât have assumed all that stuffâŠâ you breathe out, as Miguel tilts his head, looking down at you. Itâs safe to say your were flustered.
âI think you did alright.â He partially whispered.
âWellâŠyouâre not throwing a chair..so..â Stupid, stupid, stupidâyou think to yourself. âI meanâŠâ
And to your shock you notice his lips begin to curve up. And not just to stop at a certain point. No. His lips continued to widen until he was smiling. An actual, genuine smile, that oozed amusement, and it made him lookâŠhappy?
âCareful.â You say. âYou look like youâre expressing a âsparkly emotionâ.â
âOh no.â His grin doesnât fall, and it only makes your heart beat faster. âWe wouldnât want thatâŠwould we?â
You quickly shake your head, and Miguel presses his lips together with further amusement, his eyes darting. ââŠcute.â
You freeze. And Miguel seems to realise his small slip up, as his eyes grow a fraction wider. He had slipped up in English. Goddamn English. You understood.
But what he didnât know was that you understood a lot more than just that word. And as the reason for your arrival to his room came back to you, the simple word âcuteâ seemed to mean a whole lot, lot more.
Iâm sorry this oneâs kinda short, and not too much is going on. but I wanted them to have a close moment like this before theyâŠwellâŠyâknow.
at this point Iâve decided to do nine parts (it fits better) so next partâŠmhmâŠFINALLY we can get some closer HaPpIniNgS
plus next part im gonna go onto a deeper dive of where Miguel went and who the masked men are â i just needed a bit of tension filled fluff
taglist: @dangerousdreamkitty @ale-maral @inosukesweirdwife @flooftoof @cynicallyaestetic @silassinclair @mariiyoushi @ilovedilfjake @toastlover21 @wlellsl @k1rbbo @bitchotine @guacam011y @blnk338 @wolfiepirate @kurxxmi @corpsebridenightamare @ohantonia @yunonaneko @irenered-20 @z3r0art @sunflowercandie @perilous-pasta @gloriouskryptonitecrown @whyamistillhere78 @ritzzzsblog @mm1sta @tealcoloured-murder @aweebsimp101 @livelaughlaurv @s0dium @roguepancake @sunshiines-stuff @internal-soundtrack @oscarisdaddy69 @clairacassidy @captainquake42 @nanaloverz @ilyless @sindulgent666 @shine101 @thebadasssass @hibeejibees @nirishin @ily2lia @lillunna @cinnamoncattie @futuristicpandakid @maroonobserver @thatsopanu @edgyficuselastica @kittekat420 @stararctic @maxi-ride @renn-pumkin-head @scaraza @justanotherkpopstanlol @fauxizs @cloudsandrenoswife @ilmovor @larissa-lolll @elliemm @httpkiyoomi @j2warren @arquiiva @ilovemiguelohara @a-monster-can-filled-with-cum @fandom-gal44 @elwyn7 @albiebright
taglist #2 taglist #3 taglist #4 taglist #5 taglist #6 taglist #7
#the miguel effect#miguel oâhara x reader#miguel o'hara#miguel oâhara one shot#miguel x reader#miguel oâhara smut#miguel oâhara across the spider verse#miguel oâhara x y/n#miguel fucking oâhara#miguel spiderman#miguel oâhara x you#miguel oâhara#atsv miguel#atsv#spider man#spiderman atsv#across the spiderverse#across the spider verse#spiderman 2099#miguel oâhara fic#miguel oâhara fluff#miguel oâhara angst
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haiii if possible, could u do the bf! hcs + txts with izuku with someone who's personality is like ai from oshi no ko if not it's totally fine still tysm :3
HCS + TXTS WITH HIM AS YOUR BOYFRIEND âž» izuku midoriya
INCLUDES â gn! reader, fluff, crack, headcannons, social media au
main masterlist â mha masterlist àŒ*·Ë
: ÌÌâ click here to read other character versions
THE MOST SWEETEST BF EVER!!!!
will send you a good morning and night message everyday.
you know how he tends to ramble irl? he does the same thing on text! heâd just keep typing and typing and wouldnât even realize how lengthy the message has gotten until he sent it.
chronically online.
all that time spent on social media keeping up with all might updates slowly progressed to him knowing internet references and brain rot.
he wonât use it as much in his speech though. he tries to but overthinks it and ends up going against it, scared that he may have gotten the meaning wrong.
