#but i guess that’s just how things go huh….. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

spiicii · 2 days ago

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jey uso / rut

x fem!reader word count → 8.5k summary → jey goes into an unexpected rut in the middle of a match. now driven by animalistic desire and instinct, he’ll rip the entire backstage apart to find the one person he yearns for: you. notes → this is the ask that started it all but i've gotten a few other requests for this prompt too! thank you @darkandlight00 for showing interest and for @minteagalaxea and @acute-crashout-jeyuso for keeping me motivated. pls enjoy a gratuitous gunther beatdown as well as some wonderfully feral jey for your viewing pleasure. links → masterlist / taglist tags → alternative universe, alpha/beta/omega dynamics, possessive behavior, biting, bruises, daddy kink (if you squint), canon-typical violence, unprotected piv sex, knotting, ruts and heats, mentions of blood, scent marking, breeding kink

You stared at yourself in the bathroom mirror, reaching up to trace the bites and bruises Jey had left on your neck. He’d been uncommonly rough tonight, his mouth blazing a warpath across your delicate skin. While it wasn’t unusual for him to be possessive, the marks had been a little too deep, a little too bruising. The last time he’d marked you like this he’d been in his rut.

“M’sorry.”

Jey moved up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you close. His eyes flickered down to the rapidly darkening bruises at the base of your throat. You could tell he was remorseful, offering an apologetic kiss to your cheek when he met your gaze in the mirror.

"Guess I went a little overboard, huh?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, leaning your head back to press a kiss to the underside of his jaw. “Just a little.”

Jey pulled you closer, nosing at the sweet spot behind your ear to scent mark you. You rolled your eyes, but didn’t push him away. He’d been uncommonly clingy today, rubbing his scent on you every chance he got. As if you could ever smell like anyone else.

“I hate this.” He muttered, his brow furrowed as he stared down at you.

“Hate what?”

“Those stupid heat suppressants. They starting to take your scent away.”

You met his frustrated gaze in the mirror, offering him a reassuring smile. “I know, sweetheart, but that’s the point. It’ll be better this way.”

Jey pouted, but he didn’t argue. You both knew how important it was for you to be on the pills now that you’d started this new job. Being backstage at WWE meant that you were surrounded by alphas. As an unmated omega, your scent would be nothing but a distraction. And the last thing you needed was going into heat at a job with so many unmated alphas roaming around.

“It don’t feel right.” Jey muttered, still trying to take in as much of your scent as he could. You’d only be on the pills for a few days, but they were already beginning to do their job. In a few weeks you’d barely have a scent at all.

“Those are your instincts talking, baby.” You told him, reaching up to run your fingers through his soft hair. “You already get mad when another alpha even looks in my direction. You think you’ll be any different at work?”

“You could just not work at all.” Jey met your eyes in the mirror again, his arms tight around your waist. “Stay home. Let me take care of you.”

He scraped his teeth across the scent glands on your neck, the implication clear.

You knew he wanted to make things official and mate you, but you didn’t feel ready. You’d grown up with parents who had mated too quickly and things hadn’t ended well for them. You’d seen what happens when a mated pair grows to loathe each other. No matter how unhappy they were, they couldn’t leave. Couldn’t move on. They were still a slave to their instincts, their biology tying them together until one of them died.

You couldn’t go through that. You wouldn’t go through that, especially with Jey. You didn’t want to mate until you were completely certain it was what both of you wanted. If you were going to be tied together for life, you had to be sure.

Still, you couldn’t deny the small thrill that ran through you as Jey nosed at the mating mark on your neck, your body instinctively leaning into his touch. There was a small part of you that wanted to let him bite there, officially claiming you as his, but you forced yourself to move away.

“I don’t want to stay home.” You murmured, reaching up to play with his beard. “I want to work. This is important to me, Jey. I’m not ready to give up my career just yet.”

Jey seemed disappointed, but he didn’t argue with you. Instead, he moved his hand to rest over your stomach, right above where you womb sat. His dark eyes met yours. He seemed almost hopeful, a silent promise for a future you both wanted but weren’t yet ready for.

You resisted the instinctual urge to purr, knowing it would only encourage him.

“I’m going back to bed.” You told him instead, standing on your tiptoes to press a gentle kiss to his bearded cheek. “You coming?”

Jey could only nod, watching as you made your way back to the bedroom.

You and Jey had been dating for almost two years now, but it had taken some time for you to work up the courage to move in with him. You’d never had a partner to nest with before. Nesting was intimate. Just one step closer to mating.

Despite your fears, you couldn’t deny how natural it felt with Jey. He’d allowed you to follow your instincts and create a nest in your shared bedroom, ensuring that your scents were mixed together amongst the mountain of blankets and pillows you’d piled onto the bed. You’d put a canopy up to make it feel more like a den, the omega inside you yearning for a small space to feel safe in.

It was your favorite place in the world.

You quickly climbed up onto the bed, motioning for Jey to join you. To your surprise, Jey just stood there and stared at you instead, his dark eyes inscrutable.

You furrowed your brow in confusion. “What’s wrong?”

Jey shifted uneasily. “I don’t know,” he murmured, rubbing his hands together nervously. “I think I need to check the house.”

You raised an eyebrow. He got like this sometimes, whenever he was feeling particularly protective, usually before his ruts. He would do a “check” of the house, ensuring that every window was locked, every door was closed, every curtain was drawn. It made him feel better, knowing that he was making your nest safer, that instinct to protect you driving him to pace the house restlessly until he was convinced his territory was safe.

But he shouldn’t be feeling like that now. His rut wasn’t due until the winter. You wondered if your heat suppressants were throwing him off, making him restless and confused. You knew how strongly alphas responded to scent changes, especially in their partners.

“Sweetheart, we’re okay.” You offered him a reassuring smile, motioning for him again. “Come back to bed.”

Jey shook his head, now beginning to move around the room in agitation. “No. No, I gotta keep you safe.”

He quickly moved to the window, checking each lock with a worried expression. You stood and reached out to him, a soft hand resting on his arm.

“Baby, it’s alright.” You murmured. You let out a subvocal purr, an instinctual urge to soothe the restless alpha. “We’re safe. It’s okay.”

Jey was quick to snatch you up, picking you up with ease and carrying you back to bed before you could argue.

“Stay.” He growled, his eyes much darker than usual. You stared at him in confusion, even as your body instinctively relaxed at his dominant words, the urge to obey him overwhelming.

“Jey.” You pleaded, though he wasn’t paying any attention to you. He continued to check the room, eventually leaving to no doubt check the rest of the house as well.

You curled up deeper into your nest while you waited for him. Why was he so protective tonight? Your hand came up to trace the bites on your neck. His unusual roughness, combined with the uptick in his protectiveness, were usually signs of his pre-rut. But how was that possible? Jey’s ruts had been consistent since he first presented as a teenager. They’d never changed, no matter how much stress he was under. While it wasn’t impossible for alphas to have multiple ruts a year, Jey never had before.

Perhaps it really was your heat suppressants causing all this. The thick booklet the doctor had given you detailing the side effects of the drug discussed the effect the suppressants had on scent. And alphas weren’t exactly known for dealing with scent changes well, especially in their mates.

But we’re not mated. You told yourself. Although the mingled scents of your nest told a different story.

Eventually Jey returned, still rubbing his hands together anxiously as he paced the room. You sat up to look at him, beginning to purr again in an effort to soothe him.

“Jey, sweetheart, please come back to bed.”

Jey didn’t seem convinced, doubling back to the bedroom door to make sure it was locked again.

You sighed. You’d have to get creative if you wanted him to join you.

“I’m so lonely without you, baby,” You whined, laying it on a bit thicker than usual. You offered him your best bedroom eyes. “I need you. Please, Daddy. Come to bed.”

Jey was on top of you so quickly that you couldn’t help but laugh.

*****

You were sore the next morning.

Jey had fucked you through most of the night, that possessive look in his eyes never fading no matter how many times he came inside you. If Jey’s biology hadn’t been so consistent throughout his life, you would have been convinced it was his pre-rut.

You were grateful when he woke up the next morning back to his old self again. He was all smiles and jokes as he kissed you awake, his body relaxed as he held you close. And when you left the nest to make him breakfast, he had no objections, merely following you to the kitchen to keep you company as you scrambled some eggs.

He looked so good this morning, his sweatpants slung low on his hips and his chest bare as he leaned against the kitchen island. His mullet was still messy from sleep, his tattoos glistening in the morning light that slanted through the windows. If you weren’t so sore from last night, you’d probably ask him to fuck him right here on the kitchen counter. Instead, you asked him, “Are you feeling okay this morning? You seemed…different last night.”

Jey raised an eyebrow. “What kind of different?”

You rolled your eyes, motioning to the bruises on your neck. “Don’t you feel like this was a bit much?”

Jey seemed apologetic. He shuffled to your side, pressing a kiss to a particularly nasty bruise he’d left beneath your jaw. “I told you I was sorry.” He mumbled, wrapping his arms around your waist again to pull you close. “I ain’t mean to take it that far.”

You sighed. “I know, baby. I’m not mad. I’m just worried about you.”

“Why?” Jey’s tone was defensive, his body tensing behind you. “Ain’t nothing wrong with me.”

You didn’t want to argue with him, but you also didn’t want him going to work if he was about to go into a rut. You turned around to stare at him. “You don’t think maybe these are all signs?”

“For a pre-rut?” Jey scowled. “It can’t be. I already had mine this year.”

“I know, but-”

“You worrying for no reason.” Jey interrupted, keeping his long arms wrapped around your waist. “I told you I’m fine. So, I wanna check my house and keep my girl safe? That a bad thing?”

“No, but-”

“Then don’t worry.” Jey pressed a reassuring kiss to your cheek. “Please. I don’t like seeing you get worked up.”

You frowned, but you didn’t argue with him. Maybe he was right. If he really was in his pre-rut, you doubt he would have let you leave the nest at all this morning, let alone come into the kitchen to cook for him. Still, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. He still seemed on edge, his words a little too defensive to have you convinced that he was fine.

But then Jey smiled at you, his face so open and happy that you couldn’t help but smile back. No, you were wrong. Jey was fine. You were worrying for nothing. He was fine. Everything was fine.

*****

When you arrived at the arena that afternoon, you gave Jey a quick hug, already preparing to part ways. You both had responsibilities tonight.

