#but do you think he also wants the connection that comes from understanding
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formerplumi · 2 days ago
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( crow choir. entry one ) ── dust of snow ( m.s | prev/next )
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author's note at the end
you have three older brothers- no, two older brothers. you’ve only heard of the third. you can hardly think of them as such, feeling traitorous to your old family… families. but you are also a lonely child, so you give them permission to be props of your plain life.
the eldest, with stark blue eyes and dimples at his near-permanent smiles is named richard grayson. he’d given you a warm grin the day you arrived, that somewhat wavered at the blank look you hoped you gave him. you don’t talk to him, but sometimes you wish you did.
you know nothing of the second, apart from his first name; jason. the usual answers to unasked questions, that piece together via general conversations, don’t form here, and you can’t be bothered to ask. you wonder where he is, does he not come to visit?
the youngest of the three is older than you, tim drake the butler says, by maybe one or two years, you never tried to figure it out. he came to the house about a few months after you arrived, but seems far more involved with bruce’s business than you ever will be (ever hope to be). there’s a familiar twitch to his brows, and you relate it to old inquisitive roommates, the ones that tried to figure you out without asking questions and always gave up eventually. 
it's a relief he doesn't even try at all.
it does feel a little odd, to not have to talk to anyone just to shoo them away. you strangely miss it, the feeling of being irritated at bothersome small talk. in the silence of the manor, which had not much for a child to do, you start to feel lonely
you've never felt lonely before. alone, yes, isolated, absolutely, but lonely? you've never wanted company. not from anyone who wasn't... forget it.
and thus, you're in an odd situation. you want to be a part of the family, but you have no interest in talking to them. why, the mere idea makes you sweat all over, and you prefer your few meals in your room.
you don't like it. wanting so badly to converse with your brothers, get to know them the way you knew your old previous foster-care siblings, but not being able to.
in your old houses, the children would be somewhat put into forced proximity, there was no choice other than to call out for company. you'd gotten absurdly used to being reached out to without having to do it yourself. your brothers must be busy, or you must be too quiet for them to notice you around.
so with all the courage you could muster, you crept up to an idle older brother, visiting after so long from bludhaven. you might implode from the short moment where he looked at you with confusion, not knowing who you are, before giving you a awkward smile of acknowledgement. no matter, it's not his fault.
he nods off your subtle attempt at asking for his time, maybe you're not being clear enough? it's enough to put you off, so you leave quickly after he gives you a small promise to talk later, maybe get out of the house for a while.
it's such a small thing, but it makes you embarrassed. you try to build up a little stubbornness, and look to find tim. but when you find him immersed deeply in a book, a journal of some sort, you decide otherwise and leave.
it's okay. you'll try again! when you're feeling better. better and livelier.
livelier.
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your patterned quilt does little to keep away the monstrous cold of gotham's winter nights, and does it wreck though your nerves and leave you shivering.
the butler; alfred, had given you a good understanding of the room's systems, yet another thing that'd take time to get used to, and you knew the switches that would connect your vents to the central heating system.
but it feels so surreal, and the familiarity of huddling into your own ice cold limbs for warmth is a comfort you can't let go off just yet. you mustn't allow these new privileges to make you forget who you are. what you are, and what you deserve.
you recall a young boy in one of your old homes, discussing earnestly with your 'sisters' about what he'd do if he had all of gotham's money. the prospect of being filthy rich had always irked you to a small degree, to be well-off when others struggle. was it guilt? 
he'd gone on and on about the different things he'd get. a curly-haired poodle, a shining red bicycle, clothes that made him look like a proper gentleman, from a gentler city. you wonder solemnly where he is now, wishing you could share the fortunes you've been shoved into with him. someone who wanted it, deserved it.
deserving... deserving something is odd. whatever makes an individual deserving of something? the hardships they recieve, and the hardships they pass out?
you don’t remember your mother, having gained metaphorical consciousness at the age of six, when your sister started taking care of you instead. you made out from her teary, drunk mumblings that she was an awfully sophisticated woman. she’d colour herself with red blushes and redder lip stains, wear family jewels she refused to sell to her ‘business’ meetings. thin-framed glasses with the eyes of a vixen’s. 
what your sister muttered most about was her many nights away from home. one-sided conversations that plunged a small anchor to your heart, because you knew you were a product of one of them. 
when she was in a bitter mood, your sister never shied away from berating you for your existence. she, unlike you, was born in wedlock. yes, to an unhappy couple, who threw picture frames and cheap souvenirs at each other before splitting up, but she knew her father.
a ridiculously strange thing to hold above one’s head. “i knew my absent father. no one knows yours.” but your depraved heart and dull mind took it so deeply. so, so deeply. 
were those hardships? did you deserve them? others have it worse, right? so do you deserve this? this wealth?
now that you do know your father, you can’t help but resent the idea of knowing. did he know? that he left his child to an unbecoming family and an irresponsible sister? did he know that the guilt of starving your sister to eat yourself made you so incredibly weak-minded at the idea of being full? did he know that you refuse to switch the heater on in the cold, because you don’t know if your old foster siblings got the same luxury? all while the elites of gotham stay in their glasshouses with their rose gardens and wine cupboards.
you can’t put your finger to it. it’s not jealousy, it’s not resentment, it’s not hatred for his absence so far… is it guilt?
you don't know what to do with this abundance of luxury. you’ve lived a lifetime of pet mice from old caretakers, mice that died from the dust that creeped out of cracked floor boards and owls that haunted your window sills. a lifetime of reminiscing about a sobbing woman in your apartment, thinking about all your promises of providing a better life for her, only for her to die in front your eyes. a lifetime of wondering why mommy didn’t come back. why daddy's never there. who daddy even is.
someone else should have it. someone else should have the option to ask the butler for a piece of chocolate pastry at an odd time. to know about their father after countless days of not knowing him. to feel pretty in new dress suits after years of wearing the same two sets of clothes every week.
someone who deserves it more.
your sister.
you miss her.
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small events make you change too fast for even your own liking. small things made you so desperately attached to your big sister, small things made you so frightened, so ill, to try to talk to brothers who barely knew you only by your shadow. small things made you tolerate your father more, and mourn the fact you couldn't ever connect to him the way the others did.
small, small things. that troubeled you too much, made you decide it was time to leave. running away from reality in the comfort of your mind when you zone out, is not much different from physically running away, right? troublesome things are not worth the trouble. so you'll run away, and you'll be free. of duties you were never given.
yet another one of gotham’s teenage misfortunes. who leaves a home of riches with a light mind, with the desires of soaring through lost years in gotham like the daftest of pigeons, with no worries or vows. they leave a home of blood and bonds with a heavy heart, lamenting that this time, the choice to leave a permanent, forever family lay on them. they left unspoken conversations unsaid, and imaginary memories within their imagination.
...but, these conversations, these fake memories, become the objects of obsession, for those left behind.
where's the little crow who stalked the corridors, whose naive, cloudy eyes watched from behind walls?
alfred, where's (name)?
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INTERACTIONS AND REBLOGS VV APPRECIATED !! incase it was unclear, the sections jump around in the timeline. i did want to leave it to reader interpretation, but since this is the footer, there's no harm in explaining. "you have three brothers..." and "your patterned quilt does little..." are interchangeable within the plot. both are placed after tim's given the mantle of robin, but before jason's re-entry as the red hood. the last part however, is well after both, and damian's entry. anyway you can consider this entry as like, a vague plot summary? there's a lot that happens in between and after, most of the story is about after, but i like setting the ground for this stuff.
once again, if you are interested in the series, do interact! comments, reblogs, etc are so appriciated, to anyone who posts on tumblr! i'll try to get the next entry in soon, but i can't confirm anything!
thank you for reading!!
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321 notes · View notes
zepskies · 2 days ago
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Omg really? Wow, thank you so much. That's honestly amazing to me, considering this was one of the hardest for me to write in Smoke Eater. 💞
(But after reading your wonderful review, thank you for making me cry. 🥹💗💗)
First of all, please don't apologize for the heartfelt thoughts you want to share with me. No matter how long or short, I love hearing what you think about my writing, and this is genuinely one of the best reviews I've ever received, because I can tell it came from the heart.
What's crazy is my mom and I also used to watch Chicago Fire together when she was trying to recover from surgery (where she had terrible complications and wasn't well for a long time). It became her comfort show, and I was happy to introduce it to her/have that bonding time where it kept her from thinking about her pain. But I'm so glad you thought to come here to perk yourself up after a rewatch.
honestly I have so many thoughts for each wonderful chapter but I would feel super guilty for spamming :’) this chapter in particular though, hits me harder than anything i’ve ever read before — not in a bad way!🤍
lol girl that's the best kind of spamming. I'd never be upset with that! 😂 Oh good, I'm glad it doesn't hit in a bad way. I was concerned about that for readers when I was first posting this part of the story. 💙
my mom had epilepsy, and I was her caretaker pretty much my entire life. I connect so much with this story because it, feels like i’m reading a mirror, if that makes any sense at all. with all the doctors and the worrying, it’s written so authentically, which is understandable after reading your author’s note. i’m so sorry you’ve experienced such difficult hardships and losses yourself honey, I offer my sincere condolences. and i’m sending you the biggest hugs 🫂🤍🤍
I'm sending you the biggest hugs right back, friend. I'm so sorry about what your mom went through, and what you went through too. Being a caretaker is not easy. I've seen it enough in my family that that's what I drew from in order to write this, so I'm glad it felt authentic to your experience. 🫂💞
now these lines/parts specifically had me crying like a baby lol. december of 2021, my mom had to have surgery at the start of the month. her recovery was going a little slow, but well. however she passed away overnight, 2 days after christmas, completely unexpected. the day before she had been doing so well too— she had more energy and was more mobile without needing as much assistance. came to find out later that’s something nurses call a surge? :/ either way, those moments in particular really tugged at my heartstrings ❤️‍🩹
I'm so sorry for your loss, my friend. It is blind sighting when it comes so unexpected like that. I haven't shared this publicly, but something similar happened with my grandfather this past December. His health declined suddenly, to the point we had to take him to the hospital. After seeming to get better after a few days, he went downhill even harder, and he passed away in mid-December. It's not the same thing as your situation, but I understand the feeling of "why did this happen like this?" But now he's at peace with my grandma. And your mom is free from her pain and discomfort too. ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹
this line too. I felt this way for so long after my mom died. I didn’t get the final cause for a while since she passed at home and not at a hospital, and to this day I wish I could go back. wish I could’ve done something different. but SUDEP (or, sudden unexpected death in epilepsy) is completely unpreventable so far. I just find it so cruel that this illness I spent my whole life helping her with, ended up taking her anyway and nothing I did mattered in the end. so reading that line, how she broke down, and everything she had been holding in, it really made my heart ache but I also felt less alone in a way.
And I'm sure you did everything you possibly could, just like the reader in this story. 💞 I didn't know about SUDEP, but I have a family member who takes medication for his epilepsy, so I'm going to be reading up on that. I'm so glad that this simple line made you feel less alone in any small way -- I also thought when I was writing that it not only fit what the character was going through, but that other people who've been caretakers for a family member like this would be able to identify with this feeling as well.
everything that followed, it’s like reading a reflection. I shutdown and just went through the motions afterwards too, but ohhh how nice it would’ve been to have a dean ❤️ his support, how he takes care of her, it’s so heartwarming. and it’s really comforting to read. <3
It's that awful "autopilot" thing that somehow allows us to get through the aftermath, in a way, right? If only we could all have a Dean to support us in those moments. Somehow, reading hurt/comfort fics help me feel better too though. 💓💓
a lot of my family distanced themselves afterwards which, it is what it is. that being said, the sentiment in this story of family isn’t always blood resonates with me a lot. my support system is really small, but they chose to be there for me unlike my blood relatives so, that theme in this story means so much — the way dean’s chosen family shows up for her as well, it’s so sweet. 💖
Ugh really? I'm sorry to hear that. 💙💙 But thank you for pointing that out -- that is the overarching theme of this story, a la SPN style. 🥹 Your chosen family can be just as powerful, if not more, than your blood family. And in this story, Dean's family is basically "adopting" the reader/you into it. 💕
I guess the gist of what i’m trying to say, is I wholeheartedly adore this series and it truly means so much to me 🤍 I appreciate your work so much, and I love the unique feeling each piece of your writing brings 💗💗 I know I may sound like a broken record but truly I don’t think I can ever put into words how much I love your blog. you are an absolute sweetheart, truly a light peeking out between cloudy skies 💞
Wow, I really did tear up of happiness. Thank you. 🥹🥹 I appreciate you right back for reading this story and connecting with it like you did. And I'm so glad that you enjoy my blog!! I've only been here on Tumblr for about 2 years actively, but connecting with people like you is what's keeping me here, and honestly gives me energy to write and express myself when I'm going through hard times.
This chapter specifically was very difficult for me to write for multiple reasons, as you saw in my AN, but again it makes me all the more grateful that this is the chapter you connect with the most. I'm very sorry for your loss though. I'm really touched that this story can give you some small comfort. 💞
(And no it's not too much. Thank YOU for taking the time to share this with me.)
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Smoke Eater - Part 11
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Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 
Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 
That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.   
🔥 Series Masterlist
Word Count: 5,400 Tags/Warnings: Major angst warning. But also major hurt/comfort.
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Part 11: “Heart of the Home”
You sat very still.
Your hands were gripped together in your lap when the doctor entered. He was tall and lean and blonde, and he would’ve reminded you of your boss, except this man had a kinder face.
You were sitting on the edge of your grandfather’s bed, hoping the doctor would say the bloodwork and scans came back fine. That they wouldn’t need to admit George into the hospital for further testing. That he could go home in the morning.
But your life had never been quite that easy.
“Okay, George. I’m sorry, but we need to admit you,” said the doctor.
He explained that while the malignant tumor of his cancer had been removed last year, the scans that had been done last month hadn’t been able to detect the bright spots now formed on George’s lungs and lymph nodes.
The oncologist would have to confirm, but you all knew where this was headed. Likely those “bright spots” were tumors.
George nodded slowly at first, taking it all in. He asked what his options were, as far as treatment.
“Your oncologist will go over those options with you,” the doctor replied. “We’re going to move you up to Oncology shortly.”
George thanked him.
And you sat very still. 
A hand fell on your arm, finally earning your gaze. George’s face was oddly calm, though the worry in his eyes was for you. You realized that he’d gently called your name, though you hadn’t heard him. Your ears were ringing.
His mouth parted to tell you something, but nothing came out. So instead, he tugged you into his arms, and he heaved a long sigh.
“I guess we’re here again,” he admitted. He let out a chuckle. “The Lord does like his tests…but maybe that car accident was a blessing in disguise, huh?”
You heard his voice, but your mind was buzzing—mainly with the doctor’s words, and with a bone-deep feeling that threatened to consume you.
Your car, your fault. Options, again. Here again.
Your fault.
When you didn’t answer, George pulled away a bit to give you a questioning look.
“Sweetheart?” he tried. You laid a hand on his arm.
“You still haven’t eaten dinner, have you?” you asked. Neither had you, for that matter. “I’ll get us something that isn’t rubbery turkey.”
George blinked at you, confused, with a growing edge of worry.
“Isn’t Dean getting your meds? Why don’t you wait for him to—”
“I’m fine,” you said, already getting up to grab your purse. “I’ll be back.”
George called your name again, but the ringing in your ears was now pulsing in time with your heartbeat.
You made your way down the hall to the lobby at a brusque clip, even with your neck brace on. You didn’t see Dean, but he certainly saw you as he was walking back into the hospital. Frowning, he followed and called out to you.
You slowed when you saw him, and he soon caught up with you. He rested a hand on your back.
“Hey, where you goin’?" he asked.
“We haven’t eaten in a while. I’m going to the cafeteria,” you said. Though you seemed distracted, your eyes meeting his only briefly. It triggered a small spidey sense running up Dean’s spine.
He gave you your prescription pain medication, which you took with a small “thank you.”
“Everything okay?” he asked. “How’s George doing?”
“Fine. He’s resting,” you said. And by the look of you, that seemed to be true. But he spotted the tremble in your hands when you took the pill bottle package from him. It made him stop you when you tried to keep walking down to the cafeteria.
“Okay, you wanna run that by me again?” Dean asked.
You frowned, and your brows knit together. “What?”
“Is there something going on?” he pressed.
You sighed, but you didn’t answer him. You looked exhausted, and like you’d rather swallow your own tongue than speak. You shook your head and laid a hand on his wrist.
“I’m fine. Dean, thank you for everything you did tonight, but you still have to work tomorrow. Go home, get some rest,” you said.
You turned from him again. That was your first mistake. He reached out and grasped your hand to stop you.
“Hey, wait a minute,” he said.
“What?” you said in irritation. Your second mistake was not being able to look at him.
Dean was frowning in earnest now. Worry clawed in his gut, which was also telling him not to let you walk away from him. His grip shifted to hold both of your arms and move directly in front of you. He dipped his chin, trying to get you to meet his eyes.
“Come on, sweetheart,” he said gently. “I need you to talk to me.”
You inhaled a shuddering breath. A wave was rising inside you, threatening to pull you into its undertow. Your eyes burned, red and shining. Dean finally saw it when you raised your head, what little you could. Your mouth began to quiver, looking into his eyes. And it was done.
You could no longer be still.
Dean held you when you fell apart in the hallway.
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Dean called out of work the next day to stay with you and George. Gordon would be acting Lieutenant until his next shift, and Dean was sure the man would take full enjoyment out of it.
He couldn’t care about that right now though. He felt that his place was here, being your quiet wall of support while you and George and the oncologist talked about treatment options.
“Normally, at the stage we’re in, I would be recommending chemotherapy,” said Dr. Benton.
“Normally?” you echoed.
“At the rate this is progressing, the treatment would have to be aggressive,” he said. His gaze focused on George. “However, at your age, and the current state of your overall health…at this point, I don’t think the rigors of treatment would be worth diminishing your quality of life.”
“What are you saying?” you asked. Your voice cut like a whip, earning the other men’s gazes.
George was the first one to lay a hand on your arm. “You know what it means, honey…he’s saying it ain’t worth it.”
“Of course, it’s worth it,” you retorted. With your brows furrowed and lips pursed, your eyes went from him to the doctor. “Just because he’s older, we shouldn’t even try? Is that what you’re saying, doctor?”
At that, even Dean drew closer to lay a hand on your back. Meanwhile, George squeezed your arm.
Benton shook his head gravely. “That’s certainly not what I’m saying.”
“How much time would I get, if I started treatment,” George asked, before you could volley further with the doctor.
Benton met the other man’s gaze.
“I’m going to be honest with you, George. You may get a few more weeks, or even a few months. But that is a best-case scenario.”
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Dean drove you all home that day, after George decided to formally waive treatment. Both men knew you were angry in your silence, but neither one wanted to press you. Dean was too wary, and George was too tired.
Once he was settled in bed, you hadn’t even left his room yet before you grabbed a notepad off his desk and wandered into the hall. You started to make a list of things you still needed from the grocery store, among other things. Dean took that piece of paper out of your hands.
“Good. I’ll handle this,” he said. “Meanwhile, you can get upstairs, take a shower, take your meds, and get some sleep.” 
You frowned at him. “You haven’t slept either, Dean.”
“I’m used to it,” he said, giving you a wink and a slight smile. Overnight shifts could be a bitch at a firehouse, but Dean was no stranger to having his sleep interrupted.
“Listen to him, honey. He’s speaking sense,” George called from inside his room. The bedroom door was still open. He was settling into his bed while trying to stifle a cough. He sipped at a cup of water you’d brought for him.
Still, you looked reluctant. Dean held your arms and pressed a kiss to your forehead.
“Come on,” he said. “You were in an accident yesterday. You’ve had one hell of a night. You need your rest, or you’ll be no good to anyone.”
And if you pushed yourself much more, he worried that he’d have to take you right back to the hospital. Dean would rather not have that scare so close to the last one.
He brushed your cheek with gentle fingers. With the limited mobility your neck brace provided, you did your best to look up at him. Your eyes were softer.
“Okay,” you breathed.
“Okay? All right, good,” Dean said. You held onto his jacket for a moment, leaning against him.
“Thank you,” you whispered. You felt the burn of tears behind your closed eyelids. A few of them squeezed past and slipped down your cheeks. Dean held your face, brushing the tears away with his thumbs.
“Hey, I’m here, all right? Just let me help you,” he said. “You can lean on me when you need to.”
“I haven’t had that in a long time,” you admitted. “Part of me doesn’t know how to lean.”
“I get that,” Dean said. But you both knew that there was a long and difficult road ahead. He knew he didn’t have to remind you of it. “Whatever you need, you just tell me, okay? If nothing else, I’ve got a strong pair of shoulders.”
Somehow, you smiled. You pressed your forehead against his chest and inhaled deeply, to steady yourself.
“That you do, Lieutenant.”
You left for your room soon after, but not before you brought him down to you for one more tearful kiss.
Dean then watched you climb up the stairs to your room and nearly went up to help you, but he heard George call his name. Dean ventured back into George’s room and heeded his beckoning hand.
“You hungry? I can scramble some eggs or something before I hit the store. I think I saw two more left in the carton,” Dean said. George shook his head.
“Come ‘ere a sec.”
Dean took the hint and sat on the edge of the bed.
“I just wanna thank you for everything you did yesterday. Everything you’re still doing for us,” George said. He looked exhausted, but whatever he wanted to say was important enough to fight off sleep. He clasped a hand on Dean’s arm.
“You don’t have to,” Dean replied.
George huffed. A smile made his eyes gleam brighter.
“I knew you were a special one, Dean Winchester. Knew it the night I met ya, on your very first date with her.”
Dean blinked, but his pause drifted into a reserved smile.
“How’s that?” he asked.
“Well, I’ll be honest. When I heard that black Chevy rumble like hell’s wheels onto the driveway, I thought I might have to worry about you,” George chuckled.
Dean’s lips quirked.
“But no, it wasn’t that. It wasn’t the pretty flowers, or our mutual love of killer sharks,” George quipped, making Dean’s smile more genuine. “It isn’t your job either, or the fact that you saved her. I just believe that you can see a man’s mettle in his eyes…and I saw it in you when I shook your hand that night.”
Dean took that in for a moment. His hand flexed over his knee. Then he met George’s gaze, though he didn’t know what to say. Sometimes though, honestly was the best bet.
“I’m sorry for what you’re going through,” he said at last. “I can’t imagine…”
George let out a breath through his nose. “I’ll tell you a secret.”
He pointed to a picture frame on his bedside. It was of him and his wife, Sophie, when they were around your age and Dean’s. The couple were sitting on a pier that hung over the edge of the lake in their hometown.
She held him from behind, with her arms wrapped around his neck. Her long hair was being carried by the wind, getting swept into George’s eyes. He was smiling too hard to care.
“I’m ready to smile like that again,” he said. He had tears in his eyes, but he was already lighter at the thought. “I know it’s selfish…but I think I’ve missed her long enough.”
Dean paused. Then he cleared his throat past a small well of something he couldn’t name. He wondered if his dad ever had thoughts like that.
“Well, I’ll let you get your rest,” he said. “I’ll be back.”
George nodded and gave Dean’s arm a squeeze. “All right. Drive safe. Don’t hit any goddamn trees.”
He shot Dean a knowing wink, and it almost had the younger man laughing. George’s sense of humor was something else.
Dean then left George to rest. He made sure he had his wallet, keys, and your grocery list before he left your house and went back to the car. He checked his phone and saw a missed call…from Cas.
Dean was reminded again about Azazel, the kingpin who might’ve ordered a hit on his family. Along with the recent murders and arsons, and the connection from one of the victims to your company, Savage & Co.
Dean returned the call as he climbed into the Impala.
“Dean. Everything all right?” Cas asked. “Sam filled me in about the accident.”
“Yeah, everyone’s okay…well, not really. I’ll explain later,” Dean replied. “Listen, about what we talked about at the bar.”
“Yes.” Cas said gravely. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t go to your father about this yet.”
“Funny, I was thinking the same thing.” Dean sighed. “My girl just got some real bad news. I know you gotta keep digging into Savage & Co., but can you keep her out of it?”
“Is she all right?”
“Yeah, more or less…it’s her grandfather.”
“Ah, I see,” Cas said. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Thanks, man. I’d rather her just focus on what she needs to do right now, you know?”
“I get it. And believe me, we’re keeping the investigation of Nick Savage quiet for now,” Cas said. “But if we find something, or worse, if I can’t…I’ll likely need to question her. She works directly with Savage, and from what I can tell, she’s instrumental in bringing in and maintaining several of his major accounts.”
Dean stopped at a red light and took a moment to rub a hand over his tired face, rubbing his eyes. “You don’t really think she’s got any idea of what that asshole’s into.”
“I’m not saying she does. But in working so closely with him, perhaps she’s noticed things about her boss, and the company. Things she’s kept to herself, out of self-preservation.”
Dean frowned. He didn’t want to think about shit like that. It made his stomach churn at the thought of you working for someone who might be doing business with a crime lord, let alone Azazel.
“Well, when that day comes, give me a heads up, okay?”
“Will do.”
“Thanks, Cas.”
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Dean offered to take another day off to help you, but you wouldn’t let him. He needed to go back to work, and you were able to arrange working from home for the next few weeks.
Even Nick couldn’t refuse to accommodate you in a situation like this. He knew very well that if he pushed you too hard, you’d go directly to HR.
So he backed off, and told you to take as much time at home as you needed. It allowed you to put him, and that afternoon in his office, away from your mind to focus on taking care of your grandfather.
Though you called your best friend the day you got home from the hospital, Andréa didn’t come by your house to see you and George until the end of the week. She cited mounting projects at work and some kind of tiff with her cousin Meg, but it all sounded like excuses to you.
However, she was gracious enough to bring dinner for the three of you on a Friday night. She cut up with George like normal, and even got him laughing, until a coughing fit forced him to stop. It also took most of the joy out of the rest of the evening.
While George went up to his room to rest, Andréa later joined you in the kitchen. You were washing the dishes, trying to focus on what you were doing. But your mind was buzzing continuously with future tasks and worries. Always, tasks and worries.
“How are you holding up?” Andréa asked. She rubbed your back, and you gave her a slight smile.
“All I can do is make him comfortable, for as long as possible,” you replied. There were tears in your friend’s eyes, but she dabbed them away with the back of her hand.
“What do you need? Anything, you just tell me,” she said.
It was a little easier for you to contemplate leaning on Andréa. You had been friends with her for years, and she was like another daughter to George.
On the other hand, asking Dean for help always made you hesitate. What you two had was still so new. You worried that this was too much for your relationship, too fast. 
“Well,” you sighed as you wiped your hands dry on a kitchen towel. You didn’t exactly want to talk about it, but there were things you had to start planning, even if you didn’t know the exact timeframe.
However, as soon as you opened your mouth to reply, Andréa’s cell phone rang. She held up a finger to you and checked it. To your surprise, she actually answered it.
“Hey, babe,” she replied with a smile. You heard Benny’s deep voice on the line, asking a question. “Yeah, I’m still here. I’m probably leaving soon though.”