he enjoys spending time with you, just him and you on a cute little date like checking out new all might merch, going to arcades, browsing through bookstores or spa/self care dates in the dorms.
all this helps relax the two of you from the stress of school and hero activities.Â
he also asks you to spar with him and sometimes y'all use quirks.
this gets you both a sufficient training done and a bonus for izuku as he can take notes in his hero journal.Â
if you ever got even the slightest scratch during these fights he would completely panic and would keep apologizing over and over again.
will make sure youâre okay and comfortable even hours later when youâre about to go to bed
he prefers calls over texts because he likes how close he can your voice when on the phone.
his instagram has little snippets of his life. just normal things like daily life, hangouts, school life etc.
he posts you too! on special days and also out of the blue when he secretly takes pictures of you on dates.
he has another account dedicated to all might.
he will always like and comment on your posts no matter what they may be.
NOTE â hi nonniee im sorry for the lateass post ive been prepping for school since my summer break's almost over đ. i tried implementing ai's personality into reader as much as i can and it was a bit hard but i hope you like it!! (ps: i actually died making the all might parts)
©loveriotss â all rights reserved to me. please donât try to copy/steal my work. please do not use any of my ideas/translate my work without my permission.
#loveriotss#anime#mha#my hero academia#bnha#boku no hero academia#izuku midoriya#deku#mha deku#izuku x reader#fluff#crack#crack fic#smau#mha smau#bnha smau#gn reader#x gn reader#male reader#x male reader#female reader#x female reader
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Chasing Fairytales || Neige LeBlanche
Neige is convinced that you're either allergic to him specifically or he's done something to offend you with the way you're avoiding him. You're just trying not to get blinded by his smile.
Neige LeBlanche is baffled. Every time he sees you, your face contorts like you just bit into a lemon dipped in hot sauce while sitting on a cactus. It's a new look, and honestly, it worries him. You used to at least smile at him, maybe even nod, like normal people do. But now? Now, you treat him like heâs carrying some weird medieval plague.
He thinks back to every interaction. Did he step on your foot? Spill something on you? No, nothing comes to mind. One day you were acquaintancesâmaybe even teetering on the edge of friendshipâand the next, you were bolting out of rooms faster than a cat hearing a vacuum.
Which brings him to his current situation: sitting in the house he shares with his friends. Theyâre all squished together on the couch, and Neige is surrounded by blank stares. These guys are his sounding board, but right now, theyâre as useful as a broken umbrella in a hurricane.
âDid you sneeze on them?â Grum suggests, not even looking up from his game console.
âNo, no, that wouldnât be it,â Dominic pipes up, adjusting his glasses. âMaybe you accidentally sent them a weird text? Like one of those autocorrect disasters?â
Neige shakes his head, thoroughly confused. âI havenât texted them anything strangeâŠâ
Hop, sitting cross-legged on the floor, nods sagely. âMaybe they saw you at a buffet once and you took the last of the mashed potatoes. People hold grudges over that kind of stuff.â
Timmy just blushes and mumbles something unintelligible while Snick chimes in with, âCould it be allergies? Maybe theyâre allergic to you?â
At this point, Neige is spiraling. Allergies? Mashed potatoes? Is there a secret mashed potato incident he forgot about?
Toby simply taps Neigeâs shoulder, holding up a drawing of two people holding hands with a big smiley face. Neige squints at it and tries to translate Toby's silent wisdom. âSo⊠I should hold their hand? Is that what youâre saying?â
The group falls silent for a moment, pondering this profound suggestion. Then Shelpie yawns and says, âMaybe youâre just overthinking it. People are weird.â
Neige sighs, still no closer to figuring out why youâve suddenly started acting like heâs carrying the plague.
Neige comes back to the club room after a long day of shooting and classes, ready to grab his bag and head home. As he's packing up, something catches his eyeâa boxed lunch sitting right there on his desk. He blinks at it, confused. Is this...lost and found material? Was someone in too much of a hurry and just ditched it here?
But then he sees the note. "Iâm cheering for you, Neige!" followed by a heart and a little smiley face. The handwriting is unmistakableâitâs yours. He stares at it, even more confused now, and kinda flattered too.