“I’ll see you after the show, baby,” you murmured, standing on your tiptoes to peck a quick kiss to his lips. “Good luck in your match tonight.”

You moved away, as if to leave, but Jey was quick to grab your wrists, pulling you back into his chest.

“Jey.” You complained, trying to wiggle from his grasp. “You gotta go see your trainers.”

Jey’s hand was quick to grab your jaw, forcing your face up to look at him. You immediately stilled.

“You’ll be waiting for me?” he asked, his tone urgent. “After my match?”

You gave him a strange look. “Of course, baby. Don’t I always?”

“You won’t leave.” It sounded more like a command than a question. His eyes seemed darker than usual and you noticed that his hand on your face felt hot to the touch. “You won’t leave the arena.”

“Why would I leave? Won’t you need a ride home?” You tried to chuckle but Jey didn’t even crack a smile, his hand on your jaw tightening.

“You’ll stay here and wait for me.” There was an edge behind his words, his pupils blown wide as he stared at you. “You won’t go anywhere. And when the show’s over, we’ll go home.”

You let out a small whimper at the punishing grip he kept on your jaw and Jey blinked, seemingly unaware of how tightly he was holding you. He quickly released your face, shaking his head in confusion.

“Sorry, I-” He seemed uncertain, wiping some new beads of sweat that were forming on his brow. “I just felt a little weird there for a second.”

You couldn’t help but purr, an instinctive reaction at the sight of his distress, and Jey immediately relaxed at the sound. It was something omegas did to soothe their alphas and you were grateful that Jey reacted so well to it. He dropped his head onto your shoulder, allowing you to pet his hair in reassurance. You could practically feel the heat radiating off him.

“Jey,” You couldn’t keep the worried tone out of your voice. “I think we should-”

“Jey! There you are!” One of his trainers had found the two of you in the parking lot. He looked breathless, as if he’d been running to look for him. “We got a lot of shit to cover tonight. Let’s go, come on.”

Jey immediately straightened, pulling away from you. He passed a hand over his face and you could tell he was trying to pull himself together. “Yeah, yeah. You got it, uce.”

Jey looked back at you, his gaze apologetic. “Sorry, honey.” He murmured. “I’ll see you after the show.”

You frowned. “Jey, I don’t think it’s-”

“Hunter’s been looking for you, Jey.” The trainer interrupted, motioning to him with urgency. “Come on, we need to go. Like now.”

Jey quickly followed, casting one final look over his shoulder at you before retreating. You nervously watched him leave. Should you follow him? It was clear something was off.

Your phone vibrated and you groaned when you saw the missed messages. Your coworkers were already looking for you, no doubt eager to begin prepping for the show. You quickly responded that you were on your way, forcing your anxieties down. Jey was a grown man. He knew his body better than anyone. If he felt he could get through his match tonight, you trusted him.

You had no other choice.

*****

“Hey, sis.” Jimmy’s smile was wide, pulling you into a tight hug in greeting. “Where you been all night?”

You returned his hug with a laugh. “I’m working now, remember? Gotta go where they tell me.”

“True, true.” Jimmy chuckled, pulling away from the hug to smile at you. He was dressed casual tonight, wearing his usual hoodie and black joggers, his gold chain glittering in the light. Although he was normally on SmackDown, he still came to Monday Night Raw whenever he could to see the two of you. You knew he couldn’t go too long without seeing his twin.

“Hopefully they ain’t working you too hard.” Jimmy teased, giving you a gentle nudge with his elbow. “I know how Hunter can get.”

You shook your head. “Nah. I like it. And getting to come to work with Jey has been nice too.”

“Yeah.” Jimmy’s smile dropped at the mention of his brother’s name, his face suddenly worried. “That’s actually what I was hoping to talk to you about.”

“What? About Jey?”

“Mm hm.” Jimmy moved closer to you, lowering his voice so others couldn’t overhear. “I saw him earlier tonight. What’s going on with him? He seems off.”

You swallowed. Was it that obvious? Or was it just because it was his twin? You knew the two had a special bond.

Jimmy seemed to notice the conflict on your face. “Is he sick or something? He just seemed weird to me when we talked earlier.”

“I don’t know.” You admitted, fidgeting uncomfortably under Jimmy’s worried gaze. “He kept saying he was fine. But he was acting weird last night too.”

“What kind of weird?”

You shifted uneasily and Jimmy caught sight of the bruises you’d been hiding beneath your hoodie, his eyes narrowing at the sight.

“He do that to you?”

You didn’t answer and Jimmy gave a concerned look.

“That’s ain’t like him. Unless he’s in his pre-rut.” Jimmy raised an eyebrow. “Is he?”

You sighed. “I don’t know. I thought so at first. He got so protective last night, like he normally does before his ruts. Then with how long he kept me up…” You didn’t finish the sentence, suddenly very aware that you were still in public. “But he let me out of the house today, Jim. He wouldn’t do that if it was that time of year. And he’s already had his rut back in February, so it can’t be. Can it?”

Jimmy seemed uncertain, rubbing his neck in an uncharacteristic display of nervousness. “I don’t know.” He admitted. “He ain’t ever had more than one a year before, but it’s not impossible. He’s been under a lot of stress at work.”

You stared up at him, your own gaze just as nervous. “What should we do? You know he won’t leave. He’s got that match with Gunther tonight.”

“That’s what I’m worried about.” Jimmy pulled out his phone. “Look, I gotta cut this promo, then I’ll meet you in Gorilla. You’re gonna be there to watch his match, right?”

You nodded.

“Once I finish this, I’ll come join you. Then if some shit goes down, I can be there.” He placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder, his gaze at you kind. “Don’t worry, sis. You know I ain’t gonna leave him hanging. He’s my brother. I got his back. And yours.”

You offered him a small smile, but it must have looked weak because Jimmy quickly pulled you into a hug. You allowed yourself to relax into it, knowing that he was trying to ease some of your fears. You knew Jimmy wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you. Or his brother. The Bloodline operated like a pack and although you weren’t officially Jey’s mate, they knew you were his chosen. That made you one of them, which meant that Jimmy was responsible for you, just as he was for any other omega who joined his pack.

“It’ll be alright,” he murmured, nosing behind your ear to scent mark you in reassurance. You relaxed even more at his smell. It wasn’t quite the same as Jey’s, but it was close enough to calm you. “Just hang in there. I’ll meet you in Gorilla.”

You nodded, forcing yourself to take a deep breath as Jimmy squeezed your shoulder and walked away.

You needed to keep it together. This wasn’t the time to succumb to your instincts, no matter how badly the omega inside you wanted to drop everything and seek Jey out. The mere idea of your alpha in distress had your heart racing, your hormones going haywire at the thought.

When you arrived to Gorilla Position, you tried not to fidget, offering a polite smile to everyone who greeted you. You were glad when Jimmy finally arrived.

“Hey.” Jimmy’s hand was on your shoulder again and your body instinctively leaned into his touch. “You okay?”

You forced yourself to nod, though you knew it didn’t look convincing. Your instincts were beginning to cloud your mind, seeking out a strong alpha like Jimmy to keep you grounded in your distress.

Thankfully, Jimmy was able to sense it.

“It’s alright.” he soothed, nosing behind your ear again to offer you more of his scent. You wanted it to comfort you, but it didn’t. He didn’t smell right. You wanted Jey. He was your partner. Your chosen. And you couldn’t stop worrying about him.

“I think I messed up, Jimmy.” You admitted, wringing your hands together nervously. “I knew something was wrong, but I still let him come here. I should have kept him at home. I should have seen the signs.”

“Hey,” Jimmy’s arms were around you again, pulling you into another hug. He’d had plenty of experience with Naomi to know when an omega was beginning to spiral. He kept his arms tight around you, your body instinctively relaxing in his hold. “We don’t know for sure what’s going on. But whatever it is, we know that Jey can handle it. And we’ll be here for him the whole time, right?”

You nodded into his hoodie, forcing yourself to control your breathing. You knew that your hormones were fueling your anxiety, making it difficult to separate fact from fiction. Just the knowledge that your alpha might be in any kind of pain or trouble was triggering this, you knew, but you had to resist it the best that you could.

A few people around you began to murmur and realized that Gunther was making his way through Gorilla, ready to be in position for his entrance. You watched as his nostrils flared, his eyes turning to meet yours once he caught wind of your scent.

You didn’t miss the protective way Jimmy’s arm wrapped around you, his hackles immediately raised as the Ring General approached.

“You must be Jey Uso’s mate.” Gunther said, stepping forward until he was in your personal space. You huddled closer to Jimmy on instinct, feeling safer in the arms of an alpha you trusted. “I can smell him on you. Him and his pack.”

He met Jimmy’s burning gaze and grinned when the older twin curled his lip in anger.

“You smell distressed, little one.” Gunther mused, his gaze down at you curious. “Worried about what I will do to your mate tonight?”

“You better watch yo’ mouth, uce.” Jimmy snarled, the scent of his anger bleeding into the air around you. “Or else you won’t even make it out to the ring.”

Gunther seemed amused by the threat, offering Jimmy a smirk as he towered over you. You noticed that he was staring at you intently, his eyebrows raised when he finally caught sight of your neck.

“Well, well. I spoke too soon. No mating bite, I see. So, Jey is not truly your mate then, is he?” Gunther’s words were mocking, seemingly delighted by this revelation. “A shame he hasn’t officially claimed you, little one. Though I can’t say I’m surprised. Lesser alphas certainly aren’t as eager to stake their claim, are they?”

Jimmy took a step forward, his eyes blazing with anger, before one of the PAs intervened.

“Thirty seconds.” He informed Gunther, his eyes flickering between the two alphas. “You’d better take your position.”

The Ring General smirked, casting Jimmy one final look. “After I finish Jey tonight, you can tell your pack leader, Roman, to come find me. I wouldn’t mind a real challenge for a change.”

Gunther’s eyes swept over you one last time before he finally retreated, exiting Gorilla to make his way to the ring. You tried to swallow back some of the bile that had risen to your throat. Gunther’s smell had left a nasty taste in your mouth, his oppressive scent causing you to feel even more edge than before.

“I hate that fucker.” Jimmy muttered. He turned his gaze back to you, his expression softening. “You alright?”