She continued her conversation for a few more minutes, but you didn’t hear anything after that. A tension headache was sharp behind your eyes, while anger (yes, anger) rolled hot under your skin. Your lips pursed. You busied yourself with straightening up the kitchen until she continued her call for another few minutes.
“Sorry about that,” she said, finally turning her attention back to you. “So what do you need?”
You put away the last dry dish and turned to her coolly.
“Nothing.”
Andréa frowned. She knew there was something off with you, but her furrowed brows betrayed her confusion.
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing,” you repeated. “Don’t you need to head out, anyway?”
“No, I was just…what’s up with you?” she asked.
“What’s up with me is my grandfather’s dying!” you snapped. You left her in the kitchen, precisely so that she’d follow you out. You grabbed her purse for her and went to the front door, where you stepped out.
Andréa was dismayed and confused as she followed you out onto the porch. She raised her brows at you when you shut the door and crossed your arms at her.
“I know you, and this isn’t just about that. What’s the problem?” she asked.
“You can’t seem to detach from your boyfriend for more than five minutes to just be my friend. That’s the problem,” you replied. “But why should I be surprised? Like always, you’re too wrapped up in yourself to consider anyone else.”
Her brows knitted together; she looked hurt by your words, but also defensive.
“How can you say that when you’ve been exactly the same way?” she accused. “Since you met Dean, I’d be lucky to see you once a week—”
“I call you every week,” you began, counting the list with your fingers. “You’re always busy, but you never give me a day that works for you. And when we do make plans, you usually cancel. Why? Because you’re going sailing with Benny. You’re going to a restaurant, hours away, just to try the new sushi bar beer garden, or whatever the hell. Or you’re going on an impromptu road trip, or you’re planning a summer trip to Greece. Give me fucking break, Dre.”
By now she was frowning angrily, her arms crossed. “You’re mad at me because I have a life?”
“No. I’m happy for you that you found someone. I really am,” you said. “But we clearly live in two different versions of reality. I just don’t have the time or the energy to entertain yours.”
You knew you were being too harsh. You felt incredible guilt as soon as it all left your mouth…but part of you also felt like a weight had been lifted off your chest. The problem was, you still felt heavy. Just in a different way.
Both of you were crying when Andréa left your house.
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All too soon, a week became a month. In that time, Dean called you every day to check on you. He spent most of his evenings with you and George when he wasn’t on shift. And when he was, sometimes Meg would drop in.
She understood your argument with Andréa, and she respected you for taking a stand when you needed to. She even confided you that she’d had similar frustrations with her cousin lately.
But Meg wasn’t your only visitor. Ellen had come a few times to bring you lunch and dinner, even breakfast, though you hadn’t asked her to. You realized then how close Dean must be to his friends at the firehouse, along with the Harvelles; Ellen also refused to take any money from you for the food.
By the end of the month, George mainly spent his days sleeping. Pain medication made his days nearly painless, but not without struggle. You were doing your best to care for him while continuing to work full-time from home. You were also exhausted, though you refused to admit it.
Today was a better day, however, because George was awake. He was also more aware of his surroundings than usual.
He stopped you from adjusting his pillow so you would sit down on the edge of his bed. He took your hand in his, brushing a thumb over the back of it.
“I’m okay with this, you know,” he said. You pursed your lips, but he stopped you from whatever you were going to say. “I don’t want to leave you. You know that…but I’m so damn proud of you. Your Gram was, and still is…”
Your lower lip wobbled as you tried and failed to keep your tears at bay. They stung in your eyes and slipped past your defenses, down your face.
“The house is yours. But if that’s too hard for you, just sell it,” he said, heaving a deep breath. “It’s just the bones. You’re the heart. And you always have been.”
You opened your mouth to speak, but not a sound would come out. You held his hand with both of yours and stared down at them. Until his voice once again commanded your attention.
“I always thought…moving to the city ruined my daughter. That we should’ve stayed in Lebanon. That maybe I gave her too much freedom, and I failed her somehow along the way,” George said. His eyes were heavy with old heartache. And yet, they soon began to lighten.
“But the day we lost a daughter, we gained one too,” he said. Then, he chuckled a little. “And I know I never failed with you, sweetheart.”
That proved to be too much for you. He pulled you into his arms like you were still a child, and he held you for a long time while you cried yourself out.
Though he eventually spotted Dean hesitating in the doorway. He’d probably let himself in with the spare key you’d given him.
George raised a hand from your back and silently beckoned Dean inside his room. He was getting tired, drifting off thanks to the morphine.
“Hey, lookie there. The boyfriend’s here,” George whispered with a bit of cheek. You sucked in a breath and raised your head, wiping at your eyes before you turned around. Dean met you with an attempt at a smile and a gentle hand on your back.
“Just got out of work?” you asked. He’d been on a 24-hour shift, and you’d missed him. You stood and stepped into his welcoming embrace. He dropped a kiss on your forehead.
“Yeah. I’ve got the next couple of days off,” Dean said. He greeted George next and asked him if he needed anything.
“Just some water,” the older man replied.
“I’ll get it,” you said with a sniff. “Need to start dinner too.”
“I already brought some food. You like Italian, right?” Dean said, with a subtle smile. It earned your sigh and a grateful smile. He knew very well that it was now one of your favorites. Italian meatballs always reminded you both of your first date.
“Thank you,” you said, grasping his hand. He squeezed yours with a nod, before he let you go.
When you were out of earshot, George cleared his throat past a wet cough. Dean reached over and grabbed him a tissue. George took it with a nod. Again, he encouraged Dean to come closer.
“I’m not worried,” George said, between deep breaths. “You know why?”
Dean just stared back for a moment. He genuinely had no idea what the man might say next.
“Tell me,” he said.
“My granddaughter’s strong. Always has been, because she had to be,” said George. “But you’re gonna be there when she’s not.”
Dean considered the weight of that charge. The anxiety in his chest felt familiar; like the day he got his badge at the Fire Academy, knowing then the responsibility he held in his hands.
That’s a lot to put on just three months of knowing this girl, came a more selfish thought. It sounded a lot like the guy he used to be, not too long before he met you.
But when Dean thought about you, and what you’d begun to mean to him…
He realized that he only had one answer.
“Yes, sir. I am,” said Dean.
George gave a tired smile. “Good man.”
And that night, an agreement was made. 
In the morning, your grandfather was gone.
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Dean held you through what he thought was the worst of your heartbreak. But after that dour morning, it was like a switch flipped inside you.
In the days after George’s death, your shutters came up. You threw yourself into checklists and task after task—in funeral arrangements and planning and contacting distant relatives and friends.
This was your failsafe. Your version of “autopilot.” And these things needed to get done, after all.
But Dean worried when he no longer saw the softer side of you. Like your heart had been wrung dry. 
He inevitably had to go back to work, but in between the demanding hours of his schedule, he tried to get you to slow down. He saw the warning signs of you running yourself into the ground. He just didn’t know how to help you land.
So Dean picked up slack where he saw it, often without you asking him to. He began fixing the house, one section at a time. He enlisted Benny’s help, since he actually had a small construction business. Dean even paid for the materials himself without you knowing.
And one sunny afternoon, he took a break from repaving part of the cracked and uneven driveway to grab a beer inside. You were sitting at the kitchen table with stacks of papers all around you, your cellphone on speaker as some kind of elevator music continued to ring on a loop.
“Can you believe I’ve been on hold with the funeral director for 20 minutes?” you told him in irritation. But you didn’t truly take sight of him until he came back from the kitchen.
He wore a familiar ensemble of jeans and black undershirt with a plaid shirt, rolled up to his elbows. He was covered in a fine layer of sweat, and his hands were dusty and stained from his work on the driveway. Dean looked tired, and that made you feel guilty.
Meanwhile, he frowned and popped open a beer. “You want one of these? Looks like you could use one.”
You shook your head. With a sigh, you hung up the phone. You’d try calling again later. Instead, you focused on the next item of your checklist for today.
“Food. Because we’re gonna need to eat after the service,” you inclined your head. “Okay, still need to come up with a list of caterers, because I don’t think I can cook for that many people.”
Dean nodded at that. “Let me talk to Ellen. She’ll give you a good price, and her food is good.”
You looked up from your notepad and considered him thoughtfully. You wouldn’t have thought to cater from a bar, but he was right. Ellen had great food at the Roadhouse.
“Okay, I’ll call her,” you said.
“No, I’ll call her,” Dean insisted. He set down the beer on the table and leaned his palms flat on its surface. “Sweetheart, I told you I’d help you with all this. You don’t have to do it by yourself.”
“Dean, you’ve done enough,” you replied. Your brows drew together stubbornly. “You’re paving my driveway right now, for God’s sake! This is my responsibility, not yours.”
Dean frowned, making you sigh. You leaned back in your seat and crossed your arms.
“Look, we’ve only been dating for three months,” you said. And in your mind, a good chunk of that time had been spent in the worst hell of your life. “This right here? It’s a lot. I’m not expecting you to deal with all this…”
You bit your lip, and your gaze fell away from his as your insecurities took hold. The thoughts that had been plaguing you every night since this all began, on the night of the car accident.
“And…if you’d rather take a break from us for a while, I’d understand,” you said.
Your voice was more collected than you felt. But that didn’t make it any easier when Dean stared back at you, mostly incredulous. You even thought you saw a thread of hurt there, and it made your heartache worsen.
Dean came around to your side of the table. He dragged a chair back and sunk into it, facing you directly.
“You think that’s the kind of guy I am?” he asked.
You immediately shook your head. You weren’t trying to upset him, or imply that he wasn’t reliable, or trustworthy, or whatever was running through his head. You were just trying to be realistic.
You’re so pragmatic it hurts, as Andréa had often told you.
“Dean, it’s not that…” you began, a bit helplessly. “I just—”
“Just, nothin’.” His chair scraped toward you as he reached out for your hand. He made sure you looked him in the eyes when he said this next part. 
“I’m not leaving you with this.”
Your gaze met his, though you desperately tried to keep your heart from rising into your throat. 
“I’m not leaving you,” Dean said. His tone, his eyes, his hold on your hand was firm.
For a moment, you stared at him, unblinking, even as tears swam in your eyes. 
He’s not leaving you. 
Not like everyone else in your life.
You were grateful. Too grateful, even, for words.
When you finally broke down into tears, Dean realized what an idiot he’d been. Your wall of stoicism had been just that—a flimsy wall. Now it was shattered, and so were you.
It scared him just how much, as he gathered you onto his lap and into his arms. You didn’t seem to care that he was dirty and covered with sweat. You clung to him strong, and he held you back just as tightly.
“No matter what I did, it wasn’t enough,” you confessed. “You save people all the time. I couldn’t save anyone in my life.”
Dean frowned. He cupped the back of your head, and he felt your tears sliding down his neck. His voice was thick with emotion when he was able to reply.
“Oh, baby. It’s not your fault.”
“I can’t…I can’t do anything. Anything that matters.” Your voice was a broken whisper. It damn near broke his heart. 
“Now you know that’s not true,” he said. “I’m not gonna let you lie to yourself like that.”
You trembled and heaved with sobs, and he continued to hold you.
Just be there, Sam had told him, when Dean had called him from the hospital. Sam reminded him again last week, when George finally passed.
Is that all I’m supposed to do? Dean thought. His brows furrowed, but he tried to hide his frustration.
He was used to people depending on him. He led a team. Before then, he’d looked out for Sam all his life. Dean had never had to help someone get through this kind of grief though. He just wanted to help you, in whatever way he could.
Because he was worrying, just like you. That whatever he did, it wouldn’t be enough.
But he couldn’t leave you. 
I can’t, and I won’t, he thought. So he took a breath, and he said the first true thing that came to mind.
“You’re the strongest woman I know, you know that?” Dean said. He spoke low and steady, but with the conviction he felt. “And that’s a tall order, considering some of the badass ladies I’ve got in my life.”
A smile tugged at his lips when he considered people like Ellen and Jo, Jody and Donna. He might’ve lost his mom, but he and Sam hadn’t lacked when it came to influential women in their lives.
“But I saw it the day we met. I see it every time we’re together,” he continued. “You work hard as hell. You take care of everyone around you…”
You were still quiet, trying to stifle your crying.
Dean let out a breath. “Man, if you only knew how much you’ve been helping me. Keeping my damn feet on the ground with this whole…arsonist mess my dad’s been investigating. Digging up the past, my mom, the whole damn thing.”
With a sniffle, you uncurled from him, just enough to reveal your face. Your grip on his shirt loosened, your palm flattening on his chest. He held your hand there and turned his lips to your forehead. He sensed that you were calming down. That you were listening.
“That matters to me,” he told you.
You nodded and tightened your hand on his. “Me too.”
Your voice was still shaky, but it sounded a little stronger.
“See? You might as well face it.” Dean grinned. “You’re a badass chick with a big heart.”
You snorted in response. Your lips even twitched at a smile. He spied it when he looked down at you. And you rested easier against him as your tears subsided.
“Thank you,” you whispered. He dried your cheek with a brush of his hand. 
“For what?” he asked.
“For staying.”
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AN: So first off, I'm sorry for the gritty "reality" of this one. It's just where the story took me, though it serves a purpose narratively and for both the reader and Dean's character development.
But also, I think this has just been on my mind, since both my grandmother and great uncle (brother and sister) died within a year of one another due to different forms of cancer. My great uncle passed in May of this year, and my grandmother two years this past October.
Again, I'm sorry if this one was too heavy, but art does imitate life and this was probably my brain trying to express those emotions I couldn't fully make sense of at the time. George will be missed, but will still be felt in the rest of this story, as I'm sure any of you who've lost close family members will understand. 💙
Next Time:
The identity of Azazel will finally be revealed in Part 12. But first...
You nodded. “By the way, it was nice of Sam and Eileen to come. And Meg and Cas.” 
Dean smiled.
“They can be your people too,” he said. “If you want ‘em to be.”
You couldn’t help it. Your tears brewed and bubbled over. And you moved slowly across the couch to twine your arms around his neck. Dean’s lips tugged at a smile, and he welcomed you with an arm wrapping around your waist.
Both of you were still wearing the same clothes you’d been wearing all day; you in your black dress and Dean in his slacks and white buttoned-down shirt, though by now without the jacket, and the shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
You were infinitely exhausted. But one thing had become clear to you over the past few weeks.
“Thank you. Thank you for today, and for every day since we met,” you said shakily.
Keep Reading: PART 12
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Dean Winchester Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Series Tag List (Part 1):
@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb
@vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91
@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @katherineann814 @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19
@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420
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lemon-shark-gamer · 20 hours ago
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The Genshin Impact fandom is fascinating to me when it comes to fanfics, because I feel like I struggle to find any fics that really *get* the characterization of certain characters and I'm loathed to write my own because dammit I just want to read the specific itch I crave without resorting to creating it. Give me three more months and I'll cave in.
For example, Diluc is one of my favorites and I find his backstory fascinating in terms of his father Crepus possibly being more morally ambiguous than most fans are willing to admit and how little we know of Diluc's murder spree in Snezhnaya.
For example which Harbinger(s) did he have a run-in with? Will we find out more about the secret intelligence network that took him in, that he apparently had a high position in? Did he ever find the answers he was searching for? The list goes on.
It's hard for me to find the specific characterization of him I crave for in fics because I think his platonic relationship with Kaeya is incredibly nuanced and complex but I feel like his character often gets assassinated for Kaeya angst but like, the man had the worst birthday ever?
Imagine being Diluc, living through a literal worst nightmare. Your dad is dead after you failed to protect him yourself. Not only is your dad dead but he died after wielding a delusion--you dont even know what a delusion is but its clearly bad news. Why the fuck did your father have it and how?
On top of this, the Favonius Knights--the organization you proudly served and the very organization that your father heavily encouraged you to serve--insists on covering up the truth because it makes them look bad. The Favonius Knights, who are supposed to be honorable and uphold integrity, are anything but that.
Then your adoptive brother, who you've known for years and trust with your life, shows up and tells you he's been spying for a foreign nation since you were kids with the intent of harming Mondstadt and everything about your relationship is possibly all one big lie and well--how do you not snap??
Now, I'm also incredibly fond of Kaeya and he was just as traumatized by Crepus's death. He was wracked with guilt for *feeling* relieved that he didn't have to worry about betraying his birth father for his adoptive father since Crepus was dead. He anticipated Diluc's anger and felt like their duel was a punishment for his lies.
To me, it hints that Kaeya probably didn't reveal the truth expecting Diluc's understanding, but rather he knew how he would react and perhaps he wanted Diluc to strike him down in that duel. Or at the very least, he wanted to distance himself from Diluc and cut off ties in order to avoid emotional attachment stopping him from his mission.
I personally head-canon that Diluc withdrew upon seeing Kaeya's vision because well--why would the gods bless Kaeya with a vision if he truly had the intent to harm Mondstadt? So in spite of what Kaeya revealed, he isn't a threat. But there's still a lot of hurt there to navigate through.
I think it's fascinating seeing where they stand in present game because Kaeya obviously has the ideology of working the system from within. He stayed in the knights (even taking over his brother's position) and with Jean rooted out the Inspector and his cronies.
Meanwhile Diluc just isn't that type of person. He doesn't settle, he refuses to work in a system he views corrupt, he rather accomplish what he can outside of it. Curiously, he doesn't challenge the status quo beyond being vocal of his distaste of the Knights.
This is head-canon fantasyland, but I like to envision Kaeya and Diluc do use a lot of the same informants and collaborate on intel relating to the safety of Mondstadt (especially since Diluc can move in ways against the Fatui that the Knights can't due to political reasons) but they struggle to have the same connection as before.
For example, Diluc's story quest--Kaeya was essentially giving Diluc an alibi with the Knights. Even if Jean damn well knows who it is, they still have to have official documentation stating otherwise.
Kaeya is good at reading people, he has to be given how he was raised to be a child spy. But I like to think he struggles to read Diluc like before. Diluc is much more jaded, pessimistic, quieter than before. He prefers to work on his own as much as possible. From Kaeya's pov, the only person he's seen Diluc willing to fully trust enough to work alongside with is the Traveler, and he states as much.
The opposite is true of Diluc. Kaeya was his shadow, a quiet but inquisitive, witty observer. Cavalry Captain Kaeya is much more outgoing and friendly, his charm on full display. Did he ever really truly know Kaeya or did he only show Diluc what he wanted him to see? Is Kaeya happier this way?
Fanon often depicts Kaeya as essentially being barred from the dawn winery from the duel by Diluc himself, but I don't think that's quite the case. Much rather, given the reason he told Diluc that night, I think he views himself as undeserving due to unresolved guilt.
Canon seems to hint at all of this through his hangout and Hidden Strife, the latter of which is unfortunately a time-limited event that occurred before I even played (hoyo please stop having heavy lore drops occur in time limited events).
I think the two want to trust each other again, but both are afraid of destroying the tentative truce they have so they leave all of it unaddressed. Kaeya refuses to be completely truthful ever again and Diluc acknowledges the past but refuses to discuss it. The tragedy in their relationship that neither is at fault for what happened--it's a twisted emotional mess of grief and heartbreak.
The last point I'd like to touch on is the parallels between Kaeya and Diluc both being essentially child soldiers for their fathers' causes.
For Kaeya, being abandoned in Mondstadt to be a child spy is the most overt. For Diluc? Despite Crepus's strong ambition to be a Favonius Knight and to have a vision--neither happened for him. In Diluc's vision story, it states that he views his vision being a result of their "shared" ambition, hinting that his vision was granted after Diluc's strong resolve to achieve his father's dreams for him.
We know Crepus heavily encouraged Diluc down this path at very young age, given Diluc received his vision at age 10 and became the youngest Captain at age 14. In some ways, I'm sure Kaeya was a bit jealous of Diluc for having a loving father present in his life that was overtly proud of him.
I am not saying Crepus wasn't a good father, I think he cared immensely for Kaeya and Diluc both, but I do think he did some morally grey shit.
Diluc abandoning his vision is fascinating and it's almost never explored in fics. He is the only vision holder we know of (aside from the Inazumauns whose visions were taken by force) that had their ambition for their vision shaken in such a way that they voluntarily discarded their vision for a time and only took it back after reigniting a new ambition to have it (and as far we know the only allogene that faced no negative setbacks from using a delusion long-term without their vision present).
I don't know where to end all of this, except if you have ragbros fic recommendations that you believe cover it in a more nuanced way, let me know!
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respectthepetty · 2 days ago
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wrt joong being emotional on social media (ie public), my personal take isn’t that someone shouldn’t have emotions, but rather that a public figure should be aware that anything the share or tweet in a moment of pique will last forever—not just in an archival sense but in the fandom’s collective memory as well. i come from a background where i am legally held responsible for anything i put on social media that could be ‘damaging’ to my company even if it’s on a personal account. not saying that’s fair or right, but that’s the reality for myself and many others. beefing with someone also signed to your company and intimating and dissatisfaction with your coworkers is something that would personally get me brought before a manager at minimum. again, this is just how it would work for me, but i’m guessing some other people in this fan space may be in similar circumstances and this also see these tweets and insta posts as unprofessional. there’s another possible discussion to be had here about the way society deems anything undesirable in a sort of mental illness-unprofessional venn diagram, but this ask is already long enough.
Anon (if this is the same anon), your response wasn't too long! It was perfect! And so was @waitmyturtles' response because it's getting at what I'm trying to highlight - his behavior could be deemed unprofessional, but not mentally unwell. I understand that the tweets and retweets are crude, but my resistance is aligning that with his mental health.
Just like you, I have a job that monitors my social media activities (if they can be found *wink, nod, Tumblr*), and if I wrote about my department mates the way Joong and Dunk are interacting, my department chair would have me in the vice president's office after the second tweet. I get it. But even if I did shit-talk my department mate on Twitter because she threw a party with my professional enemy (business instructors), I would be displeased if my chair connected that with me being mentally unstable.
There is definitely a "discussion to be had here about the way society deems anything undesirable in a sort of mental illness-unprofessional venn diagram" and after reading yours and turtle's responses, I feel we are all in the same boat, but coming at it in different ways. However, I want to emphasize that regardless of Joong's actual mental health, I do not attribute his social media behavior as a reason to claim he is unwell. Unprofessional? I see it. Unwell? That falls into that Venn diagram of unrealistic societal norms you mentioned, and I think both of us can agree that is unfair for us to place that label on him.
I appreciate your initial ask to me because it let me know that Twitter was popping off during all of this, and gave me more details to add to my "We Got Beef: Joong & Est Edition" pile, but I'm even more thankful you replied to the follow-up question.
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Obsessed with the fact that the A plot of this episode is Jimmy and Kim trying to pin false cocaine charges on Howard while the B plot is Nacho fighting for his life at a motel in Mexico
#Also i have thoughts about gus as per usual but its nothing particularly new#just the fact that he isnt keeping it together super well and if you know what youre looking for its super obvious#like the fact that he knocks a glass on the floor while meeting with tyrus and mike#hes known for being put together and planning everything he isnt the sort of man to make a mistake like that without Something Else going on#obviously its because lalo is still alive because gus doesnt have control of the situation (he really likes to have control of situations)#even though nacho has done everything thats asked of him gus still wants to kill manuel#hes desperate and angry and hes slipping#but like cmon killing your employees father is Not a good way to cope with your feelings pls go to therapy#do you think on some level he wants someone to understand his pain? like obviously he wants people to suffer as he has#but do you think he also wants the connection that comes from understanding#and like i think thats why he was so nice to mike and so horrible to nacho after both of them tried to kill hector#because mike already lost the person he loved most (his son) but nacho hasnt. nacho hasnt suffered enough to Understand#he needs to suffer or he cant stay in the business (even though he doesnt wanna stay in the business)#god imagine being so bitter and hurting so much that you cant stand to be around people who dont hurt the way you do#and imagine not knowing how to deal with the anger and pain in any way other than plotting revenge and hurting/threatening to hurt others#but just imagine having all of that festering inside you for 15-19 years (depending on which show) god#imagine not being able to let go or move on or let yourself be anything other than angry and bitter and in pain after So Long#but i digress#🧪💎
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dangoulains-devotion · 5 months ago
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yuffie has many interesting elements to her but people refuse to move past "i find energetic kids annoying" and it makes me sad
#first of all...... treat kids with the grace + patience you wish you had been given when you were one. just. in general#second.....#god forbid a 16 year old have flaws...! especially when part of the boisterous energy is because she is masking#she has a very strong love for her home to the point she's gone into unknown territory#entirely in over her head! but she refuses to give up#it's an interesting way to look at how patriotism can affect a person when you look at the differing views of protecting wutai that her and#godo have. i'm so interested to see how 'a miserable daughter's homecoming' is gonna go in remake pt 3#given that we know they want to expand on wutai more than they could in the OG#remake intermission as well has been rolling around in my head bc i think its interesting that sonon still wants godo to be respected but#yuffie very much is like. nah fuck that old drunkard idgaf. at least thats how it comes across#i've always felt like the kleptomania was allowed to bloom because she didn't receive enough care or support on top of the patriotism from#young age... so the intermission dialogue makes me wonder if we'll delve into that potentially being the truth in part 3#anyway... rebirth gave such good yuffie + party sibling moments im excited to get more in part 3#especially with vincent because they're one of the funniest not-quite uncle and niece combos#yuffie ringing vincent post-AC and then he goes to cloud like 'tell her that's illegal' instead of just replying to her normally 💀funny af#pettiness off the charts. i adore their 'i do care about you greatly but i'd also sell you to satan for one (1) corn chip' dynamic#ultimately you like and dislike whatever characters#but its always worth looking past the surface level. you may discover that the layers have a unique charm to them#and if the charms don't appeal after that? well at least you now have a better understanding of the character. win/win#god knows i've tried to like characters and came out of diving into their facets -still- not liking them. but more often than not it#gives me some new appreciation of the character. because the depth is there you just have to put the effort in to connect the dots#(this was spurred on by brainless takes i saw in general chat of a public discord. yes i know. my own fault for looking in a godless place)#these tags are 2 short to add proper nuance to my thoughts but you get the idea. this has been my once in a blue moon ramble post o7#might delete later i just wanted the thoughts expelled teehee <3
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stilesstlinski · 2 days ago
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‘Jekyll and Hyde’ wasn’t the most sensitive way to describe Void, but it certainly was accurate, so Stiles appreciated the honesty behind her question. “Yeah. But it’s more than that, y’know?” He glanced down with a sigh, noting that his hands were no longer trembling. Talking to Rose was proving a good distraction, as he’d theorised. She didn’t tiptoe around difficult subjects, or tell Stiles what he wanted to hear, instead of what he needed. He owed her the same in response. “Ever since I died it’s just gotten worse. The not sleeping, the jumpiness. Constantly feeling like something terrible is going to happen, again. It’s like drowning. Do you ever feel like that?” She seemed so put together, but perhaps Rose was better at hiding her anxiety. Or maybe he was right, maybe it was just him. She hadn’t come back with an evil alter ago, after all.
“I don’t, actually.” Stiles interjected quickly, before she continued. It was important to him that she realised he valued her opinion. If he didn’t, they wouldn’t even be having this conversation. He sat in silence from that point, letting her speak her piece. Unfortunately, she wasn’t saying anything he wasn’t already aware of. His relationship with Scott had been strained for months, and it was doing Stiles no favours. Without his brother, his panic attacks were more frequent, as was his loneliness. He felt like half of a whole person, especially considering the pack bond caused it to become a very physical absence. “Yeah. Yeah I know,” he replied, lips pressing together. 