He scratches his head, wondering if he's entered some bizarre alternate universe where the person who avoids him like he's contagious is also sending him homemade lunches. "What did I do to deserve this?" he mumbles to himself, half expecting a hidden camera crew to pop out and yell âSurprise!â
Another day, Neige is stranded on campus, waiting for the rain to stop. His umbrella? Oh yeah, he gave that to a girl with a cold earlier because he's just that nice. Now heâs soaking and shivering under a tree, watching the downpour like it personally offended him.
Suddenly, he hears footsteps and sees you walking by, your jacket pulled tightly around you. It's the perfect chance to finally talk to you, to maybe say thanks for the mystery lunch. He smiles at you, hoping this might be the icebreaker heâs been waiting for.
Your reaction? You freeze like youâve just seen a ghost, eyes wide and panicked, and before he can even get a "Hey, how are you?" out, you launch your umbrella at him like it's a grenade. "Whaâ?" he barely gets the word out before you're gone, running away with your jacket awkwardly balanced over your head like a makeshift hood.
Neige stands there, soaked and confused, holding your umbrella and thinking, "We could have shared that, you knowâŠ"
The next day, he spots you again, this time crouched in the courtyard, petting a cat. You're cooing at it, making all those weird sounds people make when they think no one's watching, and the cat?
It's loving it, basking in the attention like it's at a spa. Neige sees an opportunity to approachâno rain this time, no excuses. He kneels beside you, reaching out to pet the cat too. "Cute, isnât it?" he says, smiling softly.
You, on the other hand, barely look at him. "Yes, cat," you mumble like it's some kind of mantra, eyes darting nervously. Then you do a quick check of your phone and blurt out, âOh no, Iâm late for our class!â before bolting upright and sprinting off like a marathon runner.
Neige watches you go, utterly perplexed. "That class is in five hours," he says to the cat, who just looks up at him with a smug purr, like it's in on some cosmic joke that Neige will never understand.
Neige is lost. He's been called naive before, but this? This is a whole new level of confusion. And maybeâjust maybeâa little heartbreak. You used to treat him like an actual person, not just a walking photoshoot waiting to happen.
Now? You're acting like heâs got some sort of rare, contagious celebrity plague, the kind of thing youâd catch from standing too close to a red carpet. Every time you see him, your face scrunches up like you just bit into an entire lemon, rind and all.
Heâs walking through campus when he spots you with Vil. Now, Neige likes Vil. He admires him, even. Dreams of the day theyâll sit together, drink tea, and discuss which highlighter makes you look âethereal but approachable.â
But right now, all he sees is you laughing and waving your hands like youâre auditioning for a role in a one-person circus, and Vil? Heâs smiling at you like youâve just told the funniest joke on the planet. And Neige feels something... alien.
Itâs not heartburn from that extra-large mocha frappuccino he had earlierâno, this is worse. His stomach twists, his heart sinks, and itâs official: Neige, the cinnamon roll of the universe, is jealous.
Back home, he gathers his trusty team of consultants: Timmy, Toby, and the rest of the gang, who are sitting around the table, looking like theyâre about to solve world hunger or invent a new kind of pizza. Neige dumps the whole story on them, his head in his hands.
âAnd then,â Neige groans, âthey just ran away, like I had some kind of... I donât know... âFamous-People-itis!ââ
Timmy leans back, strokes his chin with all the fake wisdom of someone who has never solved a problem in his life, and says, âNeige, itâs obvious.â
Neige perks up. âIt is?â
âOh yeah.â Timmy nods solemnly, like heâs about to deliver a TED Talk. âTheyâre sick.â
Neige stares at him. âSick?â
Hop jumps in, wide-eyed like heâs just cracked the code to the universe. âYeah! Itâs so clear! Theyâve got a classic case of... uh... âStage-Fright-itis.â Happens all the time when regular folks meet people like you.â
Neige blinks. âThatâs... not a thing.â
Hop waves him off, undeterred. âTotally a thing. Maybe theyâre allergic to fame. Itâs like how some people get hives around cats. Youâre like a walking award show, man. Just your presence makes people break out in nervous sweats.â
Dominic nods sagely. âOr worse. They couldâve caught âStarstruck Syndrome.ââ
Timmy gasps, clearly thrilled by this new theory. âYes! Classic symptoms: sudden avoidance, inability to make eye contact, randomly throwing umbrellas at you instead of saying helloâtextbook case.â
Neige stares between them, confused but desperate. âSo... you think theyâre avoiding me because theyâre sick? Like, fame-sick?â
Snick shrugs. âI mean, what else could it be? Youâre Neige LeBlanche, man! Maybe theyâre just overwhelmed by your... Neigeness.â
Neige feels like heâs fallen into some kind of alternate reality where this actually makes sense. He nods slowly, trying to absorb it. âOkay, so... theyâre not mad at me? Theyâre just... allergic to me?â
Timmy grins. âExactly! Just give it time. Maybe bring them a cup of tea. Or like... a calming crystal. And if it gets worse, well, maybe invest in a hazmat suit. Just in case.â
You donât know how this happened. One minute youâre chatting with Neige, all sunshine and sparkles, and the next, you wake up in a cold sweat, realizing you are absolutely, horrendously down bad for him. Itâs not even subtle. Itâs like a piano fell from the sky and crushed your chest with feelings.