You nodded, subconsciously reaching up a hand to touch the unclaimed part of your neck. You couldn’t deny that some of Gunther’s words had stung. He’d seemed far too amused to learn that Jey hadn’t officially mated you yet, his gaze at you almost triumphant, as if you had proven something that he’d known all along.

“Hey, don’t worry about him.” Jimmy said, his arm still wrapped around you to keep you close. “He just trying to get in your head. It’s a game to him. That’s all.”

You nodded again, leaning against his strong chest in an effort to calm your rattled nerves. You watched on the nearest TV as Gunther entered the ring, his expression cold as he stared down the throngs of booing fans. You didn’t miss the way his gaze flickered around him, no doubt searching for where Jey might enter from.

Thankfully, Jey didn’t keep him waiting long.

His music hit and the fans erupted into cheers, the ground beneath your feet shaking from the roar of the crowd. The camera found Jey amongst the audience and you couldn’t help but notice that he’d forgone his usual bright colors to wear all black, as if he were going to a funeral. He didn’t seem interested in reveling with the audience tonight, his face serious as he made his way down to the ring.

“He doesn’t seem like himself.” You murmured.

“He’s okay.” Jimmy was quick to reassure you, rubbing your arm in an attempt to comfort you. “It’s all part of the show.”

Was it?

The bell rang and Jey wasted no time, immediately charging Gunther and backing him into the corner, much to Gunther’s amusement. They exchanged a few words, but the microphone didn’t pick it up, the referee already pulling Jey back to give Gunther space to get out of the corner.

As the match continued, it was clear that Jey was agitated, not even bothering to acknowledge his adoring fans like he usually did, his eyes entirely focused on his opponent. You couldn’t help but notice that his body seemed stiff, his movements jerky as he attempted to keep up with Gunther’s punishing pace.

At one point, Gunther gave him a particularly brutal chop and you watched as Jey stumbled, his face twisted into a grimace.

“Come on, uce.” You heard Jimmy mutter, his eyes narrowed as he stared at the TV screen. “Don’t let him in your head.”

Gunther seemed determined to try. You watched as he grappled with Jey in the middle of the ring, chuckling something in his ear that the camera couldn’t pick up. Jey’s eyes burned in anger, shoving Gunther away to offer a superkick to his chin.

The crowd roared their approval, Gunther dazed as he stumbled into the ropes. But it was only momentary. When Jey tried to come at him again, Gunther was too quick, already grabbing Jey by the arm and slinging him into the turnbuckle. You watched in horror as Jey crumpled, his face a mask of pain.

You began wringing your hands together in nervousness, your body thrumming with anxiety as you watched Jey struggle back to his feet.

“It’s a shame I don’t have any worthy opponents for tonight,” You heard Gunther say, his expression smug as he kicked Jey in the stomach, forcing him back to his knees. “I was hoping for more of a challenge, Jey. You disappoint me.”

He grabbed Jey by the hair, forcing the smaller alpha to look up at him. “You’re not even the strongest in your pack. They could have at least given me the other twin. That would have been less of an insult.”

You realized that Jey’s mouth was bleeding, his lip split from where it had collided with the turnbuckle. You watched in horror as Gunther quickly hauled Jey to his feet, his smile sadistic as he held him up by the hair. “Your pack leader is the only one I see fit to challenge me. But he’s not here to protect you anymore, is he, Jey?”

Before you realized what was happening, Gunther had maneuvered Jey’s body in front of him, picking him up with ease and slamming down onto the mat in a brutal powerbomb. Jey groaned in pain, his eyelids fluttering as he struggled to crawl away.

Gunther laughed, continuing to spit insults even as Jey grabbed at the ropes in an attempt to pull himself up. His trash talk was difficult to hear over the boos from the crowd, but you still managed to catch one word: omega.

Your blood ran cold. You watched as Jey froze, still on his knees with his head turned away from the camera. His chest was heaving, his knuckles blanched from how hard he was gripping the ropes. Gunther didn’t seem to notice, still taunting him with a self-satisfied grin on his face.

You could feel Jimmy tense beside you, clearly understanding, just as you were, that Gunther had said something very wrong.

You weren’t exactly sure what happened next. One minute Jey was kneeling near the ropes, his head bowed and his body tense. The next minute he was exploding from the mat, attacking Gunther with such ferocity that even the crowd was stunned.

Gunther landed on his back with a loud thud. Jey was quickly on top of him, landing blow after blow to his face. His expression was murderous, his teeth bared like an animal. And when the camera zoomed in, you could see that his pupils had swallowed the soft brown of his irises, his eyes wild as he continued to pummel Gunther with his fists.

You clutched Jimmy’s arm in fear. You wanted to speak but you couldn’t, realizing with horror that Gunther’s taunting, likely about you, had finally triggered Jey’s rut.

Jimmy quickly pulled away, approaching Hunter and the other producers from where they sat behind the desk.

“Cut the match!” You heard him demand, his tone now laced with panic. He didn’t want the world to see his brother in such a vulnerable state. “He can’t continue! Rule it a DQ, now!”

You could hear Jimmy and Hunter arguing, but you weren't able to turn around to look at them. Your eyes were glued to the screen, watching with horror as Gunther put his hands up in an attempt to push Jey off him. Gunther was stronger, but Jey was meaner. He was quick to shove Gunther’s hands away, landing a particularly nasty strike to his nose that caused blood to spray across the mat.

You realized that Gunther’s shoulder wasn’t entirely off the mat, leaving the referee with no choice but to try to pull Jey off of him. Jey snarled, the sound so loud and animalistic, even through the camera, that the hair on the back of your neck stood up. The referee quickly backed away, beginning the five count.

The crowd was going wild. Michael and Pat’s commentary was almost impossible to hear over the commotion, though you could imagine that they were scrambling to find some kind of explanation for Jey’s irrational behavior.

The referee reached the five count and the bell rang, effectively ending the match, but Jey still refused to move, continuing to bludgeon Gunther’s face with angry, hard-hitting punches.

You heard Hunter shouting for security, all the producers around him all rapidly talking over their headsets. You jumped when Jimmy grabbed you by the arm. “You need to leave.” He told you, his tone urgent.

“What?”

“He can’t find you here.” Jimmy insisted, his eyes flickering to the screen as more referees got involved, still trying to pull Jey off of Gunther. “He’ll jump you right here in front of everyone and we won’t be able to move you. You gotta get further backstage.”

You were nodding in agreement, though your mind was racing. Where would you go? Backstage was crawling with staff and talent.

“Gimme your hoodie.” Jimmy demanded. You hesitantly allowed him to pull it over your head, staring at him in confusion.

“He won’t leave Gunther alone.” Jimmy pointed to the TV. You could see that security had finally entered the ring, trying their best to pull the feral alpha away from Gunther. Gunther had stopped fighting back a long time ago, now lying motionless on the mat, his face bloody.

“Your smell is the only way we can get him out of the ring. But once he gets your scent he’ll come back here looking for you.” He quickly pushed you towards the exit, motioning for you to leave. “Go. I’ll take care of everything else. It’ll be alright.”

You hesitated, unable to tear your gaze away from the screen. Jey’s face was hardly recognizable, his eyes wild. His teeth were bared as he tried to fight security, still bloodstained from his earlier collision with the turnbuckle.

“Go!” Jimmy pushed you again. “Unless you want this to happen right here in front of everyone.”

You didn’t, so you quickly obeyed, retreating further backstage as fast as your feet could carry you.

You ignored the concerned looks from your coworkers, a few of the wrestlers watching you with curious expressions. Most of them knew who you were, of course, and could probably infer what had happened in the ring tonight. You could hear various snippets from conversations as you walked past.

Did you see…Had to be a rut, right?

Damn, this hasn’t happened since Orton back in ‘09.

I never thought Jey would be the one to snap. I always thought it’d be Jimmy.

Come on, you know he can’t control it.

You think Hunter will give him a fine?

He tore Gunther up. So much for a match at Mania.

Isn’t that Jey’s mate? Guess he’ll be looking for her.

You tried to ignore them, your heart pounding in your chest as you made your way back to the staff locker room. You shakily pulled out your phone, trying to remember how long you’d been on the heat suppressants. Had it been a full week yet? They weren’t truly effective until you’d been on them for a full seven days. There was still a chance Jey could trigger your heat. Which meant there was still a chance he could get you pregnant.

You needed to get to your bag. You always carried an emergency heat contraceptive, just in case.

You heard a loud commotion behind you, the sound of Jey ripping apart the backstage echoing down the hallway. You could hear shouting, no doubt security trying to contain him. You realized that your scent was likely faint; Jey had just mentioned last night how it was beginning to fade. Perhaps that would give you more time.

You cursed yourself for getting into this situation in the first place. The signs had been obvious: his roughness with you, his obsession with keeping you safe, keeping you up all night with seemingly unlimited stamina. You never should have let him leave the house. Now you were stuck in a random arena, nowhere near your comfortable nest at home, with a feral alpha on the hunt for you. You were beginning to realize that wherever Jey found you, that’s where you would stay until his rut was over. And his ruts usually lasted two, maybe three days.

By the time you reached the staff locker room, your hands were shaking. You quickly shut the door behind you, grateful that the room was empty. You ran to your bag to search for the small syringe, the commotion from Jey’s pursuit growing louder and louder from outside the door. You heard what sounded like a table being thrown, Jimmy’s voice becoming clearer as he tried to calm his brother down.

Your hands were shaking so much that you dropped your bag, the contents spilling across the floor.

“Shit!” You fell to your knees, scrambling to find the contraceptive. Surely you hadn’t forgotten it? You could still hear the chaos of Jey’s search for you echoing down the hallway. He’d tear this entire arena apart if he didn’t find you soon.

You finally found the syringe, struggling to open the safety seal as Jey’s snarls grew louder. He was getting close. You didn’t have much time left.

By the time you jabbed the needle into your side, Jey had made it to the door.

You weren’t entirely prepared to see him like this. He seemed larger than life as he stood in the doorway, his nostrils flaring as he followed your scent. His lip was curled into a menacing snarl, his lip still split and his teeth bloody. And when his eyes landed on you, you could see his eyes grow darker, zeroing in on his prey.

You saw Jimmy standing behind him in the doorway, catching sight of the syringe in your hand.