Deep down, Stiles knew that Scott valued him a great deal, and loved him. But his own insecurities and jealousy were hard to dig through, and often in his need for reassurance, Stiles only pushed Scott further away. He hated feeling as though he were competing for his brother’s attention, or becoming a burden. His distrust ruled him, too, finding Scott’s new friends hard to accept. “I just need some time first. I think he does, too.” Alexandria was already proving to be hard work, and there were far more people that needed Scott’s time and assistance. Stiles could fly solo until the dust settled, more than used to his own suffering. “He’s better equipped than everyone, that’s why he’s in such high demand.” Still, Rose had offered her own shoulder, so he wasn’t entirely alone. “We’ll fix it. I’ll — fix it. Just not yet.”
“And you didn’t feel like that before?” Stiles questioned, genuinely intrigued now. Not only was Rose feeling the lack; Dean was, too. Maybe they really did need their bonded counterparts to feel healthy. “I feel sick and tired all the time. Constantly, since I came back.” He nodded, feeling more motivated to find whoever the girl was now, so he could prove their hypothesis. Stiles also found himself wondering why there was distance between Rose and Wanda now, and if the reason related to his own experience with Caroline. Wanda didn’t seem like the unforgiving type, especially in consideration of the circumstances. They’d had no choice, after all. “We need to find out more about who we are. There’s gotta’ be more to us than automatic killing machines.”
“Apparently,” Stiles said, laughing at his own misfortune. His rebirth had been one mystery he hadn’t been able to resolve, yet, and it was driving him insane. He hated the uncertainty, the not knowing. If he could figure it out, he could help himself, and the others, too. Stiles was desperate for the connection that she was describing, so he could truly begin to decipher which issues stemmed from what. His species, his bonded partner, the pack, or his own personality. With so many emotions and voices in his mind, it was no wonder why he constantly felt strung out. 
Rose continued on with her explanation, but in a very sudden rush of fear and adrenaline, Stiles lost all focus. Her speech began to seemingly blur together, no longer understandable. The hands which she’d comfortingly held a moment ago began to viciously shake again, and despite his own confusion, Stiles was certain this wasn’t his own doing. Talking to Rose had eased his worries, and given him some clarity, so this could only be a result of one of the aforementioned stressors. His heart felt as though it were going to pound through his chest, and his saliva started to taste metallic. No, not metallic. It tasted like blood. 
“Rose -” Stiles reached for her, fingers erratically scraping along the table that separated them. By the time he’d gotten close, his vision was gone entirely. “Oh, fu —” His mind followed a second later, transported into that of someone else, and Stiles’ body fell sideward out of his chair, collapsing onto the floor below.
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Rose pouted at the sarcasm, but refrained from rolling her eyes, used to it from him by now. Still, it was hard to tell how honest he was being underneath the attitude, thus how concerned she should be. She hadn’t known him for his whole life, after all. But considering the explanation that came after, Rose decided to trust in the sarcasm. Besides, she’d never seen him this jumpy before. Irritable, yes, but not visibly shaking for a prolonged period of time. “Are you talking about your… uh, ‘Jekyll and Hyde’ thing?” It was the softest way she could think of to word it. Rose had a feeling she was right, of course, but wanted total clarity to help get to the bottom of it. 
As if exampling that very same intuition, her suspicion about the continued rockiness of Scott and Stiles’ relationship proved true. Rose frowned, unsettled to hear it anyway, gaze full of concern. “Stiles… I know you probably think I’m full of shit most of the time, but I need you to listen to me now. You two have to work this crap out, stat. It’s not helping you, and I know without really knowing that it’s not good for him, either. Plus, you know he’d do anything for you. Everyone needs a Scott on their side, and you’re at like the top of his list, dude. Even if all this shit, whatever it is, was his fault, talk to him about this, or I swear to god, I will drag both your asses out and have some gross group therapy. Don’t push me.”
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She sat back with a huff, feeling she was done saying her piece; but it suddenly dawned on her how it might’ve sounded. Rose didn’t want to seem like she wasn’t there for him at all. “— Wait, don’t get me wrong, okay, I’m not trying to palm off all the responsibility onto you two either. Of course you can talk to me, now and whenever, but I just -” She sighed, unsure how to word the lack of confidence she was currently feeling. “I just feel like he’s better equipped to handle this than me, or anyone. That goes for pretty much everything, actually. And he loves you a lot, so that’s a pretty good duo. That’s all I’m saying. And I’m done now, I swear, so if you wanna talk to me, I’ll shut up. I’m listening.”
Rose sighed, feeing it was safe to assume the Caroline thing had something to do with their surprise programming. “I know there’s so much shit we don’t know, and can’t confirm, but… ever since the Capitol, what they triggered in us… I haven’t been around Wanda much. At all, actually. But the longer I’m apart from her, I swear it’s like draining me. I’m exhausted, nauseous, sometimes. And she’s faded, you know? I just can’t feel her as close anymore. It wasn't like that before. Dean told me something similar once, and he’s been looking like real shit lately. He doesn’t know who his connection is either. So, we might be making it up, maybe it’s all coincidence, but maybe it’s not. We felt unwell, like, always in the Capitol.” She shrugged, feeling that sense of intuition again. “This is my roundabout way of asking if you’ve felt the same? Because maybe that’s how you work it out. The closer you are to them, the better you may feel.”
Her concerned gaze returned at hearing his questions, and without thinking about it, she’d instinctively reached out to hold the hand that still shook. “If it’s just you, then we’ll work that out. You’ve got so many people on your side, Stiles, you’re not going to be alone in this. Besides, you’re famous for working things out, right?” At his next question, Rose sat back in thought, having not really thought about it like that. “I guess, in a few ways, yes. Like for the distance thing, I reckon it helps. Does for me, anyway. Also, I guess you automatically become the person who knows them best, so if you get all these foreign emotions, you know there’s something up and can then help get rid of it, so you feel better, too. Does that make sense?”
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unproduciblesmackdown · 5 months ago
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also if only the physical copy of how to disappear completely & never be found i first encountered & read a few years ago (sort of [roughly avg age ten] reader book, not any similarly titled How To) hadn't disappeared completely & not been found since, probably b/c i put it somewhere i intended to be For Safekeeping, which is also how my binder vanished....b/c it's one of those like. those book for late elementary/middle school readers when they just weave in this unrealism which makes for a delightful range & unpredicability? and with a cynical protagonist girl like off to the races like wow her mom is depressed asf & smoking? and it's about A Family History Secrets Mystery so blatantly a haunting that the inciting incident is basically introducing a haunted [family history secrets mystery] house. and spoilers don't matter like it's stemming from there being this missing uncle who grew up so in contrast to the Winsome Winning Sibling Who Does It All Right while seeing his own affiliation with rats that he tried to disappear completely & never be found which led to this Tragedy which led to this more unintended disappearance of his & he haunts this house & wants to be left alone & only goes out at night with this [ambiguous Is That A Giant Rat Or Weird Small Dog (protagonist affected by these family situations who expresses her preoccupation with an awareness of how fate can Strike and Get you with this interest with roving packs of killer chihuahuas. people think she's weird though she spontaneously befriends this other girl struck with this bolt from the blue & a bit weird / outcast & then Insightful who i wish was in it more)] & plays into the hauntedness danger like playing into the [something's Wrong with you then] until having to take yet more action where the urge to express the truth comes out more both b/c living that hidden is more threatened but also b/c now the niece children are more threatened as well. ft. a sort of preternatural blurring of time b/c of only being communicated with through this uncle via his comic pages (that he paints?) of dubiously accurate translations of irl events that are created so quickly it seems to verge on foresight, imagine like "hmm what's this painting. it's me standing in this room looking at this painting??? as someone ominous lurks in the shadows right behind me?" in both [now how could you know this & paint it really fast ahead of time] and [horror]
#i've had good times & thrills & things from other books i've read in the past xyz years & all#but i think this had the best in its final sections with [''uncle rat!''] like that was so incredibly unbelievably hype#and a further ending with a reconciliation that lets the Weirdo still be how they are but with more support lmao#i'm like yeah i want to live in the abandoned house only coming out at night only leaving secret homemade books with Some Truths#yeah i wanna exist in secret passageways & be unseen & uninteracted with & get by despite it all; sure#and disappear (mostly) and (not be found for a while until you have more motivations to help very parallel parties)#and have an affinity & affiliation with animals ppl are also like oh weird bad gross Never Want To See Them who are scroungily around#not implied to be a supernatural connection rather than just like. oh this person is a friend. from chihuahuas; rats; coatis....#also the How To & Never Be book's like core event to The Mystery is. truly so tragic lmao my god. it's really great#i'll just see about reading a digitization somewhere b/c i am Not gonna be able to find it#and the uncle is So mysterious that like. you don't get many Interactions w/him & are just going off of these emergent factors#the situations as they are as consequences of prior events; that he Is this withdrawn & communicating As some haunting monster etc#the way you technically don't also get to know like [what was bruno like prior] Directly W/Promised Accuracy and yet#the [metaphorically i mean] angle going on for everyone like perceiver truth teller Weird Odd One Out yeah yes#bit like [ :) (devastation)] verse talking abt him through a ''so your disabled relative'' lens (who also even w/magic was Just Existing)#here's a guy just existing like :) = my god this absolutely sicko who would even do something like that lmfao. god we've all been there#grappling with [tendencies] they couldn't understand....many things + just the way bruno approaches Speaking is like. okay.#my man's autistic. highest honor i can bestow. among other plausible ways of being disabled / nonconforming / abnormal#also the highest honor....rat affiliated disappeared uncle in How To? well he's really simply not possible ''yes he is Normal(tm)'' so
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personasintro · 4 months ago
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Mutual Help | 59
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↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help
⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader
⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn
⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, explicit content
⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 18.5k+
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⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢ 
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Sometimes you decide on things by feelings or whatever seems right at that moment.  
You might've suggested something that has bit you in the ass right back. It didn't feel as satisfactory as it perhaps should have when you hinted on meeting new people. Although, it's a great opportunity for both of you to move on, even though just the thought alone leaves a bitter taste on your tongue. 
Not even the alcohol on it tastes as bitter. 
Regardless of what kind of opportunity it turned out to be, you had to do it. You're slowly losing it and being in Jungkook's presence alone is not helping. 
A jealous kind of person is not what you would describe yourself. When the word jealous comes to one's mind, they think of someone being possessive jealous in the worst kind of way.  You might've been possessive about people around you, but in a healthy way. 
Sure, the thing with Ester is not the greatest example of it, but that was something different. 
There's something building up, something you haven't experienced with Jungkook before. You were jealous in the friendliest possible way. You don't want to dwell on it more than necessary, but with Ester, you were scared of her becoming Jungkook's close friend. It sounds terrible this way, perhaps a little toxic too – it's hard to describe and put it into the right words so one could understand it clearly. There are parts where even you don't understand it.
You're confident about what you and he have. From the moment you met to the point where your friendship is at. Even that is a bit debatable, but you don't want to go there. Not right now. And possibly not in the near future. There are certain things you don't want to think about. 
Ones you're scared of.
Still. Seeing Jungkook having another friend who he genuinely gets along with, in a meaningful way caused you to act on the void you felt. 
But jealousy is a human emotion nevertheless. And you totally hate it at the moment. 
Because there's no Ester or any possible special friendships to be made. This is different. 
Why the fuck you hate staring at Jungkook and Nara. That's what she's named and introduced herself as when she happily sat behind Jungkook, holding his waist as he drove them through the small waves on a jet ski. 
Clearly, sharing a meaningful connection called friendship is not on top of her list. She's smiling the entire time they talk about whatever, even though it's the most casual topic. She's not the typical giggling type that smiles to whatever that's being said just to flirt. She seems genuinely interested in Jungkook. Maybe a little bit too much. 
Okay, definitely. 
Tap. Tap. Tap.
You tap your fingers on the table, sun setting down as you watch Jungkook and Nara taking a fucking walk along the beach. You hate that after three drinks, you still have your stomach crumbled and twisted around.
There's no reason for you to be mad at Jungkook. You told him to meet people. You freaking hinted about him trying to get it on with other people. Okay, maybe you're irritated he took it seriously and clearly goes for it a little too soon. You also told him you'll be fine here while they go on a walk alone.
“So it's just you two here?” Gabriel asks next to you, catching your attention for the hundredth time in the past three hours. Yes, that's how long you've been spending your time with them. 
They're fun and friendly. Nothing bad about them. Clearly young people who want to have fun. They're relaxed, fun and outgoing. 
So why the hell would you rather have Min Yoongi here than having to witness all of this?
Mentally shaking your head at your ridiculous thoughts, you turn to Gabriel and tear your eyes off those two. You give him a stare that tells him enough about your suspicion by that sudden question. 
“Relax, I'm just asking.”
“And I should believe you because?” you question him. You might've appeared slightly cold toward him. You're not sure if his friendliness wants to aim somewhere else and to something more, or he's just that outgoing. 
Clearly, he doesn't want to back away because he's been very persistent. You give him that. 
There's a slight spark between the tug and pull game. But it's not the one you're looking for. 
“Because I'm telling the truth.”
There's chatter and laughter going from the other people you've been introduced to. You don't remember all of their names though. You hope you won't have to see them after this. God, that sounded so harsh. They're nice, you swear! But!
They don't give you any attention which makes your conversation slightly more comfortable. 
“You're still a stranger. How do I know you're telling me the truth?”
“So just believe me–”
“That literally goes against–”
He laughs. He's handsome. Has a sharp jawline and a cute smile. “You're a piece of work.”
“I know. I'm amazing.”
He can't seem to drop his eyes off you. You've experienced those before. Which is why you're not sure if he's honest about that or if it's the trick of flirting with you. It seems like men always have some kind of ulterior motive behind their behavior. 
You don't hate men. Even if it looks like it. You just don't trust them. 
Unless they are Jungkook, Jimin or Taehyung. 
Surprisingly, at least Gabriel doesn't annoy you in the Min Yoongi type of way. He's nice, not pushy and annoying which you appreciate. 
You glance at him fully, both of you chuckling at your ridiculous conversation. 
There's a deeper meaning behind his question. For the first time, he showed more of his prying persona. You can't blame him. It was bound for people to question it. You've grown used to it.
“Yes, it's just me and Jungkook.”
He nods, already knowing this but traces his glass. He had one beer an hour ago and after that one, he switched to lemonades. Somehow, you find that a little attractive. 
“Our friends were supposed to go with us, but it didn't work for them unfortunately.”
He already knows you're staying at one of the beach houses, which to their expressions, they were a bit surprised to hear that. It's a more expensive side of the beach and while they're staying nearby, it might sound suggestive that you two alone are where families and lovers mostly stay. 
“Didn't work how? What if it's their way to get you together alone?” 
His question has a light tone full of teasing and suggestion, knowing exactly where this is going. He's trying to figure out your relationship with Jungkook, probably not believing two best friends that are on a vacation are only that. Friends. Well, that's quite debatable in all ways but you're not exactly going to share a full depth of anything related to your actual relationship to Jungkook. 
Gabriel doesn't give you any vibes of being a snitch, but he's still a stranger. A handsome one but not even his pretty face could make you spill the tea. Anyway, he's definitely not asking because he's skeptical but mostly asking for himself. 
You would've had to be blind and dumb not to notice his undeniable attention and interest aimed toward you. It's flattering and a compliment, really. More than anything else.
“Well, one of them ended up in a hospital with broken toes, so I would like to think he didn't do it on purpose.”
“Ouch.”
“Exactly,” you deadpan, sipping more of your drink. 
He grins. He has a cocky twist to his smile. There's no denying he's a catch wherever he travels.
“Even though, you never know with him.” you say, watching Gabriel's confused look before you shrug and chuckle under your breath. 
Taehyung loves himself too much to hurt himself. No matter how much he would love you and Jungkook messing around more.
Speaking of him, you glance back at the couple walking down the beach. There's nothing special or weird about it. They're just walking beside each other, there's even some distance between them now. Is Jungkook listening to your previous words and just trying to – you don't even know how to name it. 
Is he trying to get to know someone else in hopes of getting more?
Is he planning to hook up with anyone from this group? 
Because he totally could and there would be nothing you would do about it. But why should you in the first place? It should not bother you. You should be in the front row hyping him up to do it. You should smack his shoulder and tell him to go for it, like all the guys do.
So why can't you?
You believe it's because you've never experienced anything similar to what you have with Jungkook. Obviously, he's more than the sex God you've portrayed him as in your head. He's definitely more than that. But speaking just about that alone, the thought of him going for someone else and showing that side of him to some stranger he just met, honestly bothers you. It's too soon. And you know if you weren't too thoughtful, you wouldn't be in this position because you would've kept hooking up. 
You wouldn't have to worry about him suddenly having sex with someone else. He would never do that when he's intimate with you. 
Fuck. Why are you even thinking of all of this? 
You did what was best for you and him. At the end of the day, it's just a matter of time before something like this happens. And you know it will and you're going to be okay with it. You will move on.
But perhaps you rushed into it. You've panicked and indirectly told him to just have fun. Without you. In that exact sense you're thinking of. 
He's smart. Of course he caught onto the meaning right away and something tells you he's doing exactly that. You can't even be mad at him because you told him. You were the one who encouraged and pushed him to move on.
“I didn't mean to pry,” Gabriel speaks up, reminding you of his presence and your cheeks heat up even more under the sun that's barely up there.
You try to cover up your staring by looking at the sea before finally looking at him. He couldn't see the exact direction of your vision, but he could've guessed because they're right there. 
“I just find it interesting.”
“Interesting?” You frown in confusion.
“You two.”
“What's so interesting about two best friends? Because one is a female and the other male?” 
His brows shoot up, catching up onto your slightly offended tone. “I didn't mean it like that.”
“How did you mean it then?”
He hesitates, but your lifted brow that demands a response causes him to lick his lips as he sighs. “You've been checking him a few times now.”
You grit your teeth together. Not because you're offended that he indeed noticed, but you're embarrassed that he did. 
“I've been checking on my best friend.”
“Alright, alright,” he chuckles, trying to play it off as he puts his hands up in surrender. “I wasn't really trying to suggest something else. I just noticed that your friendship seems… special.”
“And it is.”
He nods, wrapping his hand around the drink as he picks up on the small droplets. “Nara won't bite his head off. She's cool.”
“I wasn't suggesting anything else.” You throw his words back at him. He notices, the left corner of his lips twisting in a smirk but he doesn't say anything about it. 
“Would your friend bite my head off though?”
You arch your brow at him, “And why would he do that?”
“I don't know, maybe for trying to get to know you?”
“You're getting to know me.” you point out, knowing what he's hinting at but you're playing it off. An amusement dances in your eyes and he sees it, his smirk only getting bigger but the determination of getting straight with you is even bigger. 
“I am.” he hums. 
“Well, I can't promise anything. Jungkook is protective.”
“Surely he would understand I don't have any vile intentions. I mean, you're single, right?”
You gulp, stopping for a moment. You could possibly make some kind of situation. You're single but you weren't exactly free and down to meeting someone else. For multiple reasons. You could tell him you just got out of… relationship that had nothing to do with dating. Simply said, you could tell him you had a fuck buddy and now you're just focusing on yourself.
But considering your previous topic, he could easily catch on and for some reason, you don't want to risk it. You don't want any strangers knowing about you and Jungkook. It seems awfully personal and intimate.
“I am.” you mutter.
“So? He can't chase all men away from you.”
And he probably won't. 
“I don't know… he did punch a guy for me.”
“What?” he deadpans. 
You chuckle, “He was my ex. Said some nasty stuff. Kook didn't like it.”
“So he… punched him?”
“Mhm,” You take another sip. “He did deserve it though.”
“I would never say nasty stuff about you. Or any woman.”
What are you supposed to do with that information?
“Never say never.” you shrug. 
“No, I mean it. I wasn't raised like that.”
“I don't think he was either. But sometimes we don't know ourselves. And sometimes we can surprise ourselves too.”
“I get that, but if your friend had to punch him for it, he obviously wasn't good.”
You look at your drink that's slowly disappearing. You should slow down. “He's not a bad guy.”
“Doesn't sound like it.”
You roll your eyes, “You've got an answer for everything, don't you?”
“You seem to be just the same way.” he points out.
“You've known me for a few hours, Gabriel. I could be a total bitch or a completely different person than you've made up in your head.”
“And that's why I would like to know you more.”
You stare at him. 
Having to be in similar situations a few times, this time feels slightly different. Even though he's determined, he's not annoyingly pushy. He's good looking and has something in him that makes you flattered that he's not backing down. Showing a clear interest in you is not something you would gag at or roll your eyes like you usually would have. 
“So if I wanted to invite you for dinner, lunch… whatever you want it to be, would you go?”
“Are you asking me on a date, stranger?”
He chuckles, shaking his head. “I'm asking to hang with you and get to know you.”
“Umm, isn't that the definition of a date?”
“Could be,” he shrugs, “But I'm from Italy and you live on the opposite side of the world.”
“Exactly.” you point out. 
“Oh come on, just say no if you don't want to.”
“Are you looking for a hook-up, Gabriel?” you question him, not wanting to beat around the bush. Somehow, you know he's honest but you have a hard time believing he's just interested in getting to know you. 
Why? 
Like he said. You live in different countries and both of you don't look like the type to have a long-distance relationship. 
He starts coughing, taken back by your sudden straight-forwardness before he laughs, finding some amusement in it. “If you want to.”
“Is that why you want to get to know me?” 
“No.”
You look at him skeptically, “I'm sorry, I just find it hard to believe.”
“Then I'm disappointed by the man you've encountered.” 
“Hey, I have amazing men around me.”
Two of them probably broke more hearts than any of these people in this group, but they're amazing men regardless of it. It's the fact they never did it intentionally. And Jungkook is the definition of a perfect guy. Perfect in terms of loving and thoughtful person who would give everything to his loved ones. 
“Never said you don't. You love your friends very much, don't you?”
That goes without a question. He sees the look on your face and it causes him to smile. For some reason, he seems smitten by you. Of course he does, look at you. You're amazing.
“You could say they're my second family.”
Perhaps if they were actually here, things would've been a lot different. That goes without debate. 
Taking in the silence that follows, you can't help but glance in the direction where Jungkook and Gabriel's friend are walking down the beach. However, they no longer are and instead you find him taking pictures of her. She makes poses, showing off her toned and tanned body. And then she walks up to him, clinging to his side as he shows her the results. She seems to be impressed, as far as you know, it's hard to see it clearly from this distance. 
And it's for the better, honestly.
“Listen, it doesn't have to mean anything more. Just us hanging out over a good dinner… or a lunch.”
Gluing your eyes back to Gabriel, which seems to be the safer choice, your eyes run over his features as you take a breath – realizing your stiffened posture before you relax.
“I don't have any sick intentions.”
“You know… you constantly making sure I know that kinda makes it harder to believe you.”
He laughs, shaking his head as he smiles at his drink. Your teasing brings some peacefulness into this conversation again. “Just let me know your decision. Take your time.”
You give him a smirk, knowing you're kind of running out of time. Both of you know it and that's why you both grin at each other. Before any of you can say something, the approaching chatter interrupts you. Jungkook and Nara join you, she says something which makes Jungkook smile and that's when he looks up. Your eyes meet and you straighten yourself, ignoring the way your heart squeezes.
“What's up,” Gabriel says next to you, looking at Nara who seems to joyfully sit down and take a few sips of her drink. 
“Got some nice shots. Jungkook here is pure talent. I'ma show you later.” she says, smiling at Jungkook at the compliments she's giving him. 
The corner of his lips turn slowly up before he glances back at you. Looking away, you poke the back of your front teeth with your tongue.
“What's your plans for tomorrow? We were thinking of visiting the water park here. It's brand new and apparently very fun. You wanna join us?” Nara asks, reaching for a bowl of fruit that Gabriel has ordered. “Anyone?” she points at the bowl. 
Everyone shakes their heads before her previous question still sits in the air. She glances between you and Jungkook, awaiting your answer.
Once again, you look at each other without saying anything. 
“They probably have different plans, Nara.” Gabriel notes, shrugging.
Not wanting to let them know about the lingering tension that somehow remains between you two, you take matters into your hands and give Gabriel a smile. “We don't yet, not definite but we'll think of something.”
They seem to be settled with that before the conversation moves to something else. Somehow it seems unfinished and by the time you and Jungkook are alone, walking back to your beach house, the feeling intensifies.
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“So what about tomorrow?” 
Jungkook is the first one to speak up once you get inside, a few minutes spent in silence after both of you are finished with your shower. You cut strawberries for yourself you got at the market earlier this morning. 
“I don't know. We don't have any clear plans, do we?” you hum.
“We could look around the Island. See what's up there and decide then.”
“Sounds good.” 
Jungkook stands behind you, in a safe distance but you can feel his eyes burning your back. However, he doesn't make a sound before a silent sigh leaves his mouth.
“Then what?”
“What then?” you frown, focusing on your cutting as he walks up to you. He leans against the counter with his lower back, crossing his arms over his chest. Luckily, he has put a t-shirt on. One second staring at him topless and you would be done for.
He's staring at you. You know he is, yet your eyes stay glued to the cutboard while you're taking your time with cutting the strawberries more precisely than it's necessary. “The water park. You wanna go?”
You halt, pursing your lips slightly. “Do you?”
He sighs again, “I think it would be a nice plan if we feel like it after we're done with the sightseeing.”
You stay silent before he taunts;
“Don't you?”
Your jaw clenches, “I think you should go if you wanna go so badly.”
He laughs sarcastically, “What?”
Fuck. You and your mouth. Composing yourself, you shrug before you put down the knife. “Didn't they want to go during the day?”
“Nara told me they will probably go in the afternoon. The heat is supposed to be crazy tomorrow, it's better to go later in the day.”
Of course, she did. Anything so she could go with Jungkook. 
While that little comment sounds bitter in your mind, you do know Nara wants him to go. And you should not feel angry or annoyed at it. Maybe that's not why you're annoyed at it at all. It's simple knowing that Jungkook wants to go. 
So forcing yourself to smile, you get the courage to stare him in the eyes. “You go if you wanna. I've got plans in the afternoon.”
Silence. For a split second. 
“What?”
Another follows and you wet your lips as you shrug. “I'm going out with Gabriel.”
Well, he doesn't know it yet. He's waiting but you're guessing he will be more than glad to skip the water park. If he doesn't, that's going to be incredibly embarrassing for you and your ego.
Jungkook tongues his cheek, looking away as he scoffs silently. But the overbearing silence makes it ten times louder. “I see.”
“Jungkook–”
“Is this how it's gonna be?”
You gulp, “What do you mean?”
“We came here to spend time together but we spend it separately? Is that how desperately you want me gone?”
“Jungkook!”
He lifts his hand up, the point finger up as he motions for you to be quiet. “I'm going for a walk.”
“You don't have to–”
You don't get to finish it, he brushes past you and is gone before you can take another breath. 