But you? Youâre... well, you. Neige is a celebrity, practically a walking ray of sunshine wrapped in a Disney Princess aura. Birds sing when he passes by, small woodland creatures would probably braid his hair if they had thumbs. And you? Youâre the person who trips over their own shoes and talks to houseplants like they can solve your problems.
So, naturally, you do what any responsible person would do when faced with a crush that could upend their entire existence: you avoid him. Completely.
Youâll still be polite, of courseâleave him the occasional lunch with a cute note, chuck an umbrella at him when itâs rainingâbut actual conversation? Nah.
Thatâs just asking for trouble. Youâre already too attached, and the last thing you need is for this crush to grow into a full-blown romantic disaster.
One day, youâre chatting with Vilâwell, "chatting" is a strong word. Youâre pacing back and forth like a caffeinated squirrel, ranting about Neige and gesturing so wildly that Vil could probably make a whole meme compilation of just your hand movements.
âAnd heâs just so... pretty! Itâs not fair! How can someone be that perfect? I swear, heâs likeâlikeââ You flail dramatically, trying to find words for the cosmic injustice that is Neige LeBlanche.
Vil, who has been quietly sipping his tea, raises an eyebrow and watches the spectacle. At first, heâs mildly entertained. But the more you rant, the more he realizes something: youâre down bad.
You, who have somehow mastered the art of functional chaos, are completely, hopelessly in love with Neige. And Neige, poor, oblivious Neige, probably thinks youâve contracted some rare, Neige-specific allergy.
Vil starts to laugh. Not just a chuckle, but a full-on, head-back, hand-over-mouth, this-is-the-best-day-ever laugh. He finds it hilarious that you, despite being tangled in your own feelings, have the emotional awareness of a potato. And Neige? Well, heâs just confused, which is even better.
âYouâre fools,â Vil says, wiping a tear from his eye. âBoth of you. Foolishly in love.â
You donât even register his comment. Youâre too busy waving your hands around, grumbling, âItâs just... itâs not fair! Why does he have to be that pretty? I mean, does he wake up with that face?â
Vil sips his tea, smirking. This is prime entertainment. And thatâs when he notices Neige across the way, glancing over at you two with wide, unsure eyes. Ah, poor, innocent Neige.
With a bit of mischievous spiteâand maybe a touch of pityâVil lets out a soft sigh and shifts his expression. He stares at you with the most lovesick gaze he can muster, his eyes practically glowing with âadoration.â Itâs a look straight out of a romance drama, and he knows itâs Oscar-worthy.
Neige sees it. And Vil sees him see it. The realization hits Neige like a freight train. His eyes widen, his mouth opens in a soft, shocked âO,â and Vil? Oh, Vil is living for this. The confusion, the dawning horror, the jealousyâall of it.
Neige, who probably hasnât had a jealous bone in his body until this moment, now looks like heâs contemplating the meaning of life, death, and why Vil is looking at you like that.
Meanwhile, youâre still pacing, completely oblivious to the emotional chaos youâve just triggered. âAnd another thingâhow does he smell that nice all the time? Itâs not normal, Vil. Itâs witchcraft. I bet heâs got a secret team of scent specialists just following him around.â
Vil stifles another laugh. âYes, yes. Quite the mystery.â
Neige, on the other hand, is staring at the two of you like youâve just declared war. He doesnât understand it yet, but for the first time in his life, he feels something dark and uncomfortable curl in his chest.