“Oh, thank god.” Jimmy sighed in relief, and that’s when Jey moved.

He crossed the room impossibly fast, colliding into you with such a force that you both fell back onto the floor.

“Jey…” His name came out breathless, your heart thrumming like a frightened rabbit beneath his rough hands. His usual scent was much sweeter now, a side effect of his rut, and you felt dizzy with it. His heightened scent, combined with the feeling of him on top of you, had wetness rapidly forming between your legs.

Jey’s eyes widened, his nostrils flaring as the smell of your arousal bled into the air around you. He let out a low snarl, ripping away your shirt and pants and flipping you onto your stomach with ease. You gasped, your body shivering in anticipation as he started pushing his cock inside you.

You knew his mind was entirely focused on one thing: to breed. He wasn’t here to make you feel good. He was here to claim you, to take you and make you his. To fill you up with his seed and give you a litter of his pups. A low fog was beginning to settle over your mind at the thought, your back instinctively arching as Jey finally bottomed out.

You let out a moan as his massive length split you open. Jey growled again, his teeth digging into the back of your neck possessively as he began fucking into you. Pleasure was already beginning to unfurl from your core. Although he hadn’t prepped you beforehand, your body was taking him with ease, as if you were made for him. You could feel his knot beginning to form, your hole getting wetter and wetter to accommodate it.

Jey’s teeth dug deeper into your neck. His entire body was still shaking with adrenaline, but it didn’t slow him down. Instead, he fucked into you with the desperation only a rut could bring, his bloody hands gripping your hips as he continued to brutally thrust into you.

You arched your back even further at the feeling, soft pants of breath falling from your open mouth. You could already feel your first orgasm approaching even as his knot grew bigger, putting pressure on your insides.

“Jey.” You gasped, gushing around his cock without warning. You hadn’t expected to finish so quickly, your body shaking like a leaf beneath him. Jey let out a pleased sound, his knot reaching its full size inside of you when he finally came. His hips stilled. You could feel his throbbing cock pump you full, the knot keeping you tied together.

For the first time since Jey arrived, the room was quiet. You let out a shaky breath, resting your forehead against the floor. You were grateful the staff locker room had been empty. You had no doubt that Jey would have fucked you on the floor in front of everyone had you not made it here in time. While it wasn’t ideal, you had no choice now. Jey had claimed you here, so here is where you would stay until his rut ended. Jey could only act on instinct now, his biology completely hijacking his body and mind until it was satisfied.

Jey finally released his teeth from the scruff of your neck, softly licking at the skin he had torn in a wordless apology. You felt your body relax, even as your spasming hole continued to milk his cock as he stayed ball-deep inside of you.

You were glad your heat hadn’t been triggered yet. It would likely only prolong his rut and would leave you at the mercy of your own biology. The omega inside you was already unhappy with being away from your nest, feeling exposed and unsafe in this unfamiliar room. You couldn’t help but whimper and Jey was quick to check on you, leaning over you to nose at your cheek affectionately.

“Sis?” Jimmy’s voice had Jey growling again, his grip on your body tightening. “I need a sign of life, girl.”

You struggled to look over your shoulder, catching sight of Jimmy standing in the doorway. He looked worried, meeting your gaze with a concerned expression.

“You good?”

You could only nod, Jey whipping around to snarl loudly at his twin for the intrusion. He was vulnerable right now, his knot still keeping the two of you tethered. If Jimmy got too close, brotherly bonds wouldn’t matter. Jey would guard his territory, his instincts compelling him to challenge any alpha that got too close to his chosen omega.

“Alright, just hang in there. Trin’s on her way with supplies. We’re here for you, okay?”

You nodded again, unable to speak as Jey’s knot continued to pulse inside you. Jey was quick to lean over you, caging you in possessively until Jimmy finally retreated and closed the door behind him.

It took some time for Jey to finally relax, his eyes still darting to the door as if he expected another intrusion. Eventually his knot went down and you were able to pull apart, some of his come dribbling onto the floor below. You whimpered at the feeling and Jey was once again nosing at your cheek again, seemingly triggered by any sign of distress from you.

There was a couch on the other side of the room. It would feel a lot more comfortable than the floor, but when you made an effort to move in that direction Jey was quick to grab you, flipping you onto your back to keep you close.

His pupils were still blown wide, the blood from his split lip finally drying. You couldn’t be sure what he was thinking about as he gazed at you. He didn’t look like your Jey. Not right now. This Jey wasn’t quite human, his instincts making it difficult for him to form a coherent thought.

He furrowed his brow, his expression almost distressed, and you couldn’t help but reach up a hand to cup his cheek in reassurance.

“It’s alright.” You soothed. You couldn’t be sure what was upsetting him and you knew he didn’t have the capacity to speak right now. “We’re okay. I’m here, baby.”

Jey frowned, reaching out a hand to touch your face. His knuckles were bruises, the skin bloody from his vicious attack on Gunther. You watched as his brow furrowed deeper, trying to focus enough to speak.

“Mine.” He rasped, his voice an octave deeper than usual. “Mine.”

You couldn’t help but smile at him. Normally he wasn’t cognizant enough to speak, but you were pleased to hear him try. You reached up to pet his soft curls, watching with fondness as his eyelids fluttered at your touch.

“Yours.” You agreed.

Jey leaned down to kiss your neck and you let out a contented sigh, reaching your arms around him to keep him close. He nuzzled into your hair, his hands now gentle as he caressed your skin. Even when he was in his rut, acting on his most animalistic urges, Jey was still impossibly sweet. His instincts were to protect you. To keep you safe and happy. To love you.

Your heart swelled at the thought, suddenly filled with the stupid desire to bare your neck to him and allow him to mate you. Jey seemed to sense the shift, his teeth grazing across the mating mark on your neck. His instincts wouldn’t allow him to bite there unless you allowed it, but it didn’t stop him from nuzzling into it, almost a silent plea for you to finally let him claim you.

But it wouldn’t be right. You wanted the moment to be special. You wanted Jey to be fully cognizant and aware of what was going on, fully able to understand the significance of it. It wouldn’t be fair to do it now - not while he was in the middle of his rut and barely coherent. Barely human.

You could feel his cock twitching against the inside of your thigh, already gearing up for another round, and you couldn’t help but shudder at the sensation. That seemed to spur Jey into action.

He finally released your neck, leaning back up to push his rapidly hardening length back into you. He let out a low moan as he sank into the tight, wet warmth between your legs and you couldn’t help but writhe in pleasure, struggling to keep your eyes open as he bottomed out. God, he felt so big. You were grateful the two of you fucked enough for you to be used to this. Otherwise this wouldn’t be nearly as pleasurable as it felt now.

You let out a whine as his grip on you tightened, now beginning to hammer into you at full force. You scrabbled for purchase against his tattooed chest, his eyes dark as he stared down at you. He looked devastatingly beautiful like this, his bronze skin glistening with sweat and his brow furrowed in concentration as he fucked into you. Although you struggled to keep your eyes open, you didn’t want to look away.

You let out a gasp when he suddenly leaned down to bite near your collarbone, his instincts driving him to mark you as his in every way possible. You spread your legs wider to grant him better access and Jey yanked you closer, his possessive mouth already seeking out more of your skin to bite.

His sharp canines ghosted across your mating mark again and a new feeling of pleasure raced through you at the feeling. It took all of your willpower to keep from baring your neck to him. It was just biology, you tried to tell yourself. Just instincts. You could fight this, no matter how strong the desire to let him mate you was.

Still, you couldn’t deny the reaction your body had at the thought. You could feel a haze beginning to settle over your mind, the idea of finally belonging to him, of finally being mated, causing your leaking hole to spasm around Jey’s cock. Jey let out a low moan in response, his body still radiating heat as he loomed over you.

You could feel a new fog settling over your mind now, your own instincts urging you to go limp beneath your alpha’s rough hands and allow him to breed you. Jey’s pace was punishing, his hips never faltering even when he leaned up to grab at your thighs, pushing them forward to allow him better access to your swollen cunt. You felt helpless beneath him now, your brain beginning to shut down in favor of being good for him.

Jey seemed to sense the change, letting out a happy sound as he pushed you into a full mating press, his entire body weight pinning you to the floor. A wave of ecstasy washed over you, your mind now solely focused on him.

“Jey.” You pleaded, unable to tear your gaze away from his dark eyes.

They were the last thing you remembered before finally going under.

*****

Looking back, you could only remember bits and pieces of what happened after Jey triggered your heat.

You remembered Jey’s hands on your face, cradling you close to him as he continued to fuck into you. You remembered him wringing every ounce of pleasure from your body, giving you orgasm after orgasm until you were certain you couldn’t take anymore. You remembered Trinity entering the room, cooing soothing words that you couldn’t understand as she tried to get the two of you to drink some water. You remembered the sudden feeling of blankets and pillows around you, the air now smelling of your nest at home. You remembered Jey curling his body around yours, keeping you close to him as you both rested in between rounds.

When you finally emerged from your heat two days later, you were greeted to the sight of Jey’s sparkling brown eyes.

“Baby?” Jey’s voice was warm, his hands soft as he caressed your bruised skin. “You good?”

It took you some time to realize that you were still in the staff locker room, the two of you huddled together on the couch beneath a blanket that smelled like home. Jey had his arms around you, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple as you struggled to return to reality.

Your brain was foggy, but you were acutely aware that every muscle in your body ached. Jesus, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt this sore. You reached up your arm in an effort to stretch it and let out a low moan of pain for your trouble.

“It’s alright,” Jey soothed, quickly reaching out to massage the sore muscles of your arm. “It’s okay, baby. Just relax for me.”

You obeyed, leaning against his strong chest as he continued to massage you, his beard tickling your neck he pressed another kiss to your jaw.

“My sweet girl,” he praised, pulling you close so he could press his nose into your hair. “You did so good for me, sweetheart. Such a good girl. I love you so much.”

You hummed in contentment, your eyes closing as Jey cradled you in his arms. You didn’t care that your body ached or that your skin was bruised and raw or that your lips were dry and your stomach was cramping. None of it really mattered. All that mattered was Jey’s arms were around you, his lips impossibly soft as he peppered your face with kisses. And when he smiled, his gaze at you adoring and his eyes crinkled with laughter, you knew you were going to be okay.