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One of the worst habits you possess is the need to spill out anything that bothers you to someone. That someone is in most cases Jungkook, purely because he gives the best advice and comfort to anyone who needs it. He never judges and he just… gets it. He's that person you come to and can tell him anything, somehow the words he says or his mere presence is helpful enough.
For clear reasons he's not available – nor would he be suitable since he's the main reason why you're bothered in the first place. You're the one who messed up. For a moment you wondered whether you should go after him, to talk it out like any healthy person would do. But once you got out of the door, he was nowhere and to be walking alone around the Island with no one by your side is not something you wish to risk. Even though it seems to be safe here, you know he wouldn't be happy if he came back and you weren't here.
Or maybe he wouldn't care. 
You would like to think he would. It's still Jungkook. No matter how many times you fight or there's tension, it's still him. But it feels wrong to count on this all the time, even though it's basic knowledge.
Sure, you've got other friends. 
You wouldn't want to include Maya here. Purely out of knowing what her response might be – you've got to be a little selfish here because you know that's not something you want to hear right now. Anyway, she's probably planning her wedding or spending time with Namjoon. It feels rather awkward to be reaching out just because you find yourself in trouble. By your own responsibility.
But right after Jungkook, Jimin and Taehyung came. 
Jimin is someone who gives you the hard truth, sometimes even scolds you but with the greatest intention. That's not something you need right now either way.
And Taehyung?
He makes everything look easy with the way he sees the world and particular problems. There is barely any problem in his world. He says fuck it on most things with his optimistic persona. He simply just doesn't care. 
Therefore, he's the safer choice than Jimin.
Luckily, once you call him and he's alone, you briefly mention the issue here. You kept it safe for your own sake or selfishness. However, you didn't have to mention anything because he questioned Jungkook's absence right after he complained about Jimin and the fact he brings his girlfriend almost everywhere.
When even Taehyung is silent, you're glad you've chosen a phone call instead of a video one. 
“So, let me get this straight… you go to Hawaii together but you're about to spend it separately?”
“Well–just tomorrow afternoon. I didn't think it's such a big deal.”
“But you purposely encouraged him to–I don't even know how to call it–go and find fun somewhere else?”
You gulp, regretting now that Taehyung's words bite you in the ass. He's right though. “We met this group of girls and–I didn't want him to focus on me only. I want him to have fun.”
Okay, that's half of the truth but it works. You did more for yourself than for Jungkook, naively believing that it will be better for him. But that backfired and it seems he doesn't feel like it's better for him.
“And didn't it get through your pretty head that maybe, just maybe, he wants to have fun with you?”
“Tae–” you sigh.
“Not that kind,” You can tell he has rolled his eyes. “He just wanted you two to have fun in there. I'm pretty sure he didn't think with his dick when he wanted you to go.”
“I didn't say that.”
“I know, I'm just saying.” he hums, “Maybe he feels rejected?”
“What? You think so?”
“I think Jungkook has had a lot planned for the two of you and he imagined he would spend it with you. Not with both of you having fun with someone else, instead with each other.”
“I thought it's better this way.” you mumble. 
Silence follows and you're not sure whether Taehyung heard or not, but you hear his soft sigh on the other end. “You do your thing tomorrow and he will do his. Or just spend the afternoon the way you wanted, just with each other.”
“You make it sound so easy.”
“Because it is.”
“Tae, we were invited. I was asked for lunch–or dinner–whatever.”
“So? Fuck anyone else,” There it is. “Anyway, is the girl hot?”
“What.”
Taehyung laughs, “The girl that so seemingly goes after our Jungkookie.”
“I never said she's going after him.”
“You didn't have to, babe. It's clearer than Jimin's questionable choice of a girlfriend.”
“You're being rude, leave Jimin and his girlfriend alone.”
He snorts, laughing as you join. “I would ask you to send me pictures of the girls, but I kinda don't want to. I would regret not being there.”
“Can you not think with your dick when your friend here is in crisis?” you mutter.
“You got yourself there, hun.”
“You're not helping.” you grit through your teeth, hearing him laugh.
“Look, just talk to him. You guys communicate well. Well–it's bumpy these days but you got it.”
“How's your leg?” you ask instead, listening to Taehyung's complaints while your mind is elsewhere.
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When Jungkook doesn't come within an hour, you're seriously starting to get worried. He has left in a hurry, therefore has forgotten his phone that mockingly sits on one of the small tables. Even though he's a man, you're worried for his safety no matter how safe this Island seems to be. 
Just as you're about to grab your things and go search for him, the door clicks open and there he is. 
Head low and almost looking like a kicked puppy, you debate whether to jump on him to hug him or slap him for making you so worried. If the roles were reversed, there's no doubt that he would search the entire Island for you. And that's not exaggerating at all. 
Yet, you stand there – waiting for him to look up and be stopped by the glare you're giving him across the room.
“Where the hell have you been?”
You're angry. More at yourself than anyone else, but him scaring the shit out of you comes handy at the moment. 
You know that defeated look. You both hate fighting. It's crazy you've never been through such hard times in terms of fighting than you have in the past year. Sure, looking at it optimistically, you've learned to communicate better. Sometimes. 
Not particularly now. And you know some of it is mostly your fault now. 
Being honest means much more than just that. 
However that once mentioned defeated look is long gone. As soon as that tone and words leave your mouth, he glares at you with those intense dark eyes. 
It doesn't matter that you sound like a mother scolding his son for coming home late. 
“I went for a walk.” he says calmly, but there's something on the tip of his tongue. And his face says it all. I told you that.
You scoff. Before anything else can be said, he simply walks past you and you watch at the spot he just stood at in complete disbelief. 
“That's it?”
“What else do you want me to say?” he offers, giving you I don't give a fuck attitude as he plops on the couch and stretches his legs on top of the table.
He grabs his phone and scrolls down through his notifications. He must know he forgot it here. There's no way he doesn't know now. But there's no sight of realization or anything. He simply seems like he doesn't care.
Not about that and certainly not about you stomping to the room. 
“Are you serious now?”
He looks up from his phone, moving only with his eyes and you're stunned for a second. He's waiting. 
“If I stormed out like that, you would give me hell for it!” you scold him.
“I told you I went for a walk. We both needed to cool off.”
You fumble over your words and try to make sense of them. 
His eyes say it all. It looks like you haven't.
“Yeah, without your phone and you were gone for an hour!” 
You watch him stare at you for a moment, sighing as he tosses his phone on the couch. “I'm sorry.”
The surprise on your face is evident. 
“I forgot it. Didn't realize I was gone for so long.”
Well, an hour isn't so long but yeah, it felt like it. Especially the way he left.
You relax, a soft puff of breath leaving your lips before you nibble onto them with your teeth. You come closer, your knee resting against the armrest. 
“I will cancel on Gabriel.”
He frowns, almost confused why would you do that. For a split second you feel embarrassed. 
“So we can spend more time together.” you elaborate further. 
“You don't have to do that out of pity or whatever.” he points out.
This is stupid. You're stupid.
“I'm not doing it out of–”
“Besides, I have a few plans throughout our stay here. Starting from tomorrow.”
“What,” you deadpan, hating the weird pressure and intuition that rises every second until he proves it right.
“I arranged it with Nara.”
It's dead silence for a moment. You're letting the information sink in until you breathe out in even bigger disbelief.
“What,” It's quiet, almost painful before you glance at his phone. “Your phone stayed here.”
“Met her during my walk.”
Oh, and she so accidentally appeared right where you were, huh?
He's not looking at you, staring at nothing in particular with a distant gaze. 
“So let me get this straight–” You hold yourself together so you don't burst in anger. “You make a scene for not spending this vacation together and now you just make plans throughout it without me?”
You realize it's mostly said from your point of view and you fucked up, but him accepting it is even more defeating than anything else about this.
“As far as I know, you made plans too. Isn't this a good way of meeting new people?”
He's throwing it back at you. Clenching your jaw, you painfully swallow as you nod. “I see,” you mock his words, “You're right.”
And you walk out of the room – not knowing whether you should strangle him or yourself first. Only time can tell.
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It's safe to say that sometimes your intention escalates and creates a new wave of something that can hardly be described positively. A part of you blames yourself for opening your mouth, even though your own intention behind it was not wrong. It wasn't supposed to cause any of this.
Already embarrassing as it is, having to lay next to Jungkook throughout the entire night has been another level. You've been tossing around, wondering if he's doing the same whenever you fall asleep for a few minutes until you're awake again. Seems like he's not particularly doing bad, but once again, there's an argument between you that has been maybe talked about, but definitely not solved. 
You stick to your plans that have been planned out for most of the day. You've gone sightseeing, fed rescued animals and even visited local museums. Basically, done activities where other people mostly talked and you both listened – you were just there. Standing next to each other, walking beside each other but if it wasn't for these facts, some might think you were strangers.
And that thought that randomly crossed your mind hurt. 
But you're just as stubborn. 
This is for the better. Sure, you should probably make a mend, it would definitely make things easier and better. But you will try to focus on other people as well. Being with Jungkook alone on this vacation – well, it's not like you have many opportunities to focus on anything else.
But that could change. And it can change. 
It's for the best. You both got distracted. Preferably with each other. 
So when the time comes, you both end up at the beach nearby the beach house you're staying at. However, this time it's for you to get separated and each go your own way. Gabriel's friends are already there, wearing their swimsuits and covering it with thin layers of clothing. And then there's Gabriel as well.
You texted him, agreeing to the dinner but proposed to meet sooner. The truth is, you couldn't be alone at the house knowing where Jungkook is. It would eat you alive to be alone with your thoughts of blame and regret. 
You have no idea where you will be going, perhaps more sight-seeing but you hope Gabriel has something planned out at the last minute. Sight-seeing reminds you of Jungkook as well, since you've spent your entire morning until midday.
You have not spoken ever since you came back. You both showered and changed clothes, here you are. Perhaps you've spent more time on your make-up. Your skin is glowing, covering everything that is laying beneath much deeper.
Summer dress with slightly low cut cleavage felt like the right choice. It's perfect for day time, could be great for night time as well and most importantly, you're not trying to look overly hot. This dress is practical. 
And you have no idea what's up with men and summer dresses because you feel like you attract men's eyes as soon as they can make out your figure. Gabriel is speechless, though he's grinning and doesn't fail to give you a compliment. 
Before you know it, Jungkook and Gabriel's friends bid you two a goodbye. Well – mostly Gabriel's friends because Jungkook is awfully quiet and doesn't even spare you a glance as he chats with Nara. 
Jaw clenched, you turn around and smile widely at Gabriel. “So what's the plan?”
“Mm, don't kill me but I thought we could get a snack or something, wait–have you eaten?”
“I have,” 
During lunch time with Jungkook. No matter how intense it seems to be between you, he still made sure you've eaten something. It's hard to be mad at him. But one memory of what happened just seconds ago is enough to make your features harden, just like your heart does.
“Have you?”
“I have,” he answers, “Cool, we can go to that dinner I promised you.”
You give him a slight chuckle, both of you walking nowhere specific. 
“But maybe we could go to the water park as well?”
“What,” you stop, chuckling nervously. The whole point of going out was not to be in Jungkook's presence. “The others just left.” You point behind you, pretty sure they are no longer there. 
“I kinda hoped we would go there alone.”
You give him a look, causing him to grin as he shakes his head. “Nothing creepy, I swear. Is it bad that I want you all for myself?”
“You will give me creeps if you continue to speak to me like that.” 
He grabs his chest, pretending it hurts there. “Ouch. Is it always so hard to charm you?”
You look away, shrugging. “Not always.”
At least you didn't lie. 
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Best way to distract yourself is to do something. Anything that can't help you from thinking, or even overthinking. You give Gabriel that. Even though he has no idea he indirectly helped you and made your day better, attractions are a good way to just enjoy the presence. You allow yourself and your mind to be present with him. 
You laugh and nicely enough, Gabriel is sweet and keeps his hands to each other. He doesn't give you creepy vibes – you're not sure if you wanted him to. He's polite, gentleman and funny. Everything anyone would like to see in a guy you're spending time with. 
You talk, filling almost every second and moment with words. And yet, still somewhere rooted inside you, you keep looking around, hoping you won't meet Jungkook. Possibly see something you don't want to. You want him to have fun. 
But deep inside you feel like you've pushed him to do this. It's stupid. You proposed something. You never forced him to do anything. But just because it hasn't been done directly, doesn't mean the outcome is not the same. 
And you do it again. So you go to the first attraction you see, the water ride. You take Gabriel's hand, pulling him towards it until you're seated and drenched in water. After you're done, you both laugh at each other's appearance.
“I wonder if they sell towels here.” Gabriel says, praising himself for wearing slippers instead of actual shoes. His shirt is drenched, showing some of his abs. But you're respectful, you're not looking. 
“It's hot, we'll be dry in thirty minutes.” you laugh, squeezing more water from the rim of your dress. It falls down your legs. 
“True–how about–”
“Gab? What are you guys doing here?” 
Coming from the side, you both glance at the way where one of the girls walks with the entire group of Gabriel's friends behind her. Great.
All you hear is Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook. He must be around here but you don't dare to let your eyes travel further.
“We wanted to try some of the attractions too.” Gabriel answers as if it's not a big deal. 
Although he's met with some confused looks from his friends, they're not overly judgy and you get them. None of you mentioned going here before. 
“You could've gone with us. Oh god, did you guys just go on this ride? We went there first, you should've seen us! Actually–Nara and Jungkook just went there like ten minutes ago and–” She starts looking behind her, pointing in that direction but she doesn't have to. 
Your eyes naturally find him there. Walking, unbuttoned shirt that is drenched similarly to your dress. The difference is that you can see his skin, a few droplets here and there as the sun shines on his tanned skin.
“We did–I wanted Y/N for myself, is that so bad?”
And that's when Jungkook looks up, undoubtedly catching Gabriel's words and your stare as well. Seconds pass by and someone keeps talking, but you don't pay attention. Jungkook's eyes travel down your figure before a slight frown settles on his face. 
Looking down, and you hate that you do, you follow his line of vision. The outline of your breasts is visible, nowhere near explicit to the point where anything is visibly clear, but even the slightest perks of your hardened nipples can be noticeable if one truly looks there. This dress doesn't require a bra, the material around that area is thick enough. 
When you were picking this dress, you weren't counting on getting it wet by any means. 
Crossing your arms over your chest, Jungkook stares directly at you this time. Something about his gaze is so intense that you're not sure whether you're naturally nervous or aroused. Fuck. 
“We were just about to get frozen yogurt, you guys wanna join? We'll leave you alone, I promise.” Matt, one of their friends jokes, causing all of them to chuckle just to tease Gabriel. 
Gabriel is not a shy person. He rolls his eyes playfully at them, ignoring them right after before he looks down at you. He's taller than you, not as tall as the man who stands across you and you feel his eyes on you. It burns. 
“What do you say? Frozen yogurt?”
Frozen yogurt is the least of your worries right now. The right thing would be to refuse and come up with some kind of excuse, maybe trying the good old I wanna try more attractions. Just so you could finally escape the burning gaze that is ten times hotter than the sun above your heads. 
But the annoyance that slowly simmers inside you, followed by Jungkook's unpleasant face, changes your mind. Lips stretching into a wide smile, making sure Jungkook sees it and hears you loud and clear. 
“Sure, frozen yogurt sounds great.” Delightful, you want to say. 
The others cheer, clearly happy to have Gabriel join them. You see Matt throwing his arm around Gabriel's shoulders, teasing him, undeniably about you as Gabriel shakes his head and with laughter pushes him away. 
“You havin' fun?”
Jungkook walks next to you, looking ahead and not giving you one last glance. His jaw is clenched and you smile, amused and pleased even. 
“Are you?”
“Wonderful,” he mutters.
“Good.”
“Good.”
Scoffing, you open your mouth but before any remark can make it out of your mouth, a woosh of coldness and pressure causes you to stop in your tracks. Most of it is blocked by Jungkook whom you manage to see turning his back, facing you while he shields you from the impact before your eyes are forced to shut.
The nearby attraction has splashed you, a few more people being a victim of it as they either laugh, curse or freeze in shock. Even your newfound friends who have managed to avoid the splash, gasp in surprise as they stare at the two of you. 
You're fully drenched, every inch of you covered in water as you can feel it drip down your dress. So much for being dressed nicely. 
“Oh my god, are you guys okay?” Gabriel asks, walking over to you.
Though you look up at Jungkook, who stares at you before his eyes drop down to your chest. You know his stare is not an act of lust, more of acknowledgment you should make. You don't have to look. You feel it. 
Your arms cover your breasts, turning to Gabriel to respond to him. However before you're able to utter a single word, you feel a soft touch of hand over your lower back. 
“We have to change clothes.”
“I saw a stand with some clothes where the kids' attractions are.” Nara tries to help, pointing in the left.
Jungkook ushers you to move before you can get drenched any more than you already are. Stupidly, you let him and you hate how you enjoy his hand on you. Maybe it has something to do with Nara watching. 
There are no words said as soon as you distance yourselves from the rest of the group, leaving them up to their activities while there's a suffocating air surrounding you. The burning weather has nothing to do with it this time.
You watch Jungkook pick random shirts and shorts once you get to the stand. The older man who sells it tells you that this happens pretty much often, that's why there are a lot of towels and clothes for sale. Of course, it always has a Hawaiian theme or a water park one. You let Jungkook interact with the seller while you linger behind him, offering him a soft smile in return because that's all you can do. 
“There is a changing room with a restroom around the corner. It's more to the side, so it's not much crowded, in case the lady needs more privacy.” he advises nicely.
Smiling one last time, Jungkook briefly nods as he follows the man's directions and leads you to the mentioned changing room.
He forgot to mention it's a single room. You can still hear screams and laugh from the side, but it's more isolated right now. You get inside, scanning the room. It's spacious. There are hangers on the wall, a basic bin and a sink. A huge mirror is spread across the one wall, the lighting is shitty though. The light bulb weirdly glitches but there is no weird smell in here. You hate public bathrooms, especially at water parks. 
Surprisingly, there's not much water on the floor. The man was right. There are not many people who use this changing room. You've seen a couple of them when you were walking with Gabriel, but you haven't thought much about it. It sort of makes sense now.
The door clicks behind you, causing you to look across your shoulder. “Umm, where are you going?”
Jungkook looks up, brows frowning as he grows slightly offended by the question. “To change?”
His own question holds an attitude and you just stare in bewilderment for a moment. But when he doesn't move an inch, stubbornly standing his ground, you frown as well. 
“Can't you wait?”
“Can't you wait?”
You scoff, almost laughing how childish this situation is. When Jungkook is mad, he can get slightly childish or let you feel all the nice things he does for people, until he stops it just to get petty. Not that you can't complain. You do the same things. 
However, you use your mouth much more than he does. He's more subtle with it. 
“I was here first.”
It's childish, you know it, yet you still point out when you're not sure how to react in the first place. Jungkook laughs under his breath.
“I wanna get out of these clothes as much as you do. Let's turn around and not look at each other.” he proposes, thinking that's the problem. 
Little does he know you could care less if he sees you naked or whatever. You hate the way the water drips down his body, the ends of his hair picking up all the water until it slowly drops and it does the same thing seconds later. You hate how his tan body peeks through the opened button-up. 
He's here. Yet it seems like he's never been further since you came to Hawaii.
All of this is stupid. You've been through much worse back home and you were able to make up.
But there's a lot of stubbornness and until you get there, you'll have to get through this somehow. 
“You think that's the problem?” you question, seeing him giving you a confused look as he starts taking off his button-up. 
He turns around to the sink, squeezing any water access he can from it. You don't move. You just shamelessly stare as he completely unbothered continues to do what he came here to do.
How dare he? Your self-consciousness mocks you.
“And what's the problem here exactly?”
He doesn't even spare you a glance, continuing to squeeze his completely scrunched up shirt.
“Are you seriously asking that?”
“I asked, didn't I?”
You scoff, ready to pounce on him. Not the good kind. 
“There's a thing that's called space.”
The double meaning sits in the air, yet he doesn't look perplexed by it. For all you know, he doesn't even notice it as he bluntly continues his task. It pisses you off. 
“There's enough space between us.” he simply says.
Your chest squeezes, causing you to purse your lips for a second as you breathe out. “You can't be serious right now.”
“I'm not even looking at you,” he scoffs, “I'll just change my clothes and I'm out of here. If you wanna just stand there and wait, you're free to do that.”
The audacity of this man is beyond the words. Is this how payback feels like?
“Oh, got it. You're eager to get out of here.” So you can get back to Nara, you want to add but decide not to. You would sound like a jealous bitch.
Somehow, Jungkook seems to get the hidden meaning behind it, almost as if he could hear your thoughts from out here. He chuckles, it's just the amused look he gives you that barely lasts a second, but it leaves you breathless and all exposed. 
The dress clings to your skin, you want nothing more than to take it off. You don't dare to move though. 
“May I remind you it's you who wanted me so eagerly to be out there?”
It's like you speak in riddles, yet you both know the exact meaning of them. You both don't dare to say it out loud. 
Getting tired of it, but mostly letting out the anger that you mainly hold for yourself, but for the man in front of you as well, you take an angry inhale of breath. 
“What exactly is it that you want, Y/N?” His voice rings loudly in your head, even though there's nothing loud about his tone.
Shakingly breathing out, you quietly point out; “You can't be fucking your best friend, Jungkook.”
The emphasis on your relationship is clear, though all Jungkook does is chuckle under his breath, scoffing. He throws his shirt into the sink, walking up to you. Your breath catches, though you can't almost anticipate once he's close to you. He stops, just centimeters from touching you. You can smell his faded cologne sticking to his skin and you almost crumble. 
“What if I wanted to?”
“Jungkook–”
“You always make a decision without talking to me. It is yours, I respect it,” He stops for a brief moment. He stares your face up and down. “What exactly are you so scared of?”
And the fear comes rushing to you, mainly located in your chest as your hands flinch to squeeze it. You remain standing there, not being able to look him in the eyes. His eyes are on you, you feel every inch of them, the proximity they shine. 
“This is ridiculous.” You try to move past him but he stops you. 
“It is,” he agrees, “Is this about sex?”
“It's not just about that!” you argue, voice hushed and almost scandalized that you're having this conversation in public. You only hope there's no one standing outside, able to hear you. 
You heard Jungkook locking the door, but still – there might be people waiting. 
“I know you,” he says silently but clearly. “I know there's something going on inside that pretty head of yours that you're not telling me.”
“Stop.”
“Are you in love with me?”
You gasp, “What? No!” you push him, palms against his chest but he holds you by your wrist, amused by your sudden outburst.
“So why are you so adamant on pushing me away? All of a sudden, may I add?”
He's asking all the right questions and you despise it at the moment. 
“You can't be fucking me forever, Jungkook. It must've ended at some point.”
“Oh–and you just decided on it without talking to me?” he scoffs, “You just randomly pushed me onto some random chick.”
“If I remember, you're willingly spending your free time with this random chick.”
He grins, though there's nothing genuine about it. It's fueled with cockiness. 
You might realize there's more to Jungkook's reaction. You suddenly start to understand why he's maybe hurt by your sudden twist of emotions. While you never came out of the wrong place, at least your intentions never did, you might understand what his problem is.
He expected you to communicate with him about it. He might be right about that, but you also had your own reasons and yes, maybe you fucked up and it didn't go as planned, but you won't take the blame for all of it. 
It's hard to focus on it though, especially when there's unspoken annoyance and anger dancing around you two. 
“It was your suggestion.” he states matter-of-factly.
One, you regret.
He lets go of your wrists, but not before rubbing it softly with his thumbs. It's a minor detail, one you almost don't notice but it would be a total shame if you would. 
“With a good intention.” 
“And what's the intention?” he asks right away, tone slightly more defensive. “Huh?”
You open your mouth but nothing comes out of it.
Exactly – Jungkook's face says it all.
“To push me away? Because you're too scared to communicate?”
Jungkook's annoyance comes mostly out of this. You've used to communicate and talk about everything. And that brings you to the point. Things have changed. There are minor details, perhaps even more minor than Jungkook's faint touch of affection he gave to your wrists just now. But in these kinds of situations you can perfectly see them. 
Does he not see it?
“Fine,” you spit out, “You want me to communicate? I will.”
“About time!” he exclaims.
“I want you to meet new people. Be open to meeting new people.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” he grimaces. 
“You can't be open to meeting someone when you're fucking me the entire time!” you exclaim back, chest heaving as he looks taken back.
That's all gone as his brows furrow. “That's not your decision to make. When I'm ready to meet someone, I will.”
“That's not what I meant–”
“Really? Because that's all I could gather. If I wanted to be single for years, I easily could and that has nothing to do with you.”
Ouch.
“I know–”
“Do you?” he asks. “Because to me it seems like you don't get it. If you didn't wanna have sex with me so badly, you could've just easily called it off. For the hundredth time anyway.” he mocks the last part.
That's where you gasp and come up to him, invading his space. He doesn't seem to mind.
“But you wanted it, didn't you?”
He taunts you, even though you're in his face, looking angry as ever – he remains calm and has all the control.
“A part of you still wants it. That's why you can't see me with Nara–”
“That's not about her.”
“Is it not?”
“No. I told you to meet people. That's all I wanted, don't you remember?”
He scans you for a moment. “So we're at this point where we can fuck whoever we want?” 
Fuck. You did not expect him to ask this. Nor did you expect to get to this point. You led him to it. You are the reason why he's asking this. You don't blame yourself for this, it's a simple fact. It will happen sooner or later. 
So why the fuck there's an answer caught in your throat?
“Do you want that?” he continues. “I promised you we would go here as friends. No sex. Anything.”
Your throat feels dry, painfully dry that it even hurts to swallow. There's nowhere to escape. There's an imaginary spotlight set on you, Jungkook's determined gaze making up for it. 
“We agreed to come here as friends.”
“That's not what I'm asking.” His response comes quickly.
He stares at you, searching your face for something unknown and you shift under his gaze, causing your own eyes to trail somewhere else. You can't hold eye contact. He waits. But when he doesn't get anything in return, he simply scoffs or chuckles under his breath – you can't tell – and takes a few steps away from you.
His shorts go next, he takes them off and tries to squeeze any excess water. 
“I just wanted you to–I thought it would be a good opportunity for you to meet someone new. It wasn't supposed to come out as pushy or anything.” you murmur gently under your breath. 
He stops for a brief moment, not moving. “How about talking to me next time, yeah?”
You nod, though you're not sure if he sees it. He's not even looking at you. Brows pinched in together, you watch him continue with his task. 
“Noted.” You drop your head low.
“If you want to fuck someone else so badly, just tell me.”
“That's not–” Your reaction comes fast. Eyes wide and mouth open, you shake your head. “You think–”
“Don't you?” he almost accuses you. 
“You think I–” You make air quotes with your fingers, “pushed Nara on you because I wanna fuck someone else?”
“I no longer know what I think.”
“If I wanted to do that, I would.” You assure him, comically using the same words he has used not that long ago. It's the truth. 
“Good to know.”
“Good,” you exclaim. “I guess we can both agree that we're capable of doing what we want.”
“Are we?” 
Your mouth slightly opens. “Huh?”
“Are we capable of doing what we want?”
The shorts join his scrunched up shirt in the sink, knowing Jungkook will wash the hell out of it once he gets back. He loves to do his laundry. But that's besides the point. 