Vil catches his eye again and gives him the tiniest smirk. Neige stiffens.
You, still on your rant, throw your hands in the air. âI just... I donât get it. Itâs like... heâs too perfect. I canât deal with it.â And Vil can't even muster the energy to get offended. He thinks this is prime entertainment.
Vil pats your shoulder, thoroughly amused. âPerhaps you should... have a word with him.â
You stop, finally noticing Vilâs smug grin. âWhat? Why?â
Vil just smirks and takes another sip of tea. âOh, nothing. Just a hunch.â
Youâve finally decided that enough is enough. Youâre going to talk to Neige. Youâre not even sure what youâre going to sayâprobably something awkward about feelings and how heâs so perfect it makes your head spinâbut the important thing is that youâve made up your mind.
Itâs time to stop running away like a scared cat and face him like a grown adult. Or, at the very least, someone whoâs pretending to be a grown adult.
So, you walk to his house, your heart hammering in your chest, rehearsing about a dozen different ways to break the news. "Hey, Neige, I think I might be a little bit in love with you..." or maybe, "So, uh, funny story, I canât look at you because youâre too attractive and itâs ruining my life."
But just as you raise your hand to knock, the door flies open, and thereâs Neige, looking frazzled and... holding a hazmat suit.
âHere!â He thrusts it at you like itâs a life-saving device. You blink at the suit, then at him.
âUh... why?â
âBecause youâre allergic to me!â Neige says, as if this is the most obvious thing in the world.
You stare. He stares back, eyes wide and earnest, and you canât decide whether you want to laugh or cry.
âNeige, thatâs not... thatâs not a thing that happens to people.â
âBut youâve been avoiding me!â he blurts, clutching the hazmat suit like itâs his last defense. âEvery time I see you, you run away, orââ he frowns slightly, ââyou throw things at me, like umbrellas! I just thought... maybe you were... allergic?â
You feel a pang of guilt seeing the hurt in his eyes. Hereâs Neige, genuinely thinking heâs the problem, when really the only issue is that heâs so perfect it makes your brain short-circuit.
You take a deep breath. Itâs now or never. âNeige, Iâm not allergic to you. I just...â You swallow, trying to find the right words. âIâve been avoiding you because... I like you. A lot. Like, in a romantic way.â
For a moment, the world stops. Neige blinks, his face blank as his brain processes your words. Then his heart stutters, and before you know it, heâs dropping to one knee.
You panic. âWaitâwhat are you doing?!â
Is he skipping directly to a proposal? Is he about to reject you so hard heâs physically collapsing? You stare, horrified, wondering how things escalated this quickly.
But then Neige laughs, a bright, happy sound that immediately sets your heart racing in a different way. âNo, no, Iâm not proposing! I meanâunless you want me toâbut, um, I was just going to ask if youâd be my partner.â
You let out a breath you didnât know you were holding, and then before you can stop yourself, you grab him by the collar and kiss him. His lips taste like cotton candy and a dream come true, and for a moment, everything feels like a fairytale.
When you finally pull away, Neigeâs smile is so blinding itâs a wonder the sun hasnât given up trying. âI think I was... jealous?â he says, almost like heâs surprised by the revelation. âThatâs never happened to me before. When I saw you with Vil... I didnât like it.â
You laugh, the sound bubbling up uncontrollably. âVil? Donât worry about him. Heâs my friend. He was just messing with you for fun.â
Before Neige can respond, thereâs a loud achoo from behind a nearby bush. You both turn to see his friends slowly emerge, looking sheepish. Snick is rubbing his nose, and Grum is pretending he wasnât just crouched in the bushes like a nosy little spy.
âWell, this is awkward,â you mutter, feeling your face heat up.
But they arenât even phased. They burst out cheering, clapping and whistling like theyâve just witnessed the grand finale of a romantic drama. You canât help but laugh as they chant congratulations, even though you want to crawl into a hole and die from embarrassment.
Neige turns to you, smiling that bright, pure smile of his. âMaybe this is a fairytale ending after all.â
And for once, you think maybeâjust maybeâyouâve finally found your happily ever after.
Masterlist
#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#twst#twisted wonderland#neige leblanche#twst neige#twisted wonderland neige#neige x reader#neige leblanche x reader#twst neige x reader
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