_____

besties: @acute-crashout-jeyuso @mindairy @amandairene88 @askullasunflower @partypoison00 @brianochka @femdisa @zephyrazzz @scorpiochaos @gardencottage @minteagalaxea @annyanse @nbanenefrmdao @wishyouloveme @glittergirl7 @bloodline-fanacc @key05marie @mzv11 @neytiri-20 @ayeeeitsmiracle @buttercup0024 @punksyeet @pr0wlerpunk @lilucey @cassrox @cosmiccandydreamer @sarlaccussy @fearlesschimera @hadesorion @rollinssection @levissslutt

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ahundredtimesover · 19 hours ago

Text

Something About You (03) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: friends au, vacation au, slow burn, romcom-ish vibe; adulting; inspired by AYS; PE teacher!JK and researcher!OC; fluff, comfort, smut (?)

Chapter Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption, minor injury (18+)

Word count: 17.9k

Series Masterlist

Status: Ongoing

Series Summary: You and Jungkook have been friends for a decade. And while he’s the charming and dependable, often reserved boy-next-door, he’s also just been a friend - a constant in your life, a part of a whole, and someone who’s seen all the flawed and probably unattractive sides of you.

A resumption of your friend group’s out-of-town trips has caused you to spend more time with him. And somewhere in between the morning coffee in the forest, running around in the snow, and watching the sunset on a boat, he’s become something more. And you’re not quite sure how to deal with it.

🎶: Beautiful Soul by Jesse McCartney || Yes or No by Jungkook

A/N: My favorite Koo look! Hope you're enjoying this series so far!

[From: kook] Leaving in a bit. Be there in 20.”

You turn off your laptop camera and quickly give Jungkook a call, wanting him to hear your cutesy, pleading voice for this request.

“Hey, what’s up?” He asks on the other end.

“Hello to my amazing friend. I’ve run out of tea and I really need one,” you cry out. “Do you think you can get or make me a cup? Please?”

“Sure, there’s a cafe near my place,” he chuckles. “Anything specific?”

“Chamomile or jasmine,” you respond. “Thank you! I’ll see you in a bit!”

You end the call and quickly get back to your meeting, your fourth one of the day, and it’s only been seven hours since you clocked in at work. You’re thankful for work-from-home Fridays but somehow they’re even more tiring, at least recently, given the upcoming holidays and people taking their respective leaves.

Like many at your firm, it’s your last day before you take a few weeks off then return in early January. Everyone’s doing end-of-year meetings and pre-planning for next year. There are financial reports to submit and project updates to consolidate. You were able to get all the paperwork done overnight so you could focus on your meetings during the day and you just can’t wait for it to be over so you can completely switch off.

“I guess that wraps it up,” your manager says after you provide a progress summary of all your ongoing research projects. “You got everything on-track and we’ll be starting next year on a good note. Thank you, ___. You deserve this break.”

“We all do,” you smile. “Enjoy the break, everyone! I’ll see you next year.”

You end the meeting and drop your head on your desk. Today was a marathon and you feel like you’re still running on adrenaline so you take deep breaths to calm yourself down. You’ve got a couple of days of vacation with your friends and then several more with your family when you go to your hometown and that technically starts right now.

So you turn off your laptop, clear out your desk, and do a final check of your things before dressing up in time for Jungkook’s arrival in five minutes.

He’s already standing by the trunk of his car when you scurry down the driveway and drag your luggage to meet him. You apologize for making him wait but he waves you off to say that it’s okay. You load your things and quickly get into the passenger seat.

“Here’s your tea,” Jungkook says, handing you a hot cup that you excitedly receive.

You take a sip and hum in satisfaction at its warmth. The scent and the taste are already making you feel better, and you sink in your seat at the comfort it gives you. Releasing a drawn out hum, you feel your muscles slowly relax.

“Looked like you needed that, huh?” Jungkook says as he starts driving.

You’re both headed to the airport where you'll meet your other friends who are on their way there after work, too. Living close to Jungkook, he offered to pick you up so that there’s only one of your cars you’ll leave at the parking for the duration of your trip to Sapporo.

“Totally. I was up until 4AM getting all of my paper work done,” you sigh.

“And what time did you wake up?”

“7:30.”

“Yah, that’s not a healthy sleeping habit,” he reprimands you.

“Says the guy who used to do exactly that,” you point out.

“Those were college days. I’m an adult now, you know? I get at least seven hours of sleep because any less and I’d be a dysfunctional mess.”

“It’s so weird how we’re at that age where we require a lot of hours of sleep but then in 10 years’ time, our body will just decide it can survive with four.”

“We produce less melatonin as we age,” he informs you. “But you know what’s funny about my 4 - 10 AM sleeping pattern before? People thought I was up studying but I was really just playing video games for most of it.”

“Oh I’m not surprised,” you shake your head. “I already knew you're the one who influenced Jimin’s sleeping habits. He used to follow a strict curfew and then you messed it up.”

“Yeah and now he thanks me because he’s now used to it. He says it’s how he survives his job.”

“Working in advertising requires that, I guess,” you frown. “At least he gets to have a break. At least we all do! I am completely shutting off so please call me out if I talk about work.”

“Sure, that’ll be fun,” he chuckles. “Can I call you out on other things, too?”

You make a face at him and say he’ll do that anyway even if you tell him not to.

You yawn for the third time in the past minute and Jungkook turns to you.

“Sleep. It’s a long drive so might as well get some of your energy back,” he says. “I’ll wake you up when we’re there.”

“Okay,” you say as you yawn again. “If I snore… just suck it up.”

He playfully rolls his eyes then points to the lever that adjusts the seat so you can lie down more comfortably. He puts some mellow music on and you fall asleep instantly, curled against your arms and soft snores escaping you.

Jungkook can only laugh to himself as he sneaks glances at you during the ride. It was about a month ago when he told himself that the way to deal with this maybe harmless and fleeting crush he has for you is to spend less time together. That was only slightly possible because there was some lunch or dinner with your friends every weekend, but it wasn’t as if not seeing you meant he wasn’t thinking about you.

Of course he still was. He thought about you a lot and wondered how you were doing. For the first time, he was thankful for his stressful job and the busy days of making student reports for the end of the semester, which meant he couldn’t always meet you every time you asked if he was done with work or if he was in the area where you were. He was always tempted to just drop things to see you but he knew that would make things more complicated for him.

But then again, he hasn’t even fully grasped exactly what he feels yet. Is it admiration? A newfound fondness? Did he just need to rid himself of some past baggage that he didn’t even realize he was carrying for things to make sense to him?

Regardless, he knew that spending more time with you - for an extended period of time, and in close proximity - isn’t going to make things easier. But Taehyung just had to spring this trip on all of you and no one could refuse because he’s actually the other baby of the group that everyone has a soft spot for and he’s leaving for who knows how long again in a few months.

Jungkook’s not complaining at the least because he’d go anywhere with his friends. He just finds it a bit comical that this is exactly what he said he shouldn’t be doing but here he is now - on another long drive with you asleep next to him, with a two-plus hour flight ahead to a city he always wanted to go to, and a few days of winter coldness that might cause him to seek your warmth in one way or another. Or you might seek his for all he knows and that might actually be worse.

He just shakes his head and focuses on the road after glancing at you again. He’s not really the type to overthink things. He’s fared well in most aspects of his life by going with the flow and dealing with whatever comes his way.

Though his relationships are another story, he supposes those youthful years were characterised by a level of insecurity and lack of trust in himself that made him hold onto things that didn’t feel right. He thinks he’s a lot more mature now - he’ll have conviction in whatever he feels for you, whatever it is, and he’ll accept rejection if that’s where it’ll lead to.

He’ll see where things go but for now, what matters is that he, you, and all of your friends get to enjoy this trip as much as possible.

Jungkook finally makes it to the airport and checks in his car for a few days of parking. He wakes you up and you take a while to open your eyes. He pats your head when you do and reminds you that you’ll have more time to sleep on the plane.

You dazedly drag your luggage and you pout at Jungkook who giggles at your sleepy state.

“I’m so tired,” you pout at him as you both make your way to the check-in area where the rest of your friends are waiting.

“I can tell. Let’s just get through the gates and then you can sleep somewhere there, okay?”

You nod as if you’ll cry any moment, and part of him wants to just pull you close so you can lean on him while you sleep but that might be too unexpected so he just puts his hand on your shoulder to stop you from falling.

“Princess can’t stay awake?” Jimin’s voice cuts through the airport chatter.

“She barely got any sleep last night and she had meetings all day,” Jungkook informs your friends who have gathered where you are.

“Aww, poor thing,” Jimin hums as he hugs you, and you respond by hugging him tighter.

“Let’s get to the gates then,” Yoongi orders. “There are lots of places we can eat and rest at.”

You all line up and slowly get through the check-in line before you’re able to head to the gates. Gyu-rim finds a table big enough for 12 at a restaurant and while all of them order their meals, you stay seated, with your head on Jimin’s shoulder and on your way to dreamland once again.

“Let’s take turns,” Mo-eum tells him, as she finishes her rice bowl first then shifts your head to lean on hers after.

You briefly wake up to have a few spoonfuls of your bulgogi before offering the rest to Jungkook and then taking quick naps again. You’ve seriously never been this tired. But you feel like your body knew it could afford to just shut down because you’re on vacation. It just didn’t plan it well enough because you’re in the middle of the airport, just randomly dozing off.

You finally board the plane and find that you’re seated next to Jungkook who’s on the window seat, and Taehyung and Mo-eum are on the row in front of you, while an aisle separates you from Jimin. It’s a good enough arrangement, and Jungkook helps you load your carry-on in the overhead compartment before you take your seat and immediately rest your head on his shoulder.

It’s a natural thing for you to do, and you suppose your friends are used to you by now. You make yourself comfortable then look up to smile at Jungkook.

“I’m gonna fall asleep once we take-off,” you tell him.

“I’m sure you will,” he chuckles, as he looks through the emergency instructions.

“Have we sat next to each other on a flight before?” You ask.

“Uh, I think this one flight to Jeju,” Jungkook responds. “But that was some time ago. I might’ve been asleep then.”

“Hmm, that’s why,” you hum.

“What?”

“I didn’t realize how comfy you are.”

“It’s probably the clothes, ___,” he reasons, more to himself. “I need them to be fluffy and warm because it’s winter.”