What matters is how Jungkook inches closer to you, his eyes eating you up and noticing you haven't shredded a single piece of clothing. You catch a glimpse of your face in the mirror. Your pupils wide, an expectation screaming out of them while your skin remains wet. Trails of water trailing down between your breasts. 
He follows it before his eyes slowly go up until they meet yours.
“Perhaps it's a curse or talent, but one look at you and I can already tell where your mind's at.”
He doesn't make you feel pathetic. He simply comments but finds some sort of enjoyment in it. The male's ego is never truly gone and you wish you could crash it, verbally using your mouth as you're good at it. It doesn't matter that his implication is true – it doesn't matter you both know it. You would fight and argue, just to compete his ego with your own. 
It seems like you're not able to this time. 
“Yeah? And where's your mind at?” you try to sound unbothered, but the way your chest slowly starts to heave up completely betrays you.
“At the same exact place where yours is. Unlike you, I'm not ashamed to say it out loud.”
He backs you to the counter, nowhere near touching you – yet he does it with a single stare and has you exactly where he wants you. The tip of your toes almost touch, his figure hovering over yours.
Gulping, you try to play it cool. “Go on then. Tell me.”
He chuckles, it's soft but holds amused darkness that's wrapped around his cords. “If you insist.”
You don't. But you play into this fake illusion of not knowing what he's talking about. Just a pure excuse to try and prove him otherwise. To be honest, you might be curious about what he has to say. Jungkook has a good judgment for a character – when it comes to you. That obviously does not apply to his exes.
“I'm supposed to be somewhere else, physically and mentally, but here I am thinking of different ways of having you.”
You stop yourself just in time not to gasp out loud, showing him a vocal reaction other than your heart picking up its pace just at the single thought of it. Let alone having to hear him confess that. 
Clearing your throat, you try to straighten your posture but end up brushing against his chest. You do your best at ignoring it, staring him straight in the eyes. “And that's what I want?”
Don't lie to yourself, the little devil of your consciousness ironically laughs. Of course you know all of this, you just have this urge to prove him otherwise and crush that confidence he has within himself. 
“Please, you're already salivating just from the thought of it.”
Narrowing your eyes at him, you argue: “No, I am not.”
“Tell me,” he cocks his head to the side. “Would you rather bend over the counter or sit on it?”
He sounds nothing but curious, not even feeding to your delusions of him being out of touch with reality. Only he is not. 
“You're an idiot.” you breathe out, trying everything to sound scandalized or offended. You would be able to fool if it was anyone else. But not him.
“For speaking the truth?”
“You're saying it as if I would want that. Listen to what I'm saying.”
He chuckles, shaking his head lightly. “Words are irrelevant when your eyes practically beg me to touch you.”
You know he chose a lighter version of what he would initially say. He wants to be way more explicit, but you're both dancing on the edge.
“You think you know everything when it comes to me.” It sounds ridiculous coming out of your mouth. He doesn't appear to be offended because you both know how much he truly knows you. 
To bring this conversation to a different topic, he chooses to ignore it and simply smiles. 
“So if I were to do this–” He lightly touches the side of your neck, wrapping his hand carefully around it. You inhale shakily, not being able to control it. “Would you tell me to stop?”
He gently massages your pulse that moves under his thumb, watching goosebumps appear on your soft skin. His hand is gone before you can blink, but is soon replaced by his fingertips tracing down your neck, past your collarbone until they stop at top of your breasts. 
“Hm?”
You're not able to react. Your chest heaves, a glare fixated on him but no sound comes out of your mouth. He has you. Wrapped around his fingers, proving his point. Because of his ego and confidence, you know he's proving it to you rather than to anyone else. He can be that annoying. 
Close to leaning toward his touch, the tip of his fingers play with the hem of your dress, occasionally and very faintly touch your skin. His other hand goes down, playing at the fabric of where your dress ends. It goes up, fabric gathering over his wrist. You shudder, mentally begging him to do more.
As if he could read your mind, his eyes look up without having to move his head, dark sinister spark in them. When he doesn't see you protesting, merely making sure of your current state, he does not waste a second and pulls the top hem of your dress. Revealing your breasts, he sucks in breath at the perked nipples. His hold on the dress tightens and within seconds, his mouth is wrapped around your nipple.
“Fuck.” you moan, throwing your head back as you arch into him.
He's like a starving man, perhaps he is from the stupid condition you've made up, but so are you. The other hand grasps the back of your thigh, molding his fingers into your skin as if he wants to leave as many imprints as he can. 
Teeth grazing your teeth, he wraps his hand around your neck once more and makes you look at him. You just stare at each other, not an ounce of shame written on your faces. Your noses touch, your mouth already opened as small gasps similar to moans escape. You beg him to kiss you. 
He doesn't. 
Instead, he drops down to his knees and before you know it, his hands disappear underneath your dress and shamelessly pull down your only piece of underwear. Once that's done, he hoists up your leg over his shoulder and dives in right away. You can barely grab the edge of the sink counter and balance yourself on it, before his mouth is on you. 
“Jungkook–”
You swear you hear him chuckle, but you're too distracted by the shots of pleasure he's attacking you with. He shows no mercy. Fingers wrapped in his hair, you tug onto his roots as he moans against you. 
Nobody does it like you. 
While that thought normally scares you, now you're fucking grateful he's the one that's between your legs. 
You come embarrassingly fast, trying to keep yourself silent from moaning and embarrassingly so, you have no idea whether you've succeeded or not. Jungkook fucks you through it with his mouth, stopping just at the right time as he pulls away.
Lips swollen and red, eyes drinking you up, he effortlessly stands up. “Was this anything relatively close to where your mind was?”
It was far dirtier but there's nothing to be disappointed about. When it comes to orgasm and Jungkook, he never disappoints. 
“I can't complain.” you breathe out, watching how he pulls up your dress and covers your breasts to give you at least some kind of modesty. 
It's a single detail, one he never had to do and you never fully noticed – but no matter what, Jungkook always looks out for you. A blunt apology wants to come out, for numerous reasons of the misunderstanding of your own fears and good intentions, but Jungkook takes a few steps back. 
“Change your clothes, I will wait outside.” he says, quickly changing his own before leaving you up to it. 
You turn around, not being able to let go of the counter as you grip it harder and stare at your face. He didn't even go all the way and you look like you've had the time of your life. 
Once again, you and Jungkook have succumbed to your desires and broken the only condition you've had for this vacation. It should leave you disappointed and perhaps you are little, but you're definitely satisfied for the time being. 
At least until you have to walk out of the door and face the storm in the form of your best friend. 
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Your knees and hands have stopped buckling by the time you've changed into dry clothes. Nothing screams more than a tourist wearing an oversized shirt with a huge label saying “I love Hawaii”, an image of a red heart replacing the word love. It's something you would've worn to bed to sleep in – or at the beach to cover up the least – not parading yourself in it in public. 
The sense of fashion is the last of your worries or things on your mind though. 
Jungkook has waited outside of the door, guarding it safely. After his sudden leave, you did not lock the door which could be a terrible mistake if Jungkook wasn't there to make sure no one walks in. Somehow, you knew he was right behind that door.
The walk toward the rest of the group is spent in silence. As if his mouth wasn't all over your private areas. The memory of it makes an excitement bubble in your stomach, even though it should probably be at least a hint of some kind of regret. 
You do not regret the act itself. Mostly, it's just you being so weak to prevent it. 
Maya would surely get the baggage off your shoulders, supporting this wild decision. But she just doesn't get it. 
Simple walk to find your newfound friends – or whatever you would call them – makes you miss your real friends. You wonder how things would go if they were here. 
Maybe it's just your stupid naivety of believing that it would be different. No matter what, it seems you and Jungkook always find your way to each other – intimately speaking. 
One thing's for sure. 
Jungkook has confronted you. There's truth to both sides. 
Of course the man can have anyone he points his finger at. It was your foolishness to think this vacation was the perfect chance at it. Selfishly, you might've done it more for yourself than for him. 
And what if you would meet someone as well? 
It would certainly make things easier. The decision would be way easier too.
Gabriel is handsome. Hot and charming. Practically the perfect package for a vacation hook-up. And as much as would be leant toward maybe kissing him at least, you can't do that when Jungkook is right there. 
Once you find them, the mood is sour between you and you're not even trying to hide it. Maybe it's the lack of smile and a big portion of silence that makes them notice it. No one comments on it. In fact, you don't think it's worth being commented on. 
Their positivity and good mood continues to be unaffected.
“We dodged the whole frozen yogurt, heard there are these best waffles somewhere around here with fresh fruit. Wanna go there instead?” Gabriel is the first one to ask, eyes finding your figure as soon as you approach them.
In this heat, sweet food or a snack is the least of your cravings. 
“I'm actually not hungry at all,” you respond, feeling guilty for not being up for this idea. 
Gabriel looks confused for a moment, certainly remembering you were all up for frozen yogurt just a few minutes ago. Like the gentleman he is, he doesn't question you but you can see the questions running inside his head. 
Maybe he doesn't want to do it in front of his friends. 
“The heat is killing me.” you add, trying to save it.
He nods, glancing toward the man next to you who hasn't made a move to… move. “Jungkook?”
“I already had a dessert.” he comments, shamelessly staring at the side of your face.
Eyes almost bulging out, you keep your calm and try to not react. Even though Jungkook has not worded it out weirdly to give anyone a big suspicion, it's you and your guilt that makes it think it's so obvious. You wish you could glare at him, but you know there are eyes on you.
“We stopped by the fruit stand, so we had that on our way here.” you lie, straight through your teeth and even though you could be defined as the worst liar ever, this lie comes out sweet and believable. But it's Gabriel's eyes that continue to stare and watch you like you're the biggest open book. 
Fuck.
“Yeah, the fruit here tastes nice.” Jungkook continues and you do everything in your power not to smack him across that bratty mouth. Mouth you wish you could have kissed. 
You give him a look, but he just cocks his brow at you. “Yeah, Jungkook came up with this idea–”
“Did I?”
You glare at him, “Anyway–sorry, I know we wanted to go there together.”
“It's fine,” Gabriel laughs, “We're still gonna get it. You guys are still going with us, right?”
“Yeah, sure!” you force yourself to smile, joining Gabriel as you feel Jungkook's burning gaze on your back. 
That's until you hear Nara's voice behind you, making a casual conversation between them and diverting his attention elsewhere. 
Once the sun is slowly setting down, you part ways and go back to the beach house in silence. No difference happens once you're inside, just the two of you. 
The past two hours spent with people you've met here felt like a torture. That's what you at least thought until you and Jungkook continued to pass by each other as you two are getting ready. Comically enough, not to go somewhere together but with different people.
He kept his word and accepted Nara's offer to go out tonight. Whether he's doing this to piss you off or because he wants to is unknown to you. Perhaps there was a slight hope that you two would just come to an agreement to cancel and go somewhere together. Even staying inside would be enough.
Once Nara asked Jungkook if their plan is still on and Jungkook so shamelessly confirmed, all the hope left as soon as it came. Gabriel has done the same with you and there was nothing other for you to do, then to agree.
It's a pure comedy. If there was a third person just watching the two of you, they would have the time of their life. Somehow you can imagine Taehyung here, sitting on the couch as he judges you two but stays entertained throughout the entire time.
After taking a shower, you end up doing your make-up in the living room with the smallest mirror you've brought on this vacation. Your previous plan of doing it in the bathroom where there is a massive mirror has failed as soon as Jungkook uttered his need to use the shower as well. 
You're not sure if he's done it on purpose, but he sure as hell took his time there. You're putting on the lipstick when he finally decides to get out of there.
Both of you stop.
He's wearing an all white – button-up with shorts that reach just above his knees. Shorts you didn't even know he owns. He looks elegant, yet casual just for the hot weather even though there's a slight darkness outside. His slicked back hair definitely helps.
Jungkook's eyes fall down on your figure. You're wearing a simple short black dress but the gold necklace and red lipstick adds a pinch of sexiness to it. None of you are overdressed or could win the outfit of the year, yet you can't keep eyes off each other. 
You're the first one to break it, standing up and tidying up your make-up stuff that's all over the table, but not before raising a provocative brow at him. He scoffs as he walks past you without any word, his cologne the only thing left and lingering. Out of his sight, you close your eyes and breathe out the gathered breath in your lungs. 
The two of you leave at the same time, in different directions to different people.
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The restaurant where Gabriel has taken you is nice and they have a variety of food on their menu. You have a nice view of the beach and sea which adds points in your imaginary review of this place. You've got to be honest – Gabriel definitely went out his way to invite you here.
He doesn't mention his friend – Nara – not even once and while you're not sure if you want to hear the reminder of her hanging out with Jungkook at the moment, you hope you won't bump into each other. You feel bad. 
You listen and talk to him, but your mind is all over the place. You should've known you won't be able to enjoy tonight if there's someone you've fought with. And with Jungkook out of all people. 
At least the food is nice.
After two hours of good dinner and dessert, and a few glasses of wine, Gabriel decides to walk you back to the beach house. You're not stupid to decline it, especially at night. Before that you decide to take a quick walk down the beach.
“So, what are you saying? Was the dinner that bad?”
You give him a look, chuckling. “Did it meet your expectations of getting to know me?”
Now he's the one who laughs. “Yeah,” he nods. “Kinda makes it hard for me to go back to Italy.”
You raise your brow, smirking. “So you're saying you're not going where I go?”
He laughs at your joke, “I'm thinking of it.”
“Yeah, sure.” you laugh, “One dinner is all it took?”
“You're special.”
And you're more likely looking for a hook-up, you think. You both know there's no future to this. 
“I am special?” you snicker, “Is that what you say to all the girls?”
“Is it working?” he teases.
“Nah, it takes more effort when it comes to me.” 
He stops in his tracks which causes you to do the same. He stares, eyes dropping down your lips and red lights flare in your mind. Knowing what it most likely means, you quickly turn away. 
“Come on, I'm so full I could fall asleep.”
Cringing at yourself, Gabriel follows and doesn't seem to be shaken up from it. He continues to talk and the mood is pretty much loosen up, which has been from the beginning. You had a good time and it went better than you expected it to. 
Gabriel doesn't try to kiss you and you bid goodbye with a casual hug, both of you understanding that nothing will come out of this. 
The lights are on as you open the unlocked door, meaning that Jungkook is already back. It seems like he just came as he came out of the bathroom, surprised to see you there. 
“How was your date?” he asks, looking away from you in a second.
“It wasn't a date.” you clarify which makes him snicker. “What? It wasn't.”
“An Italian guy wants to make plans with you, alone. You might be right, it's not about a date at all.”
You give him an offensive look, “Are you insinuating that all I'm good for is a hook-up?”
“No, don't twist up my words.” He immediately stops your mind to go somewhere his mind doesn't even get close to. “I'm insinuating that a guy from freaking Italy suddenly shows his interest in you, when you live across the world.”
You frown, watching him reach for a glass of whiskey you haven't noticed before. He's not drunk but what he is, is confidently smirking in your face as if he knows everything. Well, he's not too far off. Gabriel wants to have fun and while he seems to be a decent human being, he's not about to move to a country to be with you. You wouldn't expect him to anyway.
“But you're right,” He purses his lips, the rim of the glass almost touching it as he lets out the tiniest chuckle that's supposed to be hidden. “He's probably wanting to marry you.”
He's provocating you. The plans have not turned out the way you both wanted to – but it is what it is. Your curiosity almost kills you and your impatient-self wants to ask him about this date, or whatever it was. This is a game, you realize. 
And you won't let him have that satisfaction of you asking. 
“He wanted to kiss me tonight.” you inform him.
You watch him take a sip, pursing his lips right after as you slowly watch him swallow down the hard liquor. “I'm sure he wanted to do much more.”
Is that a jealousy you hear? 
No one has quite peaked your interest regarding this matter. Judging by Jungkook's confidence, he knows that. 
“Next time I will let him kiss me. Maybe then he will want to marry me eventually.” You give him a false smile, stopping right beside him as he wants you with a clenched jaw. 
Not giving him a chance to respond, you walk away with confident steps into the bedroom. The door closes and your back meets the wood. You can feel your heart in your neck, all the facade of confidence and peace leaves and you softly bang your head against it. 
What you said was completely stupid. You don't want to kiss Gabriel. In fact, the thought of it is nowhere near as exciting as one would expect it to be. Both of you know that the second part was only said to piss him off and prove a point. 
The questions are…
Will you let him kiss you next time?
Did or will Jungkook kiss someone else in here?
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The ongoing battle that you're in the middle of has not ended. 
Both sleeping at the very both ends, as far away from each other as possible, has been a good way to start the day. It's not like you expected to cuddle during the night. 
That's not what friends do, your mind wants to say. But you've crossed that line too many times. You're not the typical friends either, that ship has sailed a long time ago. 
You shouldn't have pushed him away. It's too late to take it back. For a moment you think of coming to Jungkook, apologize and somehow talk yourself out of this impossible battle you're in. You're willing to take all the blame for it. 
However, that's all gone as soon as you hear Jungkook calling with who you assume is Nara, his tone sweet and sounding exciting as they make plans for today. You stand there, making yourself a coffee as you try not to listen to their ridiculous conversation. How can you not? 
Jungkook sits right behind you, even if you didn't want to listen – it's impossible for you not to. He knows that. He knows you're listening. You're the one who has come in the middle of their conversation.
The call ends after a minute, your coffee ready but your mind isn't when you turn around and face the devil. You've seen him from the corner of your eyes when you entered the kitchen area, but nothing prepares you for the shirtless Jungkook. His hair isn't messy, he seems to be well put and from the looks of it, he came out of the shower not that long ago. 
He cocks his brow at you, questioning your stare making your features harden. “Having a date today?”
You painfully watch the way the corner of his mouth slowly lifts up as he chuckles. “Careful, you start to sound jealous.”
“Me? Don't be ridiculous,” you scoff, “Where is she from again? Doesn't she live across the world?”
Jungkook features lighten up with pure amusement as you use his words against him. “At least I can admit this is a date.”
“I simply hung out with a guy. We never stated it's a date.” you point out, knowing it sounds silly but Gabriel just wanted to get to know you. You never officially called it a date.
Jungkook stands up, grabbing his empty plate as he gives you another one of his snickers. “Be in denial all you want.”
“You know what?” He raises his brow in question, too close to you as he reaches to put the plate into the sink. “I'm not gonna spend this morning arguing with you. If I wanted it to be a date, I would make it perfectly clear to him.”
He smiles, but there's nothing sweet about it. “A date or a chance for a hook-up. I don't see the difference.”
He does. Jungkook has always been the dating type rather than the hook-up one. Your two friends have taken that label since forever. But obviously, he's not talking about himself. 
Suddenly, the air becomes thick and you stare right into his dark eyes. He's hovering over you, his scent luring you in as his eyes dance across your face. “Maybe you should take your own advice.”
He pulls away, giving you a chance to breathe again as you quickly recover. “Yeah? And what would that be?”
Jungkook grabs his phone and looks at you across his shoulder. “You should meet new people.”
Your mouth opens and you stare for a moment before you scoff, “If I wanted to date, I would already have like hundreds of boyfriends. The same goes if I was looking for a hook-up.”
“Good for you.” he calls out bitterly, leaving you in the kitchen with a fuming gaze and burning heart. 
But you realize one thing. How selfish you've just sounded. Jungkook has told you the same thing. 
If any of you wanted that, you could've easily done so. Yet your reason for saying it to him and what ultimately started this argument, is completely different.
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Jungkook is a dick. 
He has left for his date or whatever the fuck it is, and has left you alone in the house even without asking whether you have plans or not. You know your relationship right now is not at its best stage, but little consideration could not hurt. Especially since he's always been caring and considerate no matter how much your relationship has taken a different turn. 
It's one of the reasons why you desperately wanted to move on. Throw your past away and come back to the friendship you've known since the beginning. It leaves you agreeing that your original intention has come from a good place.
Luckily, Gabriel seems to show interest in you, still, after the little rejection you've given him after his attempt to kiss you. He comes to you a little after you come to the beach to just lay there. He's been there with his friends since this morning – at their usual spot. Nara is nowhere in sight and much to your distaste, you know who's she with. 
So once Gabriel invites you to hang out with them, you agree and would rather spend your alone time in a company of many people, than to dwell all alone about your decisions in life. He keeps you entertained and busy, away from your haunting thoughts. Until…
“Nara is with your friend. You know where they went?” 
You sit at a bar, drinking lemonade in this burning weather and you're thankful for the sunglasses you're wearing, so he's not about to see the tiniest roll of your eyes. “No idea. He forgot to mention.”
In the morning which is the last time you've seen him. He just left you to be with another woman, in a foreign country. You know you can call him anytime. Even now – no matter what your relationship looks like, he would be here in a second if you called and needed him. But still – you're mad he just left without saying anything. Deep down you know that's not the only thing that irritates you. 
“Nara fancies him a lot.”
So? You want to say. What are you supposed to do with this information?
“Really?” You're trying to sound surprised. But even Gabriel– who had so little time to get to know you – catches onto the tone and laughs. “It's pretty obvious.” You try to save it by simply stating. 
“She did ask him to go out again today. From what I know, she was never the one who asked someone out.”
“Where does she live again?” you ask, taking a sip off a lemonade trying to quench the fire inside you. 
“Spain.”
“It's not like there's any future to it.”
Gabriel stays silent and just stares, while you continuously take innocent sips. “Actually, Nara has applied for some modeling jobs in Korea.”
He's definitely not talking about North Korea, unfortunately that's unrealistic.
“Oh,”
Well, fuck. This just gave a completely different turn of event.
Considering your luck, she probably applied to your modeling agency as well. Many foreigners do. You just hope no one will mention it. Not to be a bitch, but you can imagine someone asking you to help her to get in. That's beyond your competency. But you could always mention her to Junho.
Oh my god. Jungkook has worked there too. He probably has saved your boss' number. While you think Jungkook wouldn't cross that invisible line you've set, he's always trying to help and save the day.
“Listen, how about I take you out for dinner tonight?”
That's… shocking.
After the last time you ended things, you thought he gave up. But you should've known better. It seems guys like him barely give up.
“What's else for us to do?” he chuckles, not really waiting for an answer but it still comes.
“What do you mean?”
He looks at you, reaching for his drink as his shoulders relax. “Our friends are meeting with each other almost every day.”
The taste of your non-alcoholic drinks becomes bitter on the tip of your tongue, just as much as your mood does. “As far as I know, you've got other friends here.”
“But none of them are you.”
Smooth. The little smirk you give him tells him everything. He's aware of his smooth delivery of compliments. You've got to give it to him – he knows his way around girls. 
It's not like you have anything else to do. Jungkook seems to be busy and does not care what you do here anymore. And Gabriel's company is nice. If it's true what he said about Nara coming to Korea, there's a bigger chance of them making future plans together. And as much as this thought leaves the most bitter taste on your tongue, you'll leave that move for Jungkook to make. 
After all, that's what you wanted for him and who are you to stand in his way. 
Purposely not verbally reacting to Gabriel's flirting, you shrug and lean in your seat. “Dinner sounds perfect.”
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Legs resting on top of the coffee table, Gossip Girl plays in the background as you mindlessly pop grapes in your mouth. Maybe you're silently imagining it's Jungkook whom you're crushing between your teeth. 
After spending almost the full day with Gabriel and then the rest of his friends, you've come to the beach house finding it completely empty. It looks exactly where it's left off and you're embarrassed to admit that you've checked Jungkook's things to see if they've moved. And perhaps he was here. They haven't, which only meant one thing – Jungkook hasn't come here yet.
Sooner than later, the door opens and there he is. 
He does not seem surprised to see you there – almost as if he knew you wouldn't be anywhere else. You give him that much satisfaction of looking at him once he arrives, acknowledging his late arrival. You hate what you do but it has its own purpose. And that is the single glare you give him. 
You feel like a mother, silently scolding her child for coming home late. 
He goes for a shower right away and you battle with thoughts of him, erasing the traces of possible sex on his skin. He comes back after a few minutes, wearing just his boxers with wet hair. You want to scold him for walking around like that, but that would be slightly selfish for numerous reasons. Is he torturing you on purpose?
He joins you on the couch, not questioning your choice of TV show as he knows you've previously seen it. As he sits down, you can't hold it back and just come straight to the point. 
“Will you help her?”
Your gaze is focused on the TV screen, but you feel his own burning the side of your face. “Huh?”
“Nara.”
He just stares which causes you to look at him and roll your eyes at him. “She applied for modeling agencies in Korea.”
“Korea is huge,” he says after a moment. “And how do you even know that?”
“Gabriel told me.” You try to not sound too proud.
“When?” he asks confusingly. “She told me just today.”
He's questioning if you've known this information sooner but never told him. 
This time you inform him with a smug face. “He told me today as well.”
The revelation that you haven't spent your day here alone is out. He is unreadable. He just watches you, almost as if he wants to make sure you're not making this up. Too bad for him. You're not making anything up and this time you're not too shy to show how proud you are for it. 
“What? You thought I was here all alone while you went on a date?” 
It's a purposeful jab, one that leads to nothing but disaster but you don't care. You're mad and annoyed. And now he knows why. Yet he doesn't make any effort to make an excuse for himself. 
“You brought him here?” 
First of all – you're not sure what would be so bad about it, even if you brought him here. But then it clicks. Jungkook has his own assumptions and bringing a guy here, while you're all alone could mean different things. Your skin is moisturized and you smell like your shower gel, which means you've left the shower not that long ago.
Perhaps it could be considered as disrespectful if you indeed brought him into a house, Jungkook rented and is a space for you two. You could understand that.
If the roles were reversed and you found out he brought Nara here – well… the thought of it doesn't sit well with you. But what does, when it comes to her?
“No, he asked me out after you so kindly left me here to go on your stupid date.” you huff out, standing up and forgetting about your TV show. The controller is tossed on the couch as you leave without looking at him. 
Your steps lead to the bathroom where there's a slight trace of foggy mirror left after Jungkook's shower. Mentally groaning at the scent of him dominating in the room, you reach toward the sink faucet in a desperate need to freshen up your burning face.
You don't get to turn the water on as Jungkook is in your tracks, a burning gaze aimed at you. “You seemed to have solved it pretty quickly.”
Realizing he meant your accusation of leaving you to go on a date, you scoff. 
“I wasn't about to sit here and sulk, waiting like a dog for you. If that's what you were planning for me to do.”
“I wasn't planning that,” he states, even though he wants to be just as mad for some reason. “I wasn't planning on being out until now.”
“Well, you were!” you exclaim. 
“Sorry.”
“Sorry? Is that all you've got to say?”
He leans against the door frame, arms crossed over his chest. “What am I supposed to say?”
“You know what? Nothing. Say nothing.” you fume, forgetting your dumb purpose in the bathroom anyway as you rush to get past him. But as soon as you get close, his hand around your wrist stops you. 
The touch is electrifying, sadly not in an awful way and you hate how your body reacts to him naturally. “Did you at least have fun?” you scoff.
“Would you be mad if I said I did?”
You almost cry, like a child but the anger inside you is bigger than anything else and you shake his hold on you. “And did you have fun?”
“Lots of it.” you spit the words at him.
You both stare into each other's eyes, the anger screaming out of them and yet the question you want to ask is unspoken.
“Good.”
“Goodnight Jungkook.” you murmur, walking away and quickening up the pace before you can do something you really want to, but would regret later. 
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One would think that after yesterday's exchange of pitiful words, you two would have solved it or at least tried to voice the problem here. It seems there is not enough pity and when the two of you want to, you could be the biggest pity bitches.
“Milk?”
Side-eyed look toward Jungkook, having two bowls of cereal ready and awaiting your answer. “I can make myself breakfast.”
“Milk?” he asks through his teeth, causing you to roll your eyes behind his back as you sit down.
“Yes.”
Whether this is his way of saying sorry for yesterday or not  is unknown and you're not about to investigate it. You mutter a silent thank you once the bowl is set in front of you and you two dig into your breakfast without any other sort of conversation. 
The rest of the morning goes like this. One word communication which seems almost like a challenge. Phones are your best friend but both of you are stubborn to talk. You swim in the pool for the first time since you're here, enjoying the sun warming your skin as Jungkook goes for his morning jog and comes back an hour later.
You're playing quiet house, so it seems. 
As the day goes, it's more than clear that both of you have plans tonight. Separate plans. 
Jungkook's phone goes off and he goes inside to take the call, after joining you in the pool. Trying to keep your nerves to yourself, you've had to endure his presence (lack of clothed presence). You went to rest on a beach chair while he swam. PAIN.
It's close to dinner time and you both get ready. Unlike Jungkook, you spend more time in the bathroom to do your hair and make-up, which he so “kindly” reminds you every time he wants to take a shower or goes to grab something there. 
The air is thick and it has nothing to do with the scent of hairspray and your fragrance. 
None of you ask what's your plan for tonight. But both of you can tell. No details though.
“You done here?”
You stop in the middle of putting your lipstick on as you give him a look, “Does it look like it?”
Ignoring the attitude in your tone, Jungkook comes up to the mirror and by doing that, he moves you to the side. He almost causes the lipstick to meet your cheek and you can tell, you almost see a smirk curling his lips. 
“Don't look at me like that. You've been here for a long time.” he says without sparing you a glance.
While you watch from the side with an open mouth and disbelief written on your face, he easily grabs his hair gel and starts doing his own hair. You fume, snatching your make-up bag and stomping away to finish what you haven't had the chance to – thanks to Jungkook. 
By the time you're done, Jungkook has left without saying another word. You haven't even heard him leaving and you feel pathetic as you search him around the house, all while trying to look for something. Turns out there's no one here and he has left. First and again. 
Luckily, Gabriel texts you not that long after and proposes a short walk. He doesn't want to reveal the restaurant location but he had to make a reservation, which already sounds fancy as it is. You're hungry and considering you're not in your best state, still fuming, you decide not to complain. First of all, it's not polite at all.
Gabriel is trying and just because you're in a mood to be a bitch, doesn't mean he's the one who deserves it. At least there's some sort of self-reflection happening. 
And two, maybe it's a good idea to walk around a bit to come to different thoughts. Plus, you will eat more by the time you arrive at the restaurant. 
He has cleaned up nicely, catching female eyes as you walk around for a few minutes. The walk has been short, just enough to make a casual conversation until you arrive.
The restaurant is located on a pier, waiters all wearing fancy white shirts and slacks – a difference from all the shirts with Hawaiian motifs and skin showing. 
As you're led to your table, you notice there's not a single table free and tonight it's fully packed.
“What is this place?” you ask as soon as the waiter hands you menus and leaves after. 
“It's the most famous restaurant on this island.”
Your mouth opens and then it closes again. “Are you insane?”
He laughs, staring at you fondly as if you haven't been too bold with your words. “This is what I like about you.”
“What,”
“Your honesty,” he hums, “It's refreshing. You don't try to woo me.”
“Why would I woo you?” you ask, genuinely curious but again, it comes out a little bluntly which causes him to laugh again. 
“Ouch,” he jokes, holding his chest as you stare at him across the table. “You're in this world to punish men for their overly huge egos.”
You purse your lips, “I'm not in this world for men, first of all.”
“Technically, you are thanks to one.”
Your nose scrunches up which causes him to laugh again. “That's besides the point.”
“So is there anyone who's been trying to woo you instead?”
“Besides you, no. Not at the moment.”
He cracks another laughter, “Touché. I deserved that.”
Giggling, you shake your head at your conversation.
“So tell me–” His words drift away because in the midst of your laughter, you spot someone entering your line of vision.
The world could not be any more cruel at the moment. There they are. 
Jungkook and Nara enter the pier as they're seated by the waiter, just like you were minutes ago. Jungkook, the gentleman he is, pulls out the chair for her as she giggles with a bright smile. Clearly wooed herself by the sweet gesture. 
“You've got to be kidding me.” you mutter so silently, that you're sure Gabriel can't make the words out but it's enough to silence him as he follows your gaze. 
He turns around and lets out a surprised, but light sound. 
“Oh, I guess me and your friend think alike.”
You try hard not to make a sour expression as you clear your throat. “Let's not interrupt them. What were you saying?”
“Is there someone waiting for you? Back in Seoul?”
“I told you, I'm single.” you chuckle.
“I know, but that doesn't mean there's not someone who's ready to fight for you.”
Your fingers stop clicking and you gulp. 
“So you're telling me there's no one in your life? Not even recently?”
It's like he can see there's something on your mind. You decide to come up with half of the truth. It's not like you'll see him again.
“There–It wasn't a relationship, more like a relationship of convenience–”
“So, a hook-up partner, right?”
Lips in a straight line, you hum in confirmation. “Yeah, whatever. We ended it, so it felt like a good decision to come here and just relax. Come to different thoughts.”
Cominically enough, you came here with a person you're currently talking about. The one who's sitting just a few tables from you two.
God, you sound so stupid. Of course, you're not telling Gabriel the whole truth. The purpose of coming here with Jungkook was to enjoy it, strengthen your friendship – the previous one you've had. You had an agreement. 
Somehow, you end up arguing thanks to you and it gets all twisted.
“Well, I know you were supposed to come here with your friends. So I understand why you would do that.”
“It's not just because of that. We were planning this for months. It was supposed to be a friends' vacation.”
He hums in understanding and doesn't get the opportunity to speak, as the waiter comes back and asks for your order. After you've ordered your meal, Gabriel leans back and studies you for a short moment. Just before you're about to ask about his lingering gaze and its purpose behind it, he speaks. 
“You're not really looking for a relationship, are you?”
Your brows shoot up at the unexpected question. For a while, you're not sure how to answer and your face says it all. In the end, you shrug and voice your confusion. “What's with the sudden question?”
“I apologize,” he smiles, “I had to voice my curiosity and I wonder if I was right.”
You lean back, fingers clicking against the table. “I'm not against it. If it comes, I welcome it.”
“Hm,” he hums. “So no hard break-up?”
“Why do you think so?”
“I don't know, there's just something about you that I can't seem to crack.”
“Sometimes some things aren't meant to be cracked.” you tell him, making him smile at the possible truth. 
“Sometimes,” he agrees. “I'm sorry if I seem to be nosy.”
“No, it's okay. Trust me, I win when it comes to curiosity.” you admit with a silent laugh. 
“I travel a lot, so I don't really have enough time to properly date. No woman wants a man who's ten months out of the country out of the year.”
“What do you do again?”
“Content creator.”
“Oh, so you're an influencer?” 
He laughs, “Not really. I do write for a traveling blog.”
“Maybe you'll find someone you can date and travel with.”
“Unfortunately, you don't seem that kind of person.”
You laugh, “I do enjoy Seoul. It's home by now.”
It doesn't take a genius to realize that the only contact he gets through women is mostly by hooking-up. Though, by the look of it it seems that maybe he's longing for something more stable and serious. 
“You know, this time I'm here for a good vacation. No work. No writing.”
“That's great. I'm assuming all that traveling is tiring.”
“It is. I enjoy it and I love my job. But I came here to maybe come to new thoughts.” he explains. 
The waiter brings you your food shortly after. There's no awkward silence during eating, you keep a slightly lighter conversation as Gabriel remains nothing but a gentleman. You would lie if you said you're purposely focusing your gaze on the plate, rather than on Gabriel fearing your eyes would wander somewhere they should not. 
You don't care. Maybe they noticed you and clearly decided not to interrupt you as well. Or maybe there's still that awkward awaiting of them noticing. Sipping on a drink, in a hope it will bring you to different thoughts and help you relax a little bit more. 
The reason for your slight discomfort doesn't need to be named. 
“You assumed, I've been through a break-up. Why?” you ask, curious as he seems taken back.
“I asked more than assumed,” he corrects. You don't seem to be buying that statement but remain silent. “At first I thought you're not interested in me, particularly. But I get a feeling you're just not interested in general.”
“Why's that?”
Yes. He might be right. You're not necessarily trying to search for someone. But you don't get a feeling as if you were against it.
“Let me be bold here.”
“Please.” you encourage him.
“There are men who can't keep their eyes off you. And I simply noticed by spending time with you.”
You give him a doubtful look which he quickly disregards by shaking his head.
“Men are men.” you simply tell him.
He makes a disapproving sound. “There are hundreds of women at the beach, but the majority of them stare at you.”
“Okay, now you're just giving me a compliment.”
“I am not,” he laughs gently, “I could but I guess it is a compliment when there are men thirsting over you.”
“Like I said. Men are men. They're thirsting over anything that wears a bikini.”
“That–can be true. But my point still stands.”
You clear your throat, “Okay. Maybe I'm not completely in a place where I'm searching for a relationship. I never hid that.”
“Of course. But that's why I just tried to prove my point why I think you're not interested.”
You stay silent for a second. He's technically a stranger but it seems as if you were having this conversation with a friend. You don't feel uncomfortable and there's no need for you to get defensive over this topic. He's wondering and that's fine. 
“It wasn't a relationship. Just a hooking-up type of one and we ended it. So I just need to get things back how they were.”
And comically enough, the person who's a part of this is sitting just right over there. Even though Gabriel seems to notice quite a few things, Jungkook and your history with him seems to be oblivious to him.
Why do you care?
You've been trying to keep it a secret as long as possible until it got out. So what if he knows the truth? It's not like you'll see him again – most likely. You don't need anyone to judge you two or look at you differently. You definitely don't need any more insights into this matter than your friends have delivered. 
Your own mind is a mess.
And on top of it, Jungkook and you are on edge. 
The mention of him causes you to look up. And fuck. What a mistake you make. 
You meet Jungkook's gaze, the intense color in them burning even from this distance as he's already looking at you. Your breath hitches in the most subtle way. While you stare shocked that he has noticed you, his brows are pinched together.
He's not exactly pleased to find you here. 
Nara sits on the opposite side of the table, so all you can see is her back but she seems to be saying something to him. Jungkook reaches for the glass of wine and takes a few sips, eyes not leaving yours. 
Then he's the first one to look away. That tiny detail affects you more than you're able to admit and you almost fume when the frown disappears from his face. You watch it all. His features relax as he talks to her back, obviously listening to her even though his eyes were elsewhere. Even that is kind of annoying. 
Nara gently throws her head back and giggles almost so loudly, that you hear some of it. With the most burning eyes you watch Jungkook smile and let out the prettiest gentle laugh.
“Are you okay?”
You quickly avert your gaze to Gabriel. “Yeah.”
“Thought I already bore you.”
You push out a laugh, wishing Jungkook is looking. But once your eyes stupidly wander back to him – he actually is looking. 
You make sure Jungkook sees the tiny provoking movement upwards of your lips. And he does. His eyes narrow, addressing the glare to you and only you.
“No, I'm starting to have a lot of fun.”
Gabriel's and yours glasses clink together comically in a synchronized way. But the only ones who seem to be on the same wavelength and having an idea – are you and Jungkook.
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a/n: F-I–N-A-L-L-Y! believe it or not, nobody wanted to get this chapter out more than me! if you've been around and reading some of the asks, you probably know life got crazy and busy! as always, I'm super grateful to everyone who's been patient for me and cheering on me whether it was online or offline ♡ to every person who's been harassing me on the internet over an update, this one's not for you. I see you and I'm not interested. I've said this in one of my asks – you never know what someone goes through offline and what could possibly be the reason of their lack of activity.
on another note, this chapter should've had more scenes and so much more was supposed to happen, but from obvious reasons I've decided to post it in the end because I still think it's a good chapter. anyway, I hope you'll like it just as much as I liked it when I was writing it (no matter how much time it took me 🥴) all the love goes to you guys!
If you’ve enjoyed this chapter, please consider buying me a coffee☕️: https://ko-fi.com/personasintro ♡ Teaser for chapter 60 will be posted there!
goal: 9k notes 🌙
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© 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨 (𝐧𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐝) | 𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭: @kithtaehyung
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livelaughlovesubs · 2 months ago
Text
Dom!reader x sub!scarletella
Warning: fictional stuff - stimulation through a separate object (?), inspired by some fanarts (artists are amazing), teasing, degrading pet names
I’m seeing so many fanarts that have this implanted and I HAVE to do something about my horniness that’s holding me back from working so, as far as I understand, for mr. Scarlettela his real body is his umbrella or it’s at least connected to him - anyway, can’t believe I’m writing about homicipher bruh, I feel ashamed T^T
!!Spoiler warning!! This is not canon but has some elements from it
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He is a good boy, he really is! Well, maybe not at all times, but he’s trying his best for you. And haven’t you seen just how much he loves and trusts you? He’s basically devoted to you! Like a faithful follower~ Handing the red umbrella he always carries over to you so easily, when he normally would never let anyone touch it, let alone give or lend it. It’s just proof of how much he likes you!
So why were you so mean and destroyed it? You like him, didn’t you know that his umbrella is connected to him? Why were you hurting him. He didn’t understand, he didn’t even know what to do. Because in the end, he still liked you.
Now this over 8 feet tall creature was kneeling in front of you, head lowered in confusion as he stared at the concrete floor. You were still holding the now broken umbrella, scoffing as you stared down at his rather pathetic form. It wasn’t entirely broken, just some bend metal and rough ends, or a little tear here and there. Yet for some reason his clothes were torn and disheveled, hands shaking slightly as he kept mumbling the words ‘I don’t understand’ or ‘I like you’ over and over again. At first he seemed intimidating, but now you didn’t have an ounce of fear left.
There must have been a connection between him and this umbrella. Instead of speculating, best just ask him.
Slowly you pointed the long object in your hand at him, the tip pushed below his chin as you made him look up at you. His round, almost completely dark eyes stared right at you, one side was covered by his crimson hair. There were tears steaming down his cheeks, he was crying, how unexpected. The two of you locked eyes for a few seconds, and you wondered what you should do about this crazed man.
While their language was hard to grasp at first, you were getting the hang of it by now. “This umbrella, is you?” The meaning of the question itself was unbelievable, but since this ghost realm exists, maybe your hypothesis wasn’t that out of place. “Yes. Me body.” Look at that, you were right. That explains why he suddenly got so sad. You groaned internally and pulled your arm back, using the umbrella as a cane instead.
As you were still thinking over your next step, his hands reached out to you hesitantly, and softly tugged at the ends of your coat. After stretching the fabric out a little, he leaned his forehead against it, mumbling almost inaudibly, “please don’t go, I like you.” You raised an eyebrow, the corners of your mouth subconsciously moving upwards as you snickered, “What?” His grip got a little tighter and his hand trembled from tensing his muscles so much, then he said a little louder, “I like you, don’t you like me?”
God you wanted to laugh, this was so sad it was laughable. How in the world did he come to that conclusion? In that moment, you had a lot to say t0 him, but due to the language barrier you couldn’t convey it really well. So you just talked to yourself, needing some time to vent.
“Oh you poor thing.” You chuckled in your own language, the one he didn’t understand. “What am I supposed to do with a perv like you?” He looked up at you again, wanting to ask what you said if not for your shoes that were pressing against his chest. “..what?” The person- or monster asked, but he didn’t resist your touch and leaned back, following your guidance. From earlier up to this point, he has been kneeling, just this time he was also using his arms behind his back to stabilise himself.
Without changing the almost arrogant look in your eyes, you used the gift he gave you to trace some imaginary lines on his body. The tip glided from his jawline to the tip of his chin, and you asked, “your name?” The heavy tension was something he also caught on, and he hesitated, not knowing to what this would lead. He shook his head, forcing out a “don’t know…”
You hummed slowly, showing you understood the message. Nonetheless, you continued to move the tip down his neckline all the way to his toned collarbones, “I’ll give you a name.” His eyes widened even more, it made him look objectively creepier, but you thought he looked like a dumb puppy. All big eyed, bearing a deep need and raw desire in his pupils. “How about,” then, just like drawing with a stick in the mud, you traced the word, “Scarlet,” over his chest, simultaneously voicing out the word.
He shuddered as the hard surface scribbles around his torso, squeezing his lips together while he tried to stay still for you. You weren’t being exactly gentle there. When you stopped to glance at him, he quickly nodded. That wasn’t the end to your little play yet, and you slid the pointy end across his abs and stomach, down to his thighs, making him spread them a little wider, “I gave you a name, so you’ll be my servant from now on. Understood?” This has been said in your language, but you hoped he’ll get the overall meaning.
Again he nodded. In his head, being your servant meant you liked him, right? Otherwise you wouldn’t keep him around! So how could he ever say no.
“Use your mouth.” You ordered, digging the tip into his flesh a little, and he answered shortly after, “I understand, me happy.” Sweat was forming on his forehead, and his previous crying ceased. Instead a faint taint of pink covered his cheeks, and he stared at you almost manically. “Good.” You said, which was basically a praise— right? —and he smiled, a shaky, breathless one.
A little behind you was a chair, and you dragged it closer to the still kneeling man below you. Even you were starting to get tired of standing, so you sat down in a comfortable position. “What now.” You said to yourself, not really paying him any attention anymore. It would be nice if you had a collar, would red or black look better on him? But your resources were limited, and you didn’t exactly have a lot of things with you as well. That’s when you absentmindedly thought over what you did own.
Besides that crowbar you’ve found down here, you really didn’t have a lot. Well, you also had a broken umbrella now— hold up, that’s right, you own him now. A rather sadistic thought came to mind, and you pondered to what limit you could control him with this red, unusual umbrella. Would he feel your presence when you just hold it? You got lost in your thoughts again, fumbling with the torn textile and the handle. This didn’t stop until a strange sound caught your attention.
Your eyes left the red batch of fabric in your hands, and instead wandered to the other red thing in the room. He crawled into a ball, arms folded in front of his body while his head pressed against the ground. It looked like he was in pain again, though you weren’t sure if these noises were whimpers of pain or pleasure. “You okay?” You eventually asked, and he whispered in a higher pitch, “me okay..!”
Once again your gaze returned to the umbrella. He must be in this state due to something you did, and so you tightened your grip around the handle while mindlessly drawing a line with your index finger on the panel. As expected, his shoulder jerked upwards even more, and he rolled more together, as if he wanted to take up as little space as possible. His entire body was twitching, also for some reason his coat was only hanging off his arms now.
“You are into it.” You commented, not even too shocked to learn this rather unnecessary fact. At least you can have your fill of fun with this. “What about this?” Suddenly you started moving your hand up and down the handle, rubbing the umbrella panel with the other hand. It was a truly humbling experience to do something implied sexual to a literal object, but your eyes were glued to the ghost before you, so you didn’t even notice how weird it must have looked.
And sure enough, there was a change in his behaviour, he got louder. Your smile widened involuntarily, and your pace also got quicker and rougher. Oh fucking hell, if he was really feeling that kind of sensations, you won’t be able to stop yourself. It was like you were hypnotised, concentrated on nothing but his expressions. On the different ways his face twisted into one of ecstasy.
A big, dark, lunatic grin, paired with fanatic eyes that were ripped wide open. Some hints of a scarlet blush covering his face while sweat rolled down his face. Those perverse sounds he made were proof of the probably internal pleasure he felt, and he quivered all over, still bend down on the floor. Now that you’ve got a better grasp of what was happening, you realized he was crawled together to hide something.
“Ngh, hgGnn- ah..! Please…♥︎~” he whined at your feet, drool dripping from the corners of his mouth and landing on the floor. You’ve been fumbling with the handle for some time, so you’ve gotten bored again and was curious about if the textile was a part of his being as well. Without a second thought, you simply stuck two fingers between the folds, and you were met with a heavily muffled moan.
“Arghhh-…MmmHFfffF~ ♡♡♥︎” Once he felt your touch, he bit into his own palm to quiet himself down. At some point he started crying again, glistening tears decorating his already ruined face. You didn’t think his reaction would be this good, this lewd, whatever you did, he must have liked it a lot. Which is why, despite the absurdity of your actions, you moved your fingers in and out of the holes or just randomly caressed whatever part you felt like touching.
Out of nowhere you felt something tugging at your coat again, it gave off a sense of Deja vu. Of course it was him, who was only pinching the corner of it with a shaky hand. His grip had lost any strength compared to before, and you couldn’t help but smile in satisfaction. “What?” You asked him, though you didn’t stop your administrations. He cried out when he opened his mouth to speak, breaking down in front of you, for your entertainment only.
“Haaaa-HnnGh… wait, p-please wait-!♡” Was he telling you it was too much? It’s making you want to overstimulated him even more. He was being so pathetic it was cute. Without wasting a single second, you went as fast as you could, blatantly ignoring his pleads. Based on your own observations, he must have been close, if he was similar to a real person. “Feels good?” You asked, to make sure he was alright. He didn’t reply again and only nodded all weakly, but you’ll let it slide this time.
He felt so hot and strange, it was a nice but unfamiliar feeling. Not only that, he felt something burning building up inside him and it was threatening to spill. That’s why he wanted you to slow down. Poor thing was confused, absolutely baffled what this warm feeling was. Is it love? It must be love. He loved you and you loved him after all. All in all it wasn’t a bad feeling, and since you seemed happy, he is too!
Another sudden wave of pleasure coursed through him, his eyes were clouded with lust and bliss, and the dirty whimpers that slipped past his lips got more erotic by the second. How desperate and lovesick he sounded, begging, pleading, squirming and trashing around on the spot. Thighs pressed together while his toes curled, back arched as a last moan ripped from his throat, “nnNgGHhh ♡♥︎ ♡~” Just as you predicted, that must have been his climax. Now’s the question, did he came in his pants? Did such things still have a reproductive system?
My my, it seems that is the case, whatever it was it seeped through the dark fabric of his trousers, causing an even darker spot to appear.
You only caught glimpses of it since he was hiding his own body so much, but you were content nevertheless. Since he was so obedient the entire time, you decided to be nice to him with the limited vocabulary you had. “Cute.” His kneeling figure was still shuddering and twitching, ragged gasps and pants were also coming from him. But for him, the only thing he could hear was your voice ringing and echoing in his mind, as well as the awfully loud beats of his own heart.
After all this time, you finally praised him! Well you did before but this time he was sure of it! And you found him cute! He was so happy he couldn’t stop grinning. That’s when you said, “do you want anything?” It was to kind of make up for making a fool out of him, or maybe for breaking his umbrella. He didn’t even think before quickly turning his head up, slurring out, “g-give me you name?” You blinked, that wouldn’t have been what you wished for but oh well. Right before you simply told him the answer you stopped yourself, and responded teasingly, “call me master.”
You weren’t sure if he knew the meaning behind it, but it didn’t matter. He had a blank look for a few seconds, mumbling to himself, most likely repeating that word a thousand times. While he did that, he let his head hang low again, facing the floor. His hair hid his face really well, and you couldn’t read his expression. “You alright?” You asked once the silence started to make you feel uneasy.
He placed both his hand on the floor and leaned down, until his face was hovering centimetres above your shoe, and he whispered eagerly, excessively so, “I’m happy, master. I love you.” Before kissing the tip of your shoe. You stared down in disbelief, a shiver running down your spine. He was more of a freak than you thought.
The moment he was done, you grabbed a fistful of his hair, proceeding to yank on it, making him face you on eye-level while he gasped in surprise. Your other hand clutched the umbrella more tightly, causing him to groan slightly. “Stupid dog.” You chuckled with a sinister smile spread across your face, watching as hearts appeared in the middle of his pupils.
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simpforsolas · 6 months ago
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You ever think about how Cole, a literal spirit of compassion, seems to care so much for Solas? Yes, he tries to connect with others and help them as well, but what they have is not the trust and affection he holds for Solas. Cole stands up for Solas on various occasions:
Vivienne: You should not encourage that thing. Cole: Solas is not a thing.
or
Cole: Solas doesn’t want to hurt people! He’s not that kind of wolf!
or
Cole: You didn’t do it to be right. You did it to save them. Inquisitor: Solas, what is he talking about? Solas: A mistake. One of many made by a much younger elf who was certain he knew everything. Cole: You weren’t wrong.
Or how about the fact that after Solas left, Cole went looking for him in the fade out of compassion, and Solas had to tell him to forget?
Cole's entire being is based around a single attribute: compassion. Because of this, he's drawn to a) people with pain for him to heal and b) people who are kind. He can sense that Solas has much hurt to heal, though Solas is able to conceal it from Cole in ways others cannot, but I think he also cares for Solas because he understands who he is at his core. He understands that despite what Solas has done or plans to do, he doesn't want to hurt people. He doesn't care about being right, he cares about helping. In truth, analyzing Cole and Solas's relationship is extremely revealing of who Solas really is. If the spirit of compassion who can read minds and emotions has so much affection for Solas and sees his motivations as coming from a place of goodness, that seems much more honest and true to me than someone making a judgment of him based outward factors.
The more I play inquisition, the more I use Cole as a moral compass. He may not understand the world, but one thing he understands is compassion, and every decision he makes is rooted in love for others. So if Cole cares for Solas and doesn't see him as a monster, then I believe that no matter what he ends up doing, this is proof that Solas is someone worth caring for. Someone with good within him.
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eddiesxangel · 5 months ago
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Angel or Devil? | E.M x Reader
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Anonymous asked: Could i request a fic where reader comes home pissed off and angry fucks eddie and hes hooked on it so he keeps trying to annoy her or asks her how work was ect to get her riled up so she they can fuck each others brains out, her dirty talk gets filthy when shes mad and eddie realizes he likes it mean
wc: 2.7k
cw: f!reader/mean!reader, Sub/switch Eddie, dirty talk, sex toys, slight choking, female masturbation, pussy eating, p in v, cream pie. Slightly proofread… so if you see a spelling error no you didn’t… (ง •̀_•́)ง
Eddie’s head snapped up when the sound of the front door slamming shook him out of focus. You must have had a bad day because you never slam things.
Timidly, Eddie put his guitar down and walked out of the bedroom into your living room to see you slam your purse on the floor; you don’t bother to unzip your boots; you rip them off your feet and whip off your drenched coat. That’s also when he sees the crazed look in your eyes behind your soaked hair sticking to your face. Today was not your day.
“Sunshine-“
“Don’t,” you point a finger up at him; you don’t want to hear a word from your boyfriend right now.
“But-“
“No. Shut up.” You make your way to the bedroom to wash your rain-soaked clothes.
Eddie followed you apprehensively. His gut told him to give you space, but his heart needed to ensure his sunshine was okay.