You adjust yourself again before resettling your head on his side.

“Maybe.”

Jungkook doesn’t overthink it. You’ve leaned on his shoulder lots of times before. This isn’t out of the ordinary. But with you pointing out that you haven’t really sat next to each other on flights before reminds him again of how you’ve always just been part of the whole. And now he’s got this time and proximity with you and it’s comforting but also exciting.

Even if yes, he’s just playing games on his phone while you flick through the airplane magazine while waiting for take-off. Once you’re up in the air and the seatbelt light has turned off, you push back your seat and start dozing off.

Your head keeps slipping from the position it’s in, even as he tries to straighten it so you don’t hurt your neck in the process. Perhaps out of discomfort, you briefly wake up to unlatch the table then lay the pillow and your head on it. Even then, it constantly bounces from the slight turbulence so you sit back again and shift your body in search of the right position.

Jungkook sees you cross your arms against your chest and assumes you’re cold, but just as he’s about to cover you with his airline-provided blanket, Mo-eum peeks her head from between the seats.

“She needs to hug something when she’s asleep,” your best friend says.

“Oh, uh—”

You curl your body in the seat and snore softly, and Jungkook can sense your body’s need for a proper position. So he lightly taps you awake, grabs a spare hoodie from his bag on the floor, then places it on his lap. He gestures towards it and you take the offer, immediately pulling up the arm rest and laying half of your body on top of his.

You bend your legs and adjust yourself. You have your pillow on top of his jacket that’s on top of his lap, your blanket over you and then his blanket for you to hug. You release a low moan then your breathing steadies. Figuring out your position must’ve tired you, but with how fast you’ve fallen asleep, he figures you’ve found the right one.

Is he glad it’s on his lap? Not exactly, and only because it’s a kind of closeness he’s not used to with you, and he’s worried he’d look for it. But it doesn’t matter because you’re comfortable and he’d gladly help you get that much deserved rest in whatever way. Even if it’s at the cost of his stupid heart.

Mo-eum peeks again to check on you and giggles when she sees where you ended up. She turns around and kneels on her seat to take a photo of you slumped on Jungkook’s lap while the said man poses.

“Cute,” she smiles, before sitting back down and showing it to her seatmate.

It prompts Taehyung to turn around, too, laughing under his breath at how Jungkook is trying to figure out where to place his hands, now that you’ve hijacked his personal space.

But Jungkook does figure it out, as he holds onto your arm to keep you from falling in case there’s another turbulence. Thankfully there isn’t, and when it’s announced that the plane will now start its descent so everyone must sit upright, he wakes you up and tells you that you’ll be landing soon.

You were in deep sleep and having a good dream that you don’t remember and the next thing you know, someone’s shaking your arm and telling you to wake up. Feeling like you’re on a bed, you shift your body and stretch your arms. But then you hear a groan and you look up to see Jungkook glaring at you.

“Did I hit your face?” You gasp, suddenly sitting up then turning his chin to check any damage. “I’m sorry! Are you okay?”

“You hit my jaw,” he groans. “But yeah, I’m fine.”

“Oops,” you sweetly smile.

“Hey, you don’t apologize like that to me or Jimin when you hit our faces,” Taehyung remarks, turning his head and cocking his eyebrow.

“That’s because Kook has a precious nose that must always be protected,” you reply with a straight face. “You don’t.”

“Yah!” Jungkook exclaims, knowing it’s a running joke in your group.

He pinches you in retaliation but you giggle at him and pinch his cheeks in response.

“I’m kidding. Thanks, Kook. I’ve regained my energy and now I feel ready to take on the day,” you confidently say.

“___, it’s 9:30 PM,” Jungkook deadpans.

“I’m really hungry, too,” you add, disregarding his statement.

“So now we have to deal with an energetic and hungry you? At this hour?” Jungkook groans.

“Order food with me when we get to the hotel?” You ask, not minding his complaints.

“And if it’s closed?”

“The convenience store, then!”

“Now I’m the one who’s tired.”

“No, you’re not! You can’t be!” You pout at him with your puppy eyes.

“Fine, whatever,” he gives in as he always does.

You’re talking about the dream you don’t remember when the sight of the snow-capped streets catches Jungkook’s attention. You see his doe-eyes go wide and he looks so innocent, but you understand the amusement - it looks stunning outside and you can’t wait to bury yourself in the pillowy ice and breathe in the chilly air.

Both of you just look out while waiting to land and disembark. You manage to get all your luggage quickly then head to three separate rented cars to drive to your lodging for tonight.

The hotel restaurant isn’t taking orders anymore so you announce to the group that you and Jungkook are going to the convenience store across the street. Jimin, Namjoon, and Suhyeon join you, and you’re skipping out the lobby to get your snacks in no time.

Jungkook tells you to be careful because the roads are slippery but you show-off your sliding skills that make you feel like you’re ice skating. He copies you and shows off, too, speeding his leg movements as he walks down an icier path.

But then he slips and falls to the ground, and you can’t help the way you laugh at his mishap. You can hear your other three friends laughing as they walk towards you, and Jungkook remains lying on the ground, laughing, too.

“You’re so clumsy,” you mock him, as it’s one of the things he says to you whenever you fall or hit something.

“I was just trying to show you what not to do,” he makes a face before taking the hand you’ve reached out for him to take. “So don’t go skating and shit, okay? You might hurt yourself.”

“I won’t. I’m not a show-off nor a klutz,” you say and stick your tongue out.

He frowns at you then pulls you by your cheek to enter the store.

You, Jimin, and Jungkook stay together while you go around and drop various things in your basket that you think Taehyung and Mo-eum would like, too. You all get some chips, matcha cookies, chocolates, mini-cakes, instant ramen, beer... and about a dozen tuna mayo triangle kimbap because Jungkook is obsessed with them. You meet Namjoon and Suhyeon at the counter where they’ve filled their basket with a bunch of other things as well then head back to the hotel.

As is often the arrangement, the five of you share a suite while your seven other friends share one as well, and you make your way to the living room where all your purchases have been dumped on the table.

Being that you barely had dinner and Jungkook’s stomach is a bottomless pit, both of you make ramen and get one rice ball each while the rest munch on snacks and dessert. Spread across the couch and the floor, you all hold up your beer cans and make a toast to this trip.

Later that night, you watch the snow fall from the window as you sip the chamomile tea that Jungkook bought for you at the store. The city is beautiful at this hour and it feels cozy and romantic and exciting yet peaceful all at once. It’s a kind of feeling you’ve always wanted to experience, and now you know how a place can make you feel that way.

Like all the times your mind has travelled somewhere, you suddenly wonder if it’s possible with a person. And if maybe, somewhere in this town, they’re right by their window, thinking the same thing, too.

You wake up to the sound of your alarm the next morning. For the brief moment right before you open your eyes, you feel that sense of relief over what turned out to be a really good sleep.

Despite being knocked out the whole flight then eating and drinking late at night, you managed to get enough rest. You’ve truly switched off now. All you can think about are the sights you’ll see and food you’ll eat and all the time you’ll spend just walking through the snowy streets.

The last time you all went to Japan, it was an action-packed trip. You went to amusement parks and went partying at night. This time, everyone decided on taking things slow. Sapporo’s perfect for that, and you suppose it’s what you all need.

Sitting up from the bed, you see that you’ve kicked your blanket off the edge while Mo-eum is cocooned under the sheets. You like the cold and you wish you had the aircon at a lower temperature, but your best friend freezes easily so you let the room stay warm.

You tap her on the foot as an attempt to wake her up before heading out to the living area. The boys are in the other room and they seem to still be asleep. Wanting to see how the sun shines on the street outside, you pull open the curtains to let the light in and the way it does makes things look more enchanting.

But then a grunting sound disrupts your moment, prompting you to turn around.

It takes five seconds for you to notice Jungkook, who had camouflaged on the black couch with his black shirt and sweatpants and his arms behind his head. He seems to have slept there, as evidenced by the rearranged pillows and his half-lidded eyes gazing at you. The sun probably woke him up, so you apologize and try to close the curtains but he tells you it’s okay.

“Did you sleep here?” You ask, as you sit on the other end of where he is.

He groggily nods his yes.

“It was too hot in the room. Tae and Jimin had the aircon on fan mode.”

“Oh, that sucks,” you say. “Mo-eum had the temp high, too, and I ended up kicking my blanket on the floor. I like it cold.”

“Me, too,” Jungkook hums. “Good thing the couch is comfy.”

“You and Mo-eum can just switch places then,” you suggest. “The three warmies can stay in one room and you and I can enjoy a cold night.”

If Jungkook wasn’t awake five seconds ago, now he is. It’s not like he’s never shared a room with you before but with his little feelings recently, it might as well be the first time. He knows he can stay up with you just talking or saying nothing at all. You could also pass out and snore like crazy but then again, he wouldn’t mind that either. It’ll just be something new he’d tease you about, as if your snoring video that he shows to your friends isn’t enough.

“Sounds good,” he manages to say.

Yawning as he stretches, he asks you what the itinerary is for the day.

“Do you not read the group chat?” You laugh at him. “The schedule is pinned on there.”

“Not really.”

“How do you ever know what’s going on, then?”

“I wait for Jimin or Tae to tell me when it’s about something important because they know I don’t check messages,” he shrugs.

“You’re weird,” you playfully roll your eyes. “But anyway. We’re gonna have lunch, go to a beer museum, go to a mountain, check the–”

“You’re climbing?” He exclaims.

“We go by cable car, duh! Do you expect me to climb? In this weather?”

“You wouldn’t do it either way.”

“Excuse me, I climbed that mountain in Chungbuk,” you remind him.

“You mean I dragged you,” he chuckles. “And come on, ___. That wasn’t a mountain mountain. It was a short hike because we were already on the mountain. I just wanted to know if I had to drag your ass again or something.”

You make faces while he talks, prompting him to hit you with the small pillow.

“Yah!” You whine, hitting him back.

Jungkook turns into a childish man when he’s challenged or provoked. He tends to be nonchalant about most things but you also know that he likes to play around and tease. He also likes to show off his athleticism and agility because now, as you try to hit him back again, he’s effectively dodging you while landing his pillow shots on your face.

“Kook, I’m gonna get your annoying ass,” you groan, grabbing the bigger pillow and then hitting him a little harder, knowing it’s not gonna affect him anyway.