“Eddie.” You huffed. He had followed you.
He wasn’t listening to you. That’s all you wanted was something to listen to you. Nobody had taken the time to hear you out at work, and to make matters worse, the barista messed up your order, causing you to be late for your team meeting. Then, to top it off, you missed your bus. Thinking that a walk might help clear your head, you set off, only to be interrupted by the ominous crack of thunder in the sky. Instead of tears, you felt a surge of rage building inside you. All you desired was some sense of control in a day that seemed spiralling out of your grasp.
“Baby,” Eddie cooed again, stocking the back of your soaked hair.
You huffed in annoyance again. He wasn’t listening, so you decided to push him down in the bed.
“Woah, baby, I’m sorry-“
You cut him off as you climbed on top of him and shut him up with a kiss. Maybe now you could be in control.
With eyes wide, Eddie didn’t know what to do, but as you gripped at his clothes, signalling to get naked, he soon realized.
Eddie didn’t understand where this came from, but who was he to question? His lady needs to take out her frustration on him and who was he to deny her? He was just but a humble servant.
“You’re taking too long,” you groan, sitting up and taking off your soaked clothes.
“It’s okay, baby, I got you. Don’t worry, Teddy will make it better.”
“God, do you always talk this much? Shut up and eat my pussy”
Eddie was stunned. His eyes were wide, yet your words went straight to his cock. You never spoke to him this way before, but he liked it. He liked you a little mean.
“Yes, ma’am,” he salutes, and you give him the biggest eye roll Eddie couldn’t miss; he moaned as he connected his lips with your pussy.
With a hand gripped tightly in his hair, he was determined to make you cum asap. He had to service his girl; you demanded it. It was the sexiest thing Eddie had ever been witness to… not that you weren’t sexy every other time, but something had been unlocked in Eddie’s brain, and he didn’t want to give it up.
A feral groan leaves your throat, and Eddie can’t help but moan once again into your pussy, knowing it drives you crazy.
Your hips are grinding into his face. Usually, he would have you pinned down, but having you use him solely for your pleasure was getting Eddie off just as much.
Within minutes, you were falling apart on Eddie’s tongue and fingers. Your body shook beneath him, and you finally felt some relief.
“There you go, baby. That's it, let it go.”
With a deep sigh, you get up and walk to the bathroom without a word.
Eddie was stunned. You used him …and he liked it.
When you got out of the shower, it was like you were a different person, like the rage demon was fucked right out of you, and you had forgotten how angry you were and also how you had just left Eddie to take care of himself.
You came out, giving Eddie a big hug and a kiss like nothing out of the ordinary just happened. You told him about your day while he cooked you dinner and spent the evening snuggling on the couch.
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It’s been two weeks since you stormed home that evening, and Eddie was doing everything in his power to get you to retake control, but you were not biting.
He got excited when you would make a move first, but then you fell into old habits, and he would be the one to take charge. So Eddie was doing everything in his power to piss you off.
He didn’t want to, but he needed to trigger that inner dominatrix that was hidden deep inside.
Lately, you couldn't figure out what had come over Eddie, but his behavior was really starting to bother you. He seemed to be constantly leaving the cupboard doors wide open, choosing to immerse himself in video games instead of addressing household chores. Despite promising to tidy up, he never followed through. His socks and underwear were strewn across our shared bedroom floor, and on top of everything, he seemed to be avoiding any meaningful conversation during dinner.
“You’re not even listening to me, are you?” You glare at him, as he doesn’t even signal that he heard you.
You've had enough of this immature behavior. You don’t understand why you're being ignored, but you've reached your limit.
“Eddie!” You slam your fork down on the table, and finally, he looks at you.
You quickly stand up, and the chair screeches against the parquet flooring. Eddie’s big brown eyes grow wider and darker as you approach his side of the table.
This was it, he thought; he’d cracked the code.
“What is your problem?” Your hands were on your hips. He thought you looked so cute when you tried being all authoritative.
“Dont know what you’re talking about, sweetheart.” Eddie shrugged nonchalantly.
“Excuse me?”
“You have something to say, baby? Come on, tell me.” His tone was condescending and taunting.
“Eddie, I’m serious.”
“So. Am. I.” He stands, getting closer with each word. He towers over you, but you don’t care; you’re too pissed off to be intimidated.
“What is your problem!” You scream.
“I don’t have a problem, sweet thing.” He shrugs, his voice cool as a cucumber.
This only pissed you off further. He was so good at pushing your buttons, and you were falling for it unknowingly.
Your face was scrunched up and he thought it was the cutest thing he couldn’t help but hide a smirk and you caught it.
“You want to try that again?” you ask. Your faces were centimetres apart, and he could smell the fire brooding within you.
Hook, line, and sinker.
God, you were infuriated with him, but you never wanted him more badly than right now. You act on instinct and flung yourself at him. Wrapping your arms around him and kissing him harshly, so much so your lips would be bruised by the time you’re done with him.
“There she is”
“Shut up.” Your hands are all over one another, and Eddie is reeling from your actions. Finally, his little minx had come out to play.
You forced your way over to the living room, not ever breaking the kiss until you pushed Eddie off of you and down onto sofa.
“Tell what you want; I’m yours to use.” he smiles, and you can see the mischief in his eyes.
“Is that what this was all about?” you scan his body, his hard cock prominent in his sweatpants. “You like it when I’m mean?” You’re annoyed still but also turned on. Your Eddie likes it when you’re in control.
A wave of excitement washes through you at the realization that all of this was actually to get your attention.
“You like when I dom you, Teddy? Is that it?” Your voice sickly sweet as you run your hands up his thighs until you reach the crease of his hips but don’t go any further, only teasing him more.
“Yes,” he nodded his head rapidly.
A rush of arousal floods your panties.
“Good boy.”
Eddie throws his head back and reaches to palm his cock, but you swat his hand away.
“No,” you stay stern. “This is my cock”
Eddie’s head snapped back up, and you could see in his eyes that he liked your words.
“Who’s cock does this belong to?” You ask as your hand slinks down into his pants, gripping at the base.
“Me.” He smirks. He wants you to be meaner.
“Okay,” you say, standing up and walking away.
“Okay?” Eddie is dumbfounded as you leave him alone on the couch. It takes a few seconds before he gets up to follow you into the bedroom, where he sees you’re pulling out your dildo.
“What are you doing?” He asks, disappointed that you left him.
“Since you don’t think I own your cock, I’m going to use the one I bought to get me off instead.” You shrug before stripping down fully and spreading your legs open to play with yourself in front of Eddie.
“Fuuuuuuuuck, baby.” Eddie came crawling, but you stopped him with an outreached foot to his forehead.
“What do you think you’re doing?” You asked with a raised brow.
“Oh-I uh-“
“oh, you uh,” mocked back, and Eddie didn’t think he could get any harder.
“You are going to sit back over there and watch only, like a good little boy. If you touch yourself, I stop.”
“Baby! What? No, that’s so mean,” He pouts.
“You wanted to mean, baby; you’re getting mean.”
Eddie bit his fist and sat back obediently; never in his wildest dreams did he think you would be so confident in this newfound role.
You spread open your legs and work your fingers through your slick folds, not breaking eye contact. You can’t help but smirk when you bring the dildo to your lips, putting on a show by sucking and drowning the head with your saliva, showing exactly what you would have done to Eddie if he had complied earlier.
You hear a throaty moan from Eddie as you watch his face scrunch and his fists tighten into balls as if he were in physical pain from watching you. The way you pop the toy off your lips and slowly drag it down to your weeping hole had Eddie’s cock twitched.
You finally break eye contact when you watch yourself insert the dilo into your wet pussy before you let your head fall back into the pillow.
“Oh yes!” your hips gyrate into your thursts as you put in a show for Eddie.
You exaggerate, for Eddie’s sake. Of course, it would never feel as good as him, but he doesn’t need to know that.
“You evil woman”
You snap your eyes back to Eddie and smirk.
“Fuck it feels so good!” “God it’s just so big” “yes yes yes!”
Moan after moan of pleasure leaves your lips as your free hand explores your breast, squeezing it and playing with your nipple before moving down to your clit.
It doesn’t take long for your orgasm to run through your body; having Eddie watch you, at your mercy, was enough to fuel the orgasm, let alone the thick, veiny pink dildo that was spreading you wide open, hitting you just right with each pump.
Your pussy clamps down onto the dildo that’s deep inside of you, cuming all over it as you shake with pleasure. You don’t even hear Eddie moan as he bites his fist, trying so hard to behave and listen to your orders.
Your cum floods out of you as you slowly pull it out with a pop.
“Come here and clean it up,” You demand, and Eddie dives head first to your pussy, but you quickly close your legs, and Eddie pouts those beautiful full pink lips at you.
“This first,” You smirk, handing him the dildo you just used that’s coated in your cum.
Eddie’s eyes go wide in shock, but he takes the toy and places it in his mouth. His eyes roll back at the taste of you, and he licks and deep-throats it.
The thrill of watching Eddie place the used dildo in his mouth as he sucks it off only makes your pussy flood once again. Your hands play with your nipples as you slowly open your legs for him.
The second Eddie sees your knees parting, he tosses the dildo to the floor, and before you can command anything, his lips attach to your pussy in an instant.
“That’s right, you’re just a little cum slut aren’t you?” you can’t believe the words are leaving your lips, and neither can Eddie, but he ruts his hips against the mattress as the filthy words fill the room.
“I see you, baby. Can’t even wait five minutes without needing to pay attention to your cock” You try not to stutter as Eddie works his tongue inside your tight hole, cleaning up the remnants of cum. You watch as Eddie pops his ass up and down as he tries to get himself off, but you can’t have that, not yet.
“Stop,” You command, and Eddie doesn’t know what action you’re referring to, so he stops everything completely.
He looks up at you with those big doe eyes, mouth agape and shiny with your cum, and you almost crack a smile, but you keep your composure.
You shuffle to your knees and instruct Eddie to lie down in place of where you just were and lean over him.
“Now, baby, I’m going to ask you again. Who’s cock is this?” You slowly drag a single digit, hardly touching the soft skin of his shaft, from the base to tip and back down again. His cock was more than ready, he was so thick and long. The tip was red, and was leaking out so much precum. If you didn’t know any better, you maybe would have thought he had come already.
“Yours” He doesn’t hesitate; he needs to cum; he needs to feel your pussy around him.
“Good boy,” you say, taking your finger away so you can hook a leg over his hip and straddle him.
“I think I’ve learned my lesson.” Eddie swallows.
“Oh, is that right?” your hand slowly makes its way up Eddie’s thick throat and lands at the base of his jaw. You squeeze it ever so gently at first but slowly tighten your grip as you sink down onto his cock.
Your small hand doesn’t do anything to hurt Eddie, but the feeling of it there had Eddie pushing his hips up into you roughly.
You let out a maon of pleaser as he hits your G-spot and doesn’t stop. Thrust after thrust, Eddie has your eyes rolling into the back of your head, and he will not stop until he has his way with you.
“Think you’re in control now, baby? Got you so cock drunk you can’t even speak.”
No longer did you care about being in control. Eddie was making you see stars.
“Don’t think your little toy had you feeling this good, huh?” he gritted his teeth, his fingers digging into your hips so hard you know there will be a bunch of tiny bruises in the morning.
“Ohhhhh, Teddy!,” You scream as your second orgasm rips through you without warming. Eddie’s hips jackhammer up into you as you ride out your orgasm, and Eddie chases his. He flips you over and pushes your legs up into your chest so he can watch himself disappear into your tight little cunt.
“Fucking made f’me.” his hips snap once, twice, three times more until he spills himself inside of you.
You feel Eddie’s weight collapse on you, his heavy body limp.
“Holy shit” You breathe in the revelation of what just happened. “Was that our best sex ever, or am I dreaming?” You whisper.
“I think you broke me, baby,” Eddie moans as he doesn’t want to leave your warm wet pussy.
“That confirms it, best sex ever.” You raise his hand so you can give him a high five before his limp arm falls back down on the bed.
You can’t help but giggle, and Eddie shoots out of you, complaining it’s too sensitive to squeeze his cock anymore.
“Teddy?”
“mhm?”
“Next time you want me to take charge, just ask. I’m not keeping a messy home because you wanna get freaky.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he salutes before he rolls your body into his so you can fall asleep in his arms.
Tagging some moots who might be interested 🫣: @xxbimbobunnyxx @bimbotrashcan @usergeta @loserboysandlithium
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teaandspite · 5 months ago
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The Great Goodreads Diss List (Part 1)
Context: For many years now, I have been collecting funny lines from Goodreads reviews to share with my coworkers. (I do collection development, reader's advisory, and weeding at a public library, so I read a LOT of reviews)
Are some of these, perhaps, rather mean? Yes, but they are also very funny, and come from a place of honest frustration. In the tradition of Bargepole threads and lists everywhere, names and titles have been censored.
"First, I want to say that I understand how hard it is to write a book and how amazing it is when it is actually published. Congrats to the author for that accomplishment. That said--"
"Warning: This review will be lengthy due to pure hatred."
"I found myself feeling really, really annoyed with the world that this book is allowed to exist. We live in a universe where the passenger pigeon is extinct but this book goes along merrily being read by unsuspecting lovers of words and ideas and stories? It just seems like too much, you know?"
"Don't do it. Don't spring the cash for the hardcover. Instead, eat an entire bag of Twizzlers, spend some money you don't have at a high-end department store, look up on Facebook the shady college boyfriend that made you cry, research the current value of your home or 401K and then read all about how the big hedge fund managers are faring during the economic crisis. You'll feel about the same stomach pain if you waste your time reading this book."
"This wretched novel begins with the mugging of an old lady and it appears I may be in the process of repeating that loathsome crime as [author] was 78 when she wrote it. It is not nice to put the boot into such a poor defenseless old creature lying there with only a damehood, a Booker Prize and a few million quid. It’s a nasty job but somebody has to do it."
"I think this is the way dead people would write, if they could."
"I am considering setting up SPABB: Society for the Protection of Accurate Book Blurb. This blurb appears to have been written by someone from the publishers who met [the author] the night before, got very drunk, lost his notes and then constructed something in a fug of hangover the next morning."
"I congratulate [the author] on the early half of his book, which was thoroughly fun and made me laugh and think. I congratulate [the author] on the second half of his book, for finishing it. It reads like that was difficult."
"…a woman whose taste in contemporary literature has roughly the same batting average as a pitcher in the National League."
"The author is a pompous windbag."
"Recommends it for: No one. Recommended to me by: A friend who apparently wished to cause me great suffering."
"Makes me wonder: is it possible to obtain similes at a volume discount?"
"The repeated phrases made me want to mail a thesaurus to the author."
"I'm disappointed in myself for finishing this book."
"if the author described [character's] eyes as "obsidian" one more time I was tempted to write her and ask if her thesaurus broke."
"They say that an infinite number of monkeys with an infinite number of typewriters would, if given infinite time, eventually produce the complete works of William Shakespeare. [This book], on the other hand, would probably take the average monkey just under two hours."
"I can't imagine what the author had to do to get this nadir of Western literature printed on innocent trees, but he does seem to know a LOT about being well-connected in New York."
"This book is so bad it is almost worth reading just to make you appreciate the other books you are reading."
"Reads like it was written by a brilliant author, the night before it was due."
"raises interesting questions, like: can a book be so bad as to constitute an act of terrorism"
"has this author ever spoken to a human woman"
"This acorn has fallen so far from the tree that it can’t even see the forest."
"I’m guessing they are touted as ‘beach reads’ because no one will care if they get dropped into the ocean."
"This book begins with all the energy of a hand vacuum near the end of its battery life, and the pace doesn't quicken much from there."
"At least everybody’s eyes stayed the same color this time around.”
Part 2
Part 3
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the-tarot-witch22 · 5 months ago
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Your relationship dynamic with your future spouse - Pick a pile
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Pile 1/ Pile 2/ Pile 3
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My Paid Readings | My insta
Liked my blog or readings? Tip me!
Hello everyone ! This is my another pick a pile or pac reading so please be kind and leave comment or reblog, and let me know if it resonated with you!
Note : This is a general reading or collective reading. It may or may not resonate with you. Please take what resonates and leave what doesn't. And it's totally okay if our energies aren't aligned!
How to pick : Take a deep breath and choose a pile which you feel most connected to! You can choose more than one pile, it just means both pile have messages for you!
I worked really hard on this pile please show some love by leaving comments, likes and reblogs!
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Pile 1:
(The cards I got for you - 4 of cups, king of wands, 2 of wands and 3 of pentacles)
Okay so the very first thing i felt when i did your reading you would be sharing similar past, like you both might have gone through similar things in your life, some of you might have come from toxic households, parents, ex who were a piece of shit, and your fs had gone through similar things, same heartbreaks or betrayal in their life, and that's how you bond with them, you understand each other, the feelings you have for each other, the dynamic between you both is quite emotional, vulnerable and yet loving, i feel you will see each other, the feelings between you both will flow, i feel they will teach you a lot and so will you, like how not every person is same, how different you both are, but you still blend together, for some of you your future spouse is way more mature than you, they have experienced so many things, they takes relationship very seriously, or intensely, you both will teach other how important is to be happy with what you have to look at the things which will make you both happy you won't both will grow together, i also feel for some of you, your future spouse is your partner crime they support or encourage you in anything you do, the bond you will share with them is quite flowy and smooth. I also channel a scene where he is like let me do it for you type of thing they will also feel they can be just themselves when they are with you, but there also signs they just wanna impress you in whatever thing they do, you will also be on same wavelength physically and emotionally, your dynamic with them is just so sweet, They will definitely treat you the way you deserve to be treated, for some of you , you will both bond with your same interests, like do you know the couples who just travel together, not stopping for anyone, exploring new things new places, you are them, you both will share that interest with each other, there will be also some versatilities in a good way, you might both have difference of opinions but i see you both understanding each other's pov and giving each other things you both deserve and want.
Okay so guys your pile tells me how understanding and sweet your fs is with you, your dynamic is just so easy with them. and you deserve that!
Pile 2:
(The cards I got for you - ace of cups, ace of swords, 2 of pentacles and temperance)
Okay so the very first thing i felt was your dynamic with your future spouse would be very calm and peaceful, very soft and pure, your future spouse will awaken a very new feeling in you give a new meaning to love and life, you both would be very comfortable and relaxed with each other, for some of you i am sensing you could need alone time it could be you or them, but you both will let each other in, that's how meaningful and calming your relationship is, I also feel many people around you could be jealous of you and him, like you relationship, the way you treat each other, the feelings , the person could be very new not someone you already know, their way of thinking will attract you so much to them, their beliefs, their open mindedness, their way of handling anything will melt you, you will understand each other emotions very deeply honestly, almost like telepathically, i channel a scene where you need something and you don't even ask him and he will be there with that very thing, that is honestly so sweet, even i am feeling butterflies, the dynamic would be very soft and safe, like you know you can trust them blindly, he will just be there whenever you need him, present for you, I also feel you will both like indoor dates rather than going out, because you would want to spend time each other than spending it with others, or seeing others, i also heard "you are the only one who matter for me, there is no one, i would be rather be with", okay wow, for some of you guys, you could need reassurance from your other half and he will happily give it to you, i also feel Pisces and Gemini energy here for some of you, or it could be your future spouse, your relationship with each other is so free you won't be tired with each other's presence, okay so that serves as the confirmation with you letting each other in your personal space, i also feel you both would be communicating a lot , communication will definitely have a big role in both of your relationship, i also feel no matter the distance you both would make it through till the end , i also heard "i wanna grow old with you", gosh they are such a softie for you! for some of you could have doubts about your fs intentions but i feel and hear they will be very patient with you, i see a scene where they are busy, but they will reply to your texts, just to let you know they are their for you, you don't have to worry about anything, They will make sure you have their attention, they are quite attentive and thoughtful too, they would also like to do or go to grocery shopping with you, i channel a scene where they are looping an arm around your neck, just like talking or showing you their love, their love language could be physical touch or words of affirmation, the dynamic of your both is very balanced, you will nourish and care for each other a lot.
So pile 2, seems like you guys got the gem, and i can't be more happier <3
Pile 3:
(The cards I got for you - king of pentacles, knight of wands, the star, 10 of swords and queen of wands)
Okay so the very first thing i feel for you guys you guys might have manifested each other in your lives, you guys have wished for them and waited for them so long, but soon the wait is going to be over for you, and they will be coming into your life. I also heard "we are meant to be together", they dynamic between you both is just so happy and loving, you caring for each other's needs, being there for each other in tough times, and supporting each others in lows and high, that's how your both relationship is like, honestly i felt that tingly happy feeling right here for you both, and i love that. For very few of you, you both dynamic is like "tom and jerry", playful and flirty banter, some of you could be manifesting that enemies to lovers trope where they falls first and harder (not for everyone but for few) or it could be like your favourite trope, and i love that!, So for the majority of you the dynamic is like they are your provider financially, emotionally and physically, such an honest vibe i got from them, Like they would definitely let everyone go down for you i keep hearing the song "I'd let the world burn by Chris Grey", so your fs might be telling you how you are their treasure, their precious they won't let anyone hurt you, makes sense why i felt that protector and provider energy from them, their love language could be gift giving and act of services, they will shower you with love and surprises, the dynamic between you both is very healing and intense both mentally and physically, they will be your anchor, like when you feel lost they will hold you tell you how you everything for them, such a sweet couple, i also channel that trope, "bad ass fmc x men who is just obsessed with her" in a good way, you both would be such a power couple together, you both could be each other's divine counter part, your future spouse would be very protective for you, i channel a scene where you just spend his money and he is like, that's my wife, such a book men he is, you both would also share that hot sexual dynamic who just can't keep their hands off each other, he keeps telling me to tell you "when we meet , you will be my ride or die", i will kiss the fu*k outta you, lol they really are something , love that for you, your sexual dynamic is also on same level, you two will be craving each other and intensely, he is also telling me it's very soon, not a lot of wait till you both meet, your dynamic is just very divine and intense, you both will be healing each other's wound, which has been imprinted on you, the dynamic is also very healing, i feel you both would be helping each other grow from past wounds, you guys can also check out pile 1, it could have messages for you, you both will just get each other, for some of you guys, you guys could have been abandoned by their loved ones and it could be your future spouse too, so you will help them and vice versa you guys could be going through lots of transformation right now or have been through them, which has caused and left you very exhausted, but i see your future spouse helping you through everything and you will be helping your future spouse, I also feel you both will see each other, like in a party your future spouse would be the only one who matters, the dynamic between you both is prosperous and full of abundance!
So pile 3 give me a towel, because i am sweating right now with love and intensity, your future spouse wants you to wait and he will be in your life very soon, so happy for you guys~
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Thank you for stopping by! Take care and remember you are loved <3
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pellucid-constellations · 3 months ago
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If It All Fell (11)
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Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: If it all fell apart—if you forgot who you were—would you love him again? Would the bond guide you back? Azriel doesn't know if that uncertainty is one he can bear.
Word count: 5k
Warnings: Angst, pining
a/n: Omg guysss it's been months but here it is!!! I'm so happy and excited to share this chapter ❤️ Things are slowly coming to a close with this story, but don't you fret because there are still some big plans 👀 The POV bops around a little in the chapter because I just want to capture a lot. Well, enjoy!! Thank you for waiting for me :)
Series Masterlist (all parts ♡)
~~
Nesta Archeron was glaring at you from the other side of the room. The icy stare was a stark contrast to the warm, jubilant nature of those around you, and you found yourself continuously edging into Azriel’s side to avoid the harshness. If the Shadowsinger noticed your growing distress—which you were sure he did—he didn’t make it known. He only allowed you to get closer, subtly shifting his arm to accommodate your movement. 
Feyre was speaking on the other side of you, retelling a light-hearted story about the creation of her art studio. You had been part of the construction and she was more than happy to share that information with you. 
Meeting her had been immeasurably easier than meeting Nesta. 
“I’m so happy you’ve been feeling well enough to do this,” Feyre smiled, her hand on your arm starling you out of your game of avoidance. “I’ve missed seeing you. I know we all have. Elain was furious that she couldn't make it. She got caught up on the outskirts of the continent with Lucien.” 
You took a calming breath in through your nose and shifted your gaze away from the chair Nesta was occupying. “Lucien?” 
Azirel’s low tone rumbled at your shoulder. “Elain’s mate. He has an interesting story. I’ll tell you more about it later.” 
And you trusted that he would. 
Since the night the two of you shared, Azriel had become an open book. He had spent half of that night making you privy to the story you shared—how you met, how the bond snapped, and his subsequent idiocy of keeping it from you while you knew the entire time. That point had sent you into a fit of laughter because obviously you would have known. Your magic revolved around parsing out lies and secrets. 
Coming to terms with that truth also helped you better understand the bond itself. 
Azriel had explained that the cauldron found mates in equals, pairing the souls of those that matched. It had been confusing for you to make a connection between Azriel and yourself. He was an Illyrian with forceful wings and so much power that it needed to be contained in the azure siphons lining his body.
But then, on a particularly quiet night, Azriel had shared his role in Rhysand’s court. His words had been cloaked in reproach as if sharing that piece of him would send you running. You had listened with rapt attention and pieced together the truth of your bond. 
Azriel was the spymaster, and you were the truthteller. 
It also helped—presumably—that Azriel had gotten into the habit of telling you how much he loved you. Regularly.
He never expected anything following his declarations and never even gave you enough time to think of a response, but he said the words so openly. Handing you breakfast, taking a walk along the Sidra, in between stories from your life; Azriel always said I love you as if he didn’t mean to, like he was making up for lost time. 
You hadn’t said it back yet. 
Maybe you’d thought it. 
“There’s also a book club that I know has been eagerly waiting for your return—” 
“So you’ve really lost your memory?” Nesta’s biting tone cut her sister off. You snapped your gaze over to the piercing eyes you’d been avoiding. 
“Um—”
“Rather convenient, how cuddled up you are with the spymaster when the rest of us haven’t even seen you. What progression does that show?” 
“Nes,” Cassian chided from beside her. 
Something heavy made your chest hurt—embarrassment, you parsed out. You leaned away from the warm chest you found comfort in and glanced at Cassian’s exasperated expression as he stared at his mate. 
“What? You all have been hiding her away with your typical ploy of protecting her. Why hasn’t she been training with the Valkyries? Who gets to decide when she’s let out for a walk? I presume Rhysand is one of her handlers? I’d ask him but he refuses to speak to me about it and doesn’t show his face unless absolutely necessary.” 
“That’s enough,” Azriel cut through. You’d put about an inch of space between the two of you and the missing contact was glaringly apparent. 
“Is it? You’re making her weak.” 
“Nesta, we weren’t here the first time this happened. We have no idea what she needs,” Feyre argued, squaring her shoulders towards her sister. 
Nesta only scoffed. “Well, clearly, she needs something else because she still has no memory.” 
“I don’t know what’s going on with you right now, but cool it,” Cassian commanded. 
Sharp features ran over your form, analyzing your every move as the conflict continued. You felt exposed, belittled under Nesta’s gaze, and the fae only sharpened the lines of her eyes the more you squirmed. Azriel closed the space between you again, covering your knee with his hand, and Nesta’s jaw worked at the movement. 