This dude is built like a brick. It just doesn’t seem like it because he’s always in loose clothes, but you know enough that not much hurts him. But you’re so into the pillow fight that he ends up lying down on the couch while you sit on top of him, your legs wrapped around his waist, and he’s there chuckling and blocking your hits.

You take a rest, essentially giving him an opening. But instead of attacking, he turns to you and places his hands behind his head.

“Okay fine, I’ll let you make one last hit then we call it quits,” he says, challenging you.

You consider it, and as you act like you’re going to smack his face, you instead drop the pillow and make a tiny pinch on the sliver of his stomach that’s been exposed from all his movements. He yelps in pain and you manage to get off him in time, or else he would’ve easily wrestled you or turned you over.

He chases after you to the kitchen though, and you’re definitely not fast enough for the Jeon Jungkook. Before you know it, you’re getting pulled by your shirt and being tickled in your torso that you easily give up, facing him in submission then catching your breath.

“You’re such a brat,” he frowns. “That hurt.”

He slightly raises his shirt and discovers the red mark on his stomach that you caused.

You gasp in surprise; you didn’t realize you hurt him that bad. You pout then hug him - a reflex almost because this is how you apologize to your friends when you get a little too intense - and apologize.

“Nah, a hug won’t cut it,” he says, not returning the act.

You look up at him with sorry eyes.

“Coffee?”

“Nope.”

“A 6-pack in the beer museum later?” You sweetly smile, knowing that’s his weakness.

He gives in. “Deal.”

“Wow, that was easy,” you chuckle as you let go of him.

“You leave a mark, you get me beer. It’s that simple,” he shrugs.

“I bet it didn’t even really hurt,” you cock an eyebrow.

“___, it’s literally red. Look. It might even have a bit of your nail stuck in there.”

He pulls up his shirt again to show you the crescent on his abdomen and though you feel sorry, you also can’t help but tease.

“Show-off,” you stick your tongue out.

“Hey, I worked hard on that.”

“I’m sure, and they look great,” you flash a smile.

“Kook, why are you giving ___ a private show this early in the morning?” Jimin says as he enters the kitchen.

Jungkook tries not to look scandalized at the comment even if he knows it’s just his best friend’s way of teasing.

“She pinched me.”

“The tiny, painful kind?” Jimin asks.

“Yes. And I was just showing her the damage.”

Jimin turns to you with a disapproving look. “You’re a brat.”

“I said I was sorry,” you pout at Jungkook again.

You look adorable and he can’t really be angry.

“She’ll make it up to me with beer at least.”

“That’s not too bad,” Jimin laughs. “Just be her punching bag and you’ll end up with lots of free things.”

Jungkook chuckles in agreement and proceeds to boil water for coffee. It’s 10:30 AM and you’re set to meet the rest of your friends in an hour for lunch, so you munch on another triangle kimbap and some snacks then get dressed.

As you’re going down the stairs to the lobby, you slow down to walk with Jungkook and you turn to him.

“You’re not mad, right? I’m sorry again,” you say softly.

There’s an innocence in your eyes as you utter the words and Jungkook has to stop himself from engulfing you in a hug.

It’s fondness, he convinces himself. It’s this tenderness that always cuts through at the end that gets him. You can be playful and rowdy and unforgiving sometimes but you’re affectionate and gentle and it catches him off guard. He doesn’t know why it’s never affected him like this before because he knows you’ve been like this to him before.

“I’m not,” he says, nudging your shoulder in assurance. “It’s stopped hurting and your nail marks will go away. You’re all good.”

“Good. We don’t want blemishes on those pretty abs,” you wink.

He laughs in your wake. He hopes the fondness he feels for you stays. He also hopes that’s all there really is.

The ramen place you find for lunch is a tiny restaurant that manages to fit all of you. You and Taehyung moan in satisfaction at the richness of the broth, content with your weak people’s palette that can only handle the lowest level of spiciness, whereas Jimin next to you winces because he definitely didn’t expect his level 7 to be that hot. But still, he says it’s one of the most delicious things he’s ever eaten and you’d have to agree.

The restaurant is buzzing in chatter and laughter because of all of you, especially when Gyu-rim calls out Jungkook’s bottomless pit of a stomach once again.

He ordered chashu don with his ramen but is on his second serving of the rice bowl after Suhyeon offered the one she couldn’t finish.

“You know how normal people stop eating after they’re full?” He says. “I end up eating five more portions.”

“Oh, we know,” most of you answer in unison.

“How good is it anyway?” You ask.

“Dude, it’s so good,” he moans, furrowing his brows; he tends to look angry when the food is delicious.

You open your mouth to signal that you want to try it and Jungkook prepares a spoonful for you. He’s about to hand it over but then you stand and lean over the table, so he feeds you and tips the spoon to make sure you get everything in your mouth.

It’s something he’s done with you lots of times before but this feels different. There’s that fuzzy feeling of doing this intimate act for you, even as a friend.

Because it’s just that, he reminds himself - an act of affection towards a person dear to him.

You hum with a full mouth with how good it is and urge Mo-eum to try as well, so Jungkook feeds her, too - something completely normal that doesn't elicit any unusual warm feeling. But he can’t keep his eyes off you still chewing your food while asking for another spoonful with the ramen broth this time after he said it was even better together.

You lean over again and Yoongi tells you to just order your own.

“We’re not in a rush. We can stay here for as long as you all want,” Hoseok - the one who keeps you all on track with schedules during your trips - says.

You smile in response then scurry to the ticket machine to order more. You’re served two bowls not long after, and you announce that you got another one so each person can try it at least once, starting with Jimin who gets two spoonfuls.

You prepare one yourself and lean over to Jungkook to feed him this time. He’s caught off guard but he opens his mouth in time before you complain that he’s taking too long. Returning to your seat, you get another bite for yourself then another.

“Yah, I gave you two spoonfuls,” Jungkook reminds you.

“Get from the other bowl,” you frown at him. “That’s why I got two!”

He laughs, only wanting to rile you up, but he does finish what your friends couldn’t, and there he goes again with his unnecessary fifth portion.

Once you’ve finished, you head to a local park that’s covered in snow. Jimin immediately runs and dives on one of the mounds he sees and you follow, loving the pillowy ice almost as much as he does. Soon enough, Mo-eum, Jungkook, and Taehyung are next to you, lying down and making snow angels, all the while giggling like little kids.

Your seven older friends all stand around and watch with the softest smiles on their faces.

“This is why we came here, right?” Hoseok hums. “To watch them be like this?”

“It’s like I’m watching our grown up children,” Yoongi says.

“We’re two years apart,” Gyu-rim points out. “They’re not that young.”

“I don’t know. I kinda feel like they are,” Yoongi replies.

“You’re just old,” she counters, quietly laughing when the other man chuckles to himself.

It’s a struggle getting off the ground when it’s so soft and cold. But your jacket is also added weight and you’re scolding yourself for not being agile like your friends who can easily get up and then run further into the park.

“Kook, help me,” you plead with your legs bent to your sides and your one arm raised. “I can’t carry myself.”

Jungkook sighs but pulls you anyway. You pant as you try to walk towards the frozen pond and he teases by saying that you probably need a piggyback ride or something.

“Will you give me one?” You smile sweetly.

“Nope,” he smiles back, and you pout at him in return.

He easily could, but Jungkook - normally - likes to tease you. He gives in most times, but he’s been trying to recall how he was prior to these possible feelings surfacing and he remembers that there were times when he turned you down or argued with you first before granting your request.

He’s trying to balance it out for that sense of normalcy he wants to maintain. He can’t have anyone, especially you, suspecting him of treating you differently, even if deep down, he wants to give you that piggyback ride or hold your hand while dragging you all the way to the center of the park.

But he goes with the latter. Similar to what he did during your hike months ago, he pulls you by the wrist until you reach the pond.

He watches you look around in awe. He does the same while stealing glances and he hopes no one notices. He’s not really ready to explain himself to anyone about something he’s still trying to make sense of.

The hour flies by. You spend it just walking around and having mini snowball fights where you all ban Jungkook because he was making snow boulders and burying Jimin in them. You buy coffee from a park stall and finish it by the time you’re back in your cars.

You head to a Beer Museum after. The building itself is stunning and you spend time just admiring it. Inside, you explore Sapporo and Hokkaido’s history and take time reading and watching the information presented. Jungkook, of course, heads straight away to the tasting section and begins eyeing which drinks he wants to sample.

He loves beer, which is ironic for a PE teacher who teaches his students about healthy living but like he says, too much of something is what makes it unhealthy. Plus, there are doctors who have worse vices and so he gets a pass.

And maybe he’s right. Jungkook has a high tolerance for many things and he knows when to stop but you also know he truly enjoys the taste, and not just the social aspect of drinking it.

You’re still exploring, as you’re more interested in learning more than drinking, but most of your friends have already gone ahead, with only Suhyeon and Hoseok walking alongside you.

“Don’t forget that you promised me a six-pack,” Jungkook reminds you once you get to him.

“Why, what did you do?” Gyu-rim asks you, knowing that’s the only reason you’d agree to buy Jungkook something.

“She pinched me on the stomach this morning and it left a mark,” Jungkook narrates. “It hurt like hell.”

“Is that why you were showing your abs to ___ in the kitchen?” Taehyung asks. “I was half asleep but I saw you. I thought you were being kinky or something.”

“I said the same thing!” Jimin exclaims, causing your friends to laugh.

“Yah! I had to show her proof because she didn’t wanna believe me!” Jungkook defends.

“Because you don’t even get hurt!” You answer back.

“Wow, that’s deep,” Jimin hums. “And totally off-mark. Kook is a sensitive one.”

“Yeah, but his body isn’t,” you pout, knowing exactly what your best friend means.

Jungkook laughs it off then returns to his beer tasting, claiming that he wants three cans of two different exclusive flavors. You agree and taste them at his insistence and decide to buy a variety of alcohol as well.

It’s close to sunset when you finish, then you all head to Mt. Moiwa for some scenery. It’s a chilly and entertaining ride to the top, with Hoseok and Jimin going from amused to terrified in seconds, and you’re glad you decided to join their cable car instead of Jungkook and Mo-eum who’d probably be dancing around because they’re not really scared of anything.