You wanted to say something, maybe defend yourself, but you were afraid to open your mouth and be ridiculed. Everyone had said you were friends with Nesta. They had described her prickly personality but said you had been fast friends. They said she had been asking about you. 
You breathed through your nose and pressed your lips together. 
“She’s gotten memories back, Nesta. We were told it’s a slow process,” Feyre reasoned, attempting to lower the tone of the room as Azriel’s shadows became restless. 
“Right. And they all happen to be memories of the precious Inner Circle. Another agenda I’m sure was purposeful.” 
That was true. You’d gotten back a handful of memories now, all with either Azriel, Cassian, Rhys, or Mor involved, but those were the only people you knew. And they were all distant memories made centuries ago. You had no new context and had started to assume that this process would be chronological. Sort of. 
“We are introducing things slowly,” Azriel all but gritted out, his presence large and looming at your back. “Even the process of getting those few memories hasn’t been pleasant. Based on what we understood we thought it would be better if—” 
“It’s always what you think. She isn’t yours, Azriel,” Nesta fought, gripping the arms of her chair in a punishing hold. 
“Careful, Nesta—” 
“You’re scared.” Your voice was sure but quiet as it silenced the room. You stared at Nesta, brows furrowed, and watched the tells of her fear emanate from her. “Why are you scared?” 
Nesta looked jarred, affronted. She glowered at you. “I am not scared.”
“I can see it. I don’t understand it, but I can see it.” You met her eyes and something looked different about them—something searching. “Is it about me?” 
The room tensed, air becoming still. 
Nesta stood abruptly. You straightened your back and were halfway up to follow her, a confusing urge leading you to comfort the woman who obviously did not like you, when pain took your breath away. You faltered, feet failing as you shot them out to balance your wavering posture. You fell forward instead, the ground a harsh pain against your knees. 
Azriel 
Azriel was so quick to find your side, any vitriol lingering in the room no longer his concern. He pulled you against him and slotted your head in his neck as a whine left your lips. 
“What’s wrong with her?” Nesta asked, harshness tinged with underlying urgency. 
He had known she was scared—everyone knew that—but you voicing it had made it real, and Nesta was not one to put that out in the open. In another life, just a few months difference, you would have confronted her privately. But you didn’t know. 
“She’s remembering,” Azriel muttered, holding you closer as your body became dead weight against his. This part always sent terror shooting through him, but he was getting better at containing it. You needed him to be calm.
“Does she always collapse? You didn’t think to—” 
“Nesta,” Feyre interrupted, placing a gentle hand on her sister’s arm. The High Lady shook her head with a wince. 
Azriel watched the interaction with lidded eyes, his hands pressed to your head and back. He knew you would come to within a few minutes. Sometimes it took longer and you were far more dazed then, but he’d be willing to sit here for as long as you needed. 
“I’ll get the compress,” Cassian declared, kicking up from his chair with a parting hand on Nesta’s shoulder. “Take it easy. It can be difficult when she wakes up.” 
Nesta crossed her arms and shifted her weight between her feet as Azriel repositioned you on the ground. He looked down at your face, the way your eyes moved behind the lids, and then tucked you back into his chest. He reminded himself that this was something good; last time you remembered the first kiss you had had with him. 
A turn of silence overcame the sitting room and Feyre excused herself to check up on Nyx. Nesta stayed, using Cassian’s return as her weak excuse. 
“How long—” 
“She’s okay, Nesta,” Azriel said, voice low. “I know it doesn’t seem like it, but she’s okay. You  need to give her time.” 
Nesta’s brow furrowed and she bit the side of her cheek. “You all have made her weak. She doesn’t need to be coddled.” 
“She does. For now. That doesn’t make her weak—to need people.” 
Azriel moved your hair off your forehead as a harsh breath left your nose. You didn’t wake yet. 
“She would hate it—being treated like glass.” 
“I know,” Azriel admitted. “She hates it now. But, as Feyre said, you weren’t there before. This is nothing compared to how we were then.” 
“I haven’t seen her in months.” Nesta’s voice was smaller as she dropped to the ground beside Azriel. “She looked so… timid when she came in. She was never like that.” 
Azriel let out a sigh and held Nesta’s gaze. “I know how this feels, but you can’t… you can’t blame her for this. You can’t punish her, Nesta. She needs you, too.” 
“She hasn’t needed me this entire time, obviously. That was decided rather quickly.” 
Azriel sighed again, but before he could help his sister sort out the myriad of emotions he knew she was feeling, you groaned and the sound rattled against his skin. The Shadowsinger pulled you away from his body but kept his arms holding you up. Your lashes slowly fluttered before you pressed your palm into your eye socket. 
“Gods, ow,” you complained. “I hate that part.” 
Azriel offered you a melancholy laugh and brushed his lips along your forehead—always stolen touches with him. “I’m sorry, my love.” He paused, sending a sidelong glance toward Nesta. The younger fae was frozen in place. “Can I get you anything?” 
“The cold compress, maybe?” 
“Cass is already on it. He’ll be back soon.” Another pause as you gathered your bearings. Azriel rubbed soothing circles into any skin he could reach. “Share now or later?” 
The question was routine now. Some memories were easy for you to share, spouting them off as soon as you woke up like in the case of the first kiss you had learned about three days ago. Others hurt as if you were reliving them in the moment, like when Rhys was taken under the mountain or when you remembered the pain of Day Court. 
So Azriel would wait, and then he would ask. 
And if he needed to hold you as you cried afterward, he would do that, too. 
Your tongue darted out to wet your drying lips and then your expression pinched. You sat up fully to examine the room, still disoriented if Azriel could tell anything by the rapid way your eyes moved, but you were looking for something—or someone, maybe. 
When you looked over your shoulder and found Nesta’s frozen form, recognition shone in your hazy eyes. 
“I remembered you,” you revealed. You twisted from Azriel’s grip to sit on the floor before her. “We were talking. Or, I was talking and you were… angry at me for something. We were in a terribly awful apartment. I think it was yours.” Your brows came together as you searched through the memory. You looked back up. “You were afraid then too.” 
Azriel didn’t have a moment to protest before Nesta had her arms thrown around your shoulders, her grip on your sweater visibly unshakeable. You had to stabilize a hand behind you to keep upright, and even though Azriel knew your head throbbed after getting a memory back, you didn’t make a sound. 
“You’re going to be fine,” Nesta angrily demanded, sounding as if she were placing a curse. “You are stronger than this.” 
A minute ticked by, and then another. Azriel sat idly by as Nesta held you against her and you held her back without as much context, but just as tightly. 
“Well,” Cassian re-entered the sitting room, cold compress held loosely in his hand. “This seems to be going better.” 
~~~
A few days after meeting, and somewhat understanding, Nesta Archeron, you found yourself on a walk with Azriel following the resurfacing of a particularly painful memory. It was something from the war—Azriel was hurt, barely alive, and you were helpless and miles away from him. The memory was mostly just remnants of pain and fear, and it had taken Azriel fifteen minutes to calm you down after. 
But that was fine—it was good. Because for every painful memory came several good ones, and those memories made it worth it. You almost felt lucky to experience many of them for the first time again. 
“Can I ask you something?” you posed, swinging your conjoined hands as they intertwined between you. You loved holding Azriel’s hand—especially after the first time you’d initiated the contact and he blushed so furiously it warmed his skin. 
“Of course you can,” came Azriel’s soft reply. 
The low sounds of Velaris winding down laid the background of the conversation. The occasional merchant sweeping outside their shop would wave to the two of you, and although you still didn’t recognize them all, it didn’t hurt as much to grin and greet them. A few of them reintroduced themselves with warm smiles after hearing of your condition, but others just appeared happy to see you in any context. 
“When I remembered us after we were married,” you began. “Where were we? I’ve been in most of the rooms in the House and I can’t find it.” 
“Ah,” Azriel hummed. His mouth curved up in a beautiful half-smile. “I was wondering when you’d ask about that.” 
“You’ve been keeping something from me!” you accused with a playful gasp. 
“No, no, not keeping it from you, angel. I wanted you to find it on your own.” 
“What do you mean find it on my own? I’ve only recently been able to find my study in the House and I lose my way if I start in certain corners.” 
Azriel chuckled, his eyes squinting at the corners. 
This felt so good—so normal. 
This felt like something that could last. 
“How many times have I taken you on this walk?” he asked, gently guiding you forward on cobblestone. 
“Are you changing the subject?” Azriel shot you a knowing look that had you rolling your eyes. “Fine,” you relented. “Almost every other day.” 
“Why do you think that is?” 
“It’s a nice path. The street isn’t too busy but there’s a lot to look at,” you shrugged. “I thought you just liked it.” 
Azriel brought you to a stop away from the street. “Look a little deeper.” He gestured around with his chin. 
There was nothing out of the ordinary, not at first. He had stopped you in a quieter corner of the street, one you always admired each time you passed it. Soft foliage lined each house you passed, purples and blues and muted yellows obviously cared for among old brick and stone. Gentle water could be heard in the distance, most likely from fountains or small wells meant to provide for families. In the setting sun, the houses were peaceful, serene. 
Something called to you. It was inexplicable, but you found yourself without the urge to inspect why you were being called. Your power was usually unexplainable—at least that’s what it felt like—but this was different. 
You turned to look on at the quaint cottage Azriel had stopped you in front of. 
“Does this place mean something?” you asked, knocking your head to the side as you took in the ivy that trailed up tanned stones. 
Azriel could be felt at your back, the Illyrian bringing his hands up to rest on your shoulders. “Yes. What does your intuition tell you?” 
“I don’t think my magic works like that.” 
“Just give it a shot,” Azriel chuckled by your ear. 
It was when his lips pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek, stealing your breath away, that you hoped for more. That your intuition prompted you to ask for more. 
“Is this… Do we live here?” 
You could feel Azriel’s smile near your skin. You turned to face him, his hands dropping from your shoulders as your expression shifted into pleasant disbelief. Azriel’s smile was twisted into permanent light on his face, and he brushed your hair behind your ears as you stared up at him. 
“We do. Picked it out right after we were married. We didn’t think raising a family in the House of Wind was very feasible long-term.” Azriel jolted, stuttering for a moment. “Not that we need to raise a family! Now, or ever, actually. That was just something we talked about before, but things are different now and just having you—” 
“Azriel,” you smiled, interrupting his rambling by sliding your arms around his shoulder. “Can I ask you something else?” 
Azriel blushed, closing his eyes with a sigh as he nodded in defeat. 
“Will you kiss me?” 
His eyes snapped open, the hazel searching yours with a quickened intensity. “Are you sure?” he asked. His hands were on your waist and you couldn't remember him putting them there. “You don’t have to—” 
“I remember our first kiss,” you countered. Your eyes flickered down to the ring hanging around his neck. That question would be for another time. “Seems only fair that I’d get to experience one in real-time, don’t you think?”
“You don’t want to go in the house? Go see it?” he whispered, but he was leaning down as he spoke the words, his eyes glued to your lips. 
“I think I’ll have time later.” 
When his lips met yours, Azriel exhaled deeply, the hands on your waist pulling you closer with desperation lining his skin. He deepened the kiss in a way that seemed unintentional, intrinsic, and you saw stars behind your lids as he covered your mouth with his and kissed you harder. You had to take a step back to steady yourself and he only followed, his wings coming around your back to press you tighter. 
Something rumbled in the back of Azriel’s throat as your fingers twined through his hair. You only had the faint memory of a kiss, but that one was much different than this. That kiss had been sweet and tentative. This kiss was desperate and needy and you could feel the way Azriel missed you in each of his touches.
And, Gods, did you miss him, too. Differently—a way you couldn’t even understand—but you missed him. 
When you pulled back, you were met with Azriel’s furrowed brow, his eyes flickering between both of yours. He kept you close as you let out a breathy laugh. 
“Do you always kiss me like that?” 
“I should,” he breathed, and then he kissed you and kissed you until your back met the front door of your home. 
~~~
“Things wouldn’t be so bad, you know,” Mor announced, breaking the silence in the room. “If you didn’t get everything back.” 
You glanced up from the diary you’d been poring over, bookmarking the page as you stared up at your friend. “What do you mean?” 
“I just mean if you had gaps, maybe things you never remembered, that would be okay,” Mor continued, rising to sit beside you on the loveseat. 
She had come to visit you in the cottage—your cottage—bringing you one of your diaries they had hidden in the House of Wind. You had eagerly ripped it from her hands and dove into the contents, barely greeting her as you ushered her in and flipped the door shut. 
“Well, the goal is everything,” you explained. You held up the diary and gave it a small shake. “That’s why Az and I asked for these. And there are still people out looking for the witch.” 
Mor kissed her teeth and sighed. “But it would be okay,” she repeated. “If you never got it all back. It would be okay if you were just like this, all the time.” 
“What, is there something you’re hoping I won’t remember? Something embarrassing?” you teased, but Mor didn’t laugh. 
“I’ve been thinking about something you said a little while ago. It’s been bothering me. I talked to Azriel about it too, and I just… I need you to know that we all love you—that I love you—just as you are now. You aren’t a ghost.” 
The smile fell from your lips. You placed the diary down in your lap and turned to face Mor, taking her hands in yours. “Mor, I know that. I didn’t mean—” 
“No, you were right. We were talking as if you weren’t there and that wasn’t fair. None of this is fair, but especially not that. You have to know, y/n, that the way you are, right now, that’s still you. I’m sorry. We’ve all been idiots.” 
You huffed out a small chuckle. “I mean I wasn’t going to say it.”
Some of the light returned to Mor’s eyes, masking the grief that lingered there. “See, there you are.” 
You gripped her hands tighter, yanking her in for a hug. “I forgive you, Mor.” 
She clutched at your shirt and laughed. “Thank the Mother. Because Azriel wouldn’t shut up about keeping you all to himself. I was sick of the gloating.” 
“Azriel? Gloating?” you feigned a gasp, pulling back with a teasing smile. 
“You bring it out of him.” 
Memories came in different waves as time went on. Sometimes they were quick, difficult rememberings. Other times you were out for much longer and would wake up disoriented and confused. But you were never afraid of them. 
At first, the slow nature of their return did make you afraid. You had feared that this process would take too long and everyone would grow tired of waiting. Maybe Azriel would start rolling his eyes when you lost consciousness or Cassian would start to grumble every time you couldn’t connect the dots in one of his stories. The fear was real and it ate away at you for about one week before it was completely diminished. 
Because this conversation you were having with Mor—you’d had it with Azriel too. 
He had pressed his lips along your forehead and told you that it was fine if you couldn't remember everything, he’d just make you fall in love with him again. 
And maybe you were too afraid to tell him that he’d already succeeded at that feat. 
A comfortable silence fell over the room as you and Mor continued your independent tasks, you reading your diary, Mor flipping through a stack of correspondence she had brought along with her. The sounds of scribbling and creased parchment were reminiscent of the first few days after you lost your memory—Mor would bring work into your room and sit beside you as you nursed a headache. Hearing it in this context, in your home, felt like it had a meaning to it. 
Azriel 
It was later in the afternoon when the front door silently opened, Azriel removing his shoes by the door and setting off to find his mate in the cottage. He could hear someone else and mistakenly thought it to be Nesta before he spotted a head of bright-blonde hair beside you in the sitting room. Mor had been the only one in the family who hadn’t visited the cottage yet and relief filled his chest and the sight of her. 
You had started to worry that she didn’t want to see you. Azriel had reassured you several times that Mor just thought you didn’t want to see her after the way everyone acted, but his sweet words had done little to quell your fears. 
Your relationship with Mor had been different since you woke up; she had been the one person you could trust for a while. When he was afraid and messing everything up, Mor held your hand and talked you through his idiocy. 
He was glad some semblance of a reunion in his sitting room. 
“Hi, girls,” Azriel greeted, keeping his voice low to match the calm of the room. He leaned down beside your place on the loveseat, pressing a kiss to your hair. “Should I get a fire going? It’s cold in here.” 
You turned your head to grin up at him, and Azriel had to calm his heart as it skipped several beats. He was trying to be casual about all of this—about you in the seat you had claimed as yours several years ago, sitting beside your best friend and smiling up at him, looking as if you belonged here because you did—but you were making it very difficult with your pretty smile and the pretty way you blinked at him. 
“Hi, Az. Mor’s here,” you offered. 
“I see that, my love.” 
You smiled again, this time directing it towards Mor. “She brought one of my journals. It’s from before I met you all. I don’t have any memories of that time yet. Very informative.” 
“Thought we could go chronologically,” Mor quipped. She leaned up from the couch and stretched her arms. “I’ll let you guys get to it, then. With… whatever mates do.” 
“Will you be back?” 
Azriel’s heart hurt a little at the question, and he could tell by the softness in Mor’s gaze that she felt the same. 
“Of course. Just not when you and Nesta are having your book club. Made that mistake a few too many times,” she teased, sending parting words out the entryway. 
As soon as Mor had vacated the seat beside you, Azriel was occupying the space, rounding his arm over your shoulders and smashing you into his chest as he pressed kisses to your skin. You laughed and attempted to push him away, the journal now lost in a cushion, but Azriel was unrelenting. 
“I missed you,” he proclaimed. 
“I saw you this morning,” you giggled back, finally giving up and allowing the onslaught of affection. 
“Doesn’t matter. I spent weeks not touching you. You just started letting me kiss you.”
“We’ve been kissing for a few weeks now.” Azriel only hummed at your words and moved his hands to cup your face as he kissed your cheeks. “Gods, we sound like children.” 
“I love you.” 
Main POV
You opened your mouth to reply, but Azriel had already silenced you with his lips. You were breathless when he pulled away, all thoughts emptying from your brain. 
“How was your day?” he asked, removing himself from the tight grip he’d captured you in. But he still kept you glued to his side. 
You took a breath in and blinked. “Um, it was good. Mor came.” 
“You mentioned,” Azriel teased. “Any memories you want to talk about over dinner?” 
“None today. It’s been slow over the past few days, I’ve noticed.” 
Azriel brushed hair from your forehead. “That’s okay. They’ll come with time.” He paused. “Or they won’t.” 
The reminder of Azriel’s promise to you sat behind his words. It echoed Mor’s conversation earlier and you fought the reassurance and dread that battled within you. 
Because he was right. They might come, or they might not. 
Your family would love you either way. 
But, would you have to live with this feeling of… incompleteness forever as well? 
Would that fade with time? 
You offered a soft smile and leaned up to kiss the corner of Azriel’s mouth. “The things in the journal Mor gave me,” you began. “Usually, when one of you tells me about something from the past I feel a connection to it. Or I get a memory back. But I’ve been poring over this book—” you fished it out from the cushions. “—and, nothing. It’s like I’m reading a story and not my own words.” 
Azriel furrowed his brow. “That must be difficult to comprehend.” 
“It is,” you nodded. “And, that’s fine—I guess. Because none of you can really reinforce memories when you weren’t there. I just feel strange about it.” 
“Can I do anything to help?” 
You bit your lip as Azriel stared back at you with concern laced in his features. He was already doing everything he could to help, already pushing aside so much so you could find comfort in this confusing life you’d been dropped into. 
You watched the way he held himself back, the way he always kept himself close to Velaris and refused necessary missions to keep you near. You looked on without the means to help him as he stressed over the memories you’d receive. He spent countless hours retelling your story and holding you through difficult bouts of unconsciousness and taking it so, painfully slow with you. 
Maybe, if you really thought about it, this hole within you wasn’t that big of a deal. 
“Could you get that fire started?” 
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ashfae · 1 year ago
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The thing about romance is, it makes a good story.
As soon as Neil described season 2 as "quiet, gentle, romantic" I figured we'd be in for it, because as he's the first to point out, writers are liars. And the best way to deceive is with truth.
Season 2 is romantic. The trappings of romance are everywhere. Crowley tries to set up Nina and Maggie by trapping them under an awning during a rainstorm, a classic cinematic bonding technique. Aziraphale's chosen method comes from his beloved books: the ball, the dancing, appearing as a pair in public, hands held as you twirl gracefully with your heart thrilled and racing. If they can set up a sensational kiss that will unlock the happy ever after. They've lived on earth, they've studied the tropes, they know how romance works.
The problem is a story is only a story.
Nina and Maggie had the classic romantic setup completely by accident before Aziraphale and Crowley ever began trying to interfere with them. They get locked in Nina's coffeeshop. They can't escape or communicate with anyone else, they end up talking by candlelight because there's no electricity, Nina offers wine. Maggie mentions how she'd hoped for a chance to talk to Nina, and now here they are. It's every bit as much a standard as what Aziraphale and Crowley attempt to arrange. Blanket scenarios galore exist because of that starting point. We love that story. And there's nothing wrong with that.
But it's still only a story, it's not enough. Because once that moment of connection is over, however lovely it was, all the rest of the world comes flooding back in in the form of dozens of angry text messages. Nina's messy entrapping relationship hasn't magically gone away just because she and Maggie shared a romantic encounter.
And it's so tempting think oh well, that's easy. We'll just give them more romantic encounters and eventually those will overwhelm the rest of the baggage. Must do, because it'll make them fall in love, and once they realize they're in love that trumps all other considerations, right? So it'll be fine. Love Conquers All.
Neil also mentioned Pride and Prejudice.
Darcy knows he's in love early on and makes a disasterous proposal that shows that he has no understanding of Elizabeth's perspective, possibly hasn't even thought about it. They've been meeting in forest lanes for walks, conversing, had tete-a-tetes in the sitting room, danced at a ball. And while his turn of phrase isn't as flattering as he thinks, he's still offering her everything he thinks she wants and needs: affection, security, his good name, wealth, an escape from the embarrassments of her situation, the world. How can there be anything to object to? Why would anyone ever refuse so much of value?
Elizabeth quite rightly cuts him to pieces. He lashes back with a few hard truths of his own and they separate. During that separation, he thinks and he learns. He takes to heart the criticisms she offered, re-examines his assumptions, opens his eyes. Thinks about her perspective and how sometimes the only difference between pride and arrogance is where you're standing. He does the work. When they meet again he tries to demonstrate that he's learned--not in order to court her again (yet), but because the only real apology he can offer, the only one that would have weight, is to show that he's grown, he listened to her. He changed.
Elizabeth of course has her own journey, accepting that many of her own conclusions about Darcy were erroneous because they were formed without her having the full picture to hand, and once she's done that she has to apply it to her own situation as well. She loves her family, but they do place her at a disadvantage on a number of levels, leading eventually to full-out disaster as her younger sister carelessly ruins all of their reputations. It's hard to admit, it's mortifying, but Darcy was offering her a great deal she needs. His offer did have worth for all that she dismissed it as an insult. And as she learns to value his own character more highly, and then as she sees that he did listen to her even though she insulted him so thoroughly...well, she grows too. And when they do eventually come together it's not because of courting and balls. There's a big romantic gesture in his rescue of her sister but even that isn't why they'll get their happy ever after. It was just the catalyst for the conversation. They win because they've learned how to understand each other and how to communicate for the future. How they can strengthen and support each other, how to balance their strengths and weaknesses. The films leave them at the wedding, but the book shows a bit of their marriage too, and during it they keep learning from each other. Their relationship is held up as a superior love story for good reasons.
The end of season one was romantic too. Crowley stopped time rather than face a world where Aziraphale would never speak to him again, Aziraphale walked into hell to protect Crowley, they dined at the Ritz and toasted the world. But then they stopped. Sure they spent time together, talked, enjoyed each other's company. But if they were talking about important things would Crowley still be living in his car? They had a bit of respite but all that real world baggage that exists outside of the romantic moment hasn't been faced, none of it. Four or five years sounds like a long while but for beings who are quite literally older than the earth? That's just an intermission.
Nina's relationship ends, leaving her with a tangled mess; Maggie realises the sweet dream of love she's been longing for isn't as important as the real Nina. They talk. They plan. Nina will sort through her life, get closure, figure out what went wrong with Lindsay and what she wants from a relationship, learn how to ask for respect instead of just bending under her partner's demands. Maggie will support Nina the way Nina needs, which sometimes means helping her get oat milk for the shop and sometimes means giving her processing space. They're on the same page; they're going to do the work. That's why most likely they'll succeed. To quote one of my favourite fanfics: it's not happily ever after, but it's a chance. It's all going to be okay. (The Profane Comedy by Mussimm, who absolutely nailed this theme)
The romance is nice, it's lovely. We need it to keep ourselves going. To give ourselves the dreams that help us get through the days and nights. But it's not the relationship. It's not enough on its own. The wedding can be the grandest most beautiful ceremony ever with doves flying and sweeping music and bells ringing, but that doesn't guarantee the marriage will last.
Crowley and Aziraphale have had their romantic gestures, oodles of them. One wing raised to protect the other from falling stars, another from rain. Shared ground, shared interests, hands offered in friendship and held on a bus. They've tried to get to the same page, they really have. They just aren't there yet. The biggest most important things still haven't been talked about, and season 2 showed there are even more of those big important things than we'd realised.
The show paints Maggie as Aziraphale's foil and Nina as Crowley's, even to the point of Nina casually calling Maggie 'angel'. But Aziraphale's baggage is Nina's. The toxic relationship has to be processed and understood and closed, and it hasn't been, despite season one. Lindsay never really liked Nina very much, for all that they tried to keep her trapped; Heaven never really liked Aziraphale very much for all that he believed in it. They both let themselves be used. But Lindsay left Nina and went to their sister's, whereas now the head of Heaven has reached out to Aziraphale and said here, we can fix this, you can fix this, don't you want to fix this? Others are already writing about that and maybe I'll add to it later, not sure. And Crowley, like Maggie, has had a sweet dream that he has to set aside. Maybe he'll be able to pick it up again eventually, maybe not. But sometimes you offer support by buying oat milk or rescuing your beloved from the legions of hell, and sometimes you do it by standing back while they sort through their shit.
Quiet, gentle, romantic. It was.
But that's only part of the story. Now they have to do the work. They thought they had, but they were wrong, because there's so much they just hadn't touched yet and tried to cover over with relief and sleight of hand and alcohol and forgiveness. The apology dance doesn't mean much without showing that you listened and learned. They've faced so much trauma already and that should have been enough, we wanted it to be enough and so did they and it's such a blow for it to turn out that there's still more to do, that the baggage hasn't just gone away and can't be hidden under blankets or soothed with cocoa. The texts are still coming in and demanding answers.
But it'll be okay. It will. It's still a chance. And one that in the long run makes them better, builds something real that lasts.
The best stories, the ones that last longest and become classics, are the ones that don't end with the kiss under the awning or the blanket scenario or the wedding. They're the ones that heal us while the characters heal themselves. It's hard to accept that there's still more to do. Harder to imagine how it can possibly work out. And yes, bloody frustrating to wait and see.
And we'll get through that interim by telling even more stories. Because the story is never just a story. It's how we get through the work, it's what we tell ourselves so we can do the damn work. Stories are what we cling to and how we remind ourselves we're human and connect. A book is a person you can carry with you. We're not alone, none of us, stories connect us because we love them and see ourselves in them, which means we see each other.
Aziraphale's back up in Heaven to deal with his unfinished baggage; Crowley left his behind long ago and it's clearly going to come back and bite him in the arse however much he tries to go his own way. And they can't help each other with that. Not yet.
But they'll get there. So will we.
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