As you expected, the view is pretty special. Everything is blanketed in snow and the city lights add that urban charm. You stay there until the sun has completely set before going to your final stop of the night - the Christmas Market. It’s something you’ve always wanted to experience, so all of you walk through the streets and look at every stall for something to buy or taste.

Jimin and Yoongi try some mulled wine and Namjoon buys some cute figurines. Seokjin and Hayoung buy something to commemorate their last overseas trip before getting married, and you and Suhyeon munch on a pretzel.

And then there’s Jungkook - a gourmet sausage on one hand and a donut on the other.

“Kook, we still have dinner. You know that, right?” Hoseok laughs from next to him, clearly amused at how his younger friend can still have an appetite.

“Of course he does, that’s why he’s eating all this now so he has space for more later on,” Gyu-rim states. “Go on, Kook. Eat to your heart’s content.”

You stand next to Jungkook as you wait for Suhyeon who said she’ll order hot chocolate for you.

“Is it good?” You ask.

“Yup,” he mumbles. “Try some!”

Like always, you open your mouth and he feeds you the donut, prompting you to complain that sweets always go last. He just laughs at you and waits for you to finish chewing before letting you bite off his sausage.

“That’s good,” you hum, uncaring about the juice that drips on the side of your mouth.

“Yah,” Jungkook groans. He takes his napkin and wipes it off your face. “Are you a child?”

“You literally eat with sauce all over your face,” you call him out.

“And you’ve never wiped them off. Gee, thanks,” he counters.

“You’re an adult.”

“And so are you,” he chuckles while he continues to wipe you clean.

You stand there, clad in a loose jacket and a beanie that makes you look adorable, and he can’t help but smile once again. You’re such a handful sometimes but he likes this. He likes giving in to your requests and watching you enjoy it and maybe cleaning up your mess, too. He likes seeing you appreciate the things that he does. He likes knowing you’re curious about what he’s up to and then sharing it with him.

He doesn’t recall ever caring this much but he’s down that slope of finding everything you do so captivating that he might as well smile every time you breathe.

Suddenly he feels silly, and he makes a face at you to mask whatever he’s feeling.

You leave him once Suhyeon calls and Jungkook’s left there to shake his head and internally scold himself to get it together.

You return to the hotel, drop your things in your rooms, then head to the restaurant for dinner. It’s a spread of premium meat, hotpot that tastes like cabbage water, and some of the freshest seafood you’ve ever had.

You jump in your seat in delight and Jungkook does the same. After all the bickering, you know that both of you love food so much even if he enjoys it because he knows how it’s supposed to taste, whereas for you, most things are just delicious. It’s just funny that you’re only realizing now that both of you react to things pretty much the same way.

You’re back in the suite by 10 PM, and the five of you take turns in the bathroom while the boys play a card game with push-ups as punishment for the loser while you and Mo-eum act as both penalty enforcer and cheerleader.

The tiredness from the day slowly creeps in so you all retire to your rooms, upholding this morning’s agreement about who’s sleeping where.

Jungkook lies down on Mo-eum’s bed and half wishes that he’ll fall asleep soon so that he doesn’t have to spend more of this time alone with you. The last time that happened, his heart was doing weird things and now that might just happen again.

He starts to slowly doze off when your voice wakes him up.

“Do you want to put on a face mask?”

“Uhm, okay,” he stupidly gives in easily.

You grab two packs and a mirror from your pouch then try to put the mask on properly. You turn to Jungkook who now kneels next to you, as if asking him to fix it. He shifts it a little before putting one on himself. He turns to you as well and you flatten the edges, making sure you spread the serum from his jaw down to his neck, completely unaware of how you’re affecting him.

For some reason, you decide to sit in the space between the beds so Jungkook follows suit. There’s not much distance between the both of you but this isn’t the first time. He supposes he’ll just keep doing what he’s been trying to do - try to act normal while also figuring out exactly what he feels without making it obvious that something has changed.

“Today was good,” you hum. “I liked playing in the snow and walking around. And now it’s 12 AM but we’re not passed out. What a change from years ago.”

“Such a change,” he laughs, reminiscing about your post-university trips where you were finally earning money and spending it on shopping and partying. “Hong Kong was the worst.”

You and Jimin were drunk and entered the wrong hotel, and Jungkook was the one who looked for you and dragged your asses out of there before you fought the hotel staff for not letting you into your room.

You remember that night and smile behind your mask. “Oops.”

“So yeah, this trip is good,” he chuckles. “We just get to relax and do whatever we want and actually remember everything and you know, not end up fighting strangers and stuff.”

You laugh in response.

“I liked the park, too. And my free beer. Thanks again, ___.”

You’re reminded of your comment from earlier about him not getting hurt. It’s not that deep but given the conversations you’ve been having with him and the things you know that the others don’t, it may not have been the best thing to say.

“What I said when we were at the museum…” you start. “I know it might have a double meaning but you know what I meant.”

It takes a while for him to figure out what you’re referring to but when he does, he just shakes his head.

“I know what you meant and it’s totally fine. I didn’t take it the wrong way.”

“But still, I’m sorry,” you mutter.

“It’s okay. Why are you always apologizing though?”

“Because I… don’t wanna do or say anything that’ll hurt you,” you admit. “I mean duh, I don’t want to do that to any of my friends but with you, it’s different.”

Jungkook’s thankful that of all the times he agreed to put on a mask, it was tonight, because at least you can’t see the way his face falls at your statement.

Different? What does that mean? Surely it can’t mean the same different he feels towards you because you haven’t acted out of the ordinary with him at all.

But you’re unpredictable sometimes and he doesn’t really know what to expect.

“What do you mean?” He manages to ask.

“Like… it’s simple and unproblematic. We bicker, we tease, we comfort each other… You’re there when I need you; I’m there when you need me, but we don’t need each other all the time. You get what I mean? We’re close but not–”

“Too close?” He finishes.

“Yeah, and it’s a good thing,” you clarify. “It’s not like with Jimin where we get on each other’s nerves all the time but we worry about the other just as much. But that’s always how we’ve been. And with Tae… I miss him so much when he’s away but I can’t tell him that because I don’t want him to worry. And he worries a lot and that affects him.”

“Tae does worry a lot about you. At one point I thought there was…”

“Something more?” You chuckle, and Jungkook nods in response.

It’s something he asked his friend years ago but Taehyung insisted there wasn’t anything.

“I pushed myself so hard in university. And when I worked there after graduation, I lost myself for a bit and Tae was just always there. I guess I became dependent on him as a friend to an extent,” you explain. “So a bit of that still lingers. I want to tell him things but not every little thing so he doesn’t worry. And Jimin’s like family and families fight sometimes. All of that said, you and I have always been… normal, for lack of a better term.”

Jungkook hums, as he tries to find the right words to say. But he gets it. It’s not like he was ever jealous about your closeness with Taehyung or Jimin; it was just a fact he accepted because it had always been like that. A big part of it was definitely because he had Joo-yun early on, and that kept him from developing a closer bond with you unlike his friends.

And while he regretted the part where he could’ve gotten closer to you much earlier, he supposes maybe it wasn’t that bad. Like you said, what both of you share is simple and unproblematic. There are no expectations, no fights, no secrets.

Well, maybe now there is, and Jungkook is a little guilty for feeling things while you continue believing that everything between both of you is simple. He reminds himself there are no expectations on his end and that as far as he knows, he’s not fully acting on whatever he feels. He’s just… going with the flow.

He recalls that conversation at your apartment about both of you wishing you’d been better friends to each other back then. For him, it was about knowing your struggles and being there for you. Perhaps it was that distance that led to this kind of friendship you have now. He stops himself short of thinking that while this is normal, so is getting used to each other and developing feelings. You’re not a believer of friends turning into lovers so maybe your definition of normal is also different.

He wills his thoughts to stop forming right now, not when you’re in the middle of something pretty serious. He wants to assure you that he’ll keep that unspoken promise you made about being better friends to each other. On one hand, that could mean not crossing any line and keeping things simple, like you said. On the other hand, it might also mean just being honest and making you feel comfortable in being the same.

“I don’t want to do or say anything that’ll hurt you, too,” he finally says. “Tell me if I do, yeah?”

“I will,” you nod, and he can sense a smile behind the mask. “Can I be honest though? It’s hard to continue being serious when you look like that.”

He nudges your knee. “You’re the one who wanted to put this on!”

“I know, but then I got carried away,” you laugh, pulling the sheet mask off your face now and throwing it in the trash. “We’ve been having more deep conversations lately, Kook. It’s like we turned 28 and then poof, we became mature.”

“It doesn’t work that way but sure, ___,” he chuckles, clearing his face now, too. “I think experience does that. We realize what we want for ourselves and others, what we’re willing to tolerate, and what we want to focus our energy on. And we’re barely 30. We’re not even close to our peak.”

“So I’m gonna be even more mature?” You gasp. “Are you gonna be ready for that?”

“Okay, much as I’d like to tease you, you honestly don’t give yourself enough credit. You’re wise and mature and deep and shit, and not just because you’re an intellectual,” he clarifies. “You’re a smart person who also feels things, and I think maturity stems from that.”

“Hmm, I suppose,” you say, yawning as you crawl into bed. “But you’re a lot more mature than I am.”

“I’ll take that,” Jungkook smiles.

He lies in bed and turns off the night light. There’s a beat of silence before your sleepy voice echoes in the room.

“Kook?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you for always making me feel better about myself. It means a lot.”

Your deep breathing follows and he supposes you’ve already fallen asleep. He wishes he’d said something right away but he couldn’t find the words, like always.

He holds onto the fact that that was your last thought before you knocked out and he was at least awake to hear it. He’s sure you know he heard you and that should be enough.

You wake up much better the next day, given that the room temperature was what you wanted. You were curled under the covers with your feet warm from your socks, and there’s just something refreshing about feeling cold in the morning.

It’s a much earlier call time today, as you’ll be taking a train to a nearby town. You all get ready, and you’re doing your makeup in the living room while you glance at Jungkook doing his morning skincare routine.

You remember a time when Hayoung used to scold him for not wearing sunscreen despite spending all day outdoors. Eventually he developed that habit, including putting on toner and moisturizer. He has a headband on and it causes you to giggle.

Even without trying, Jungkook looks adorable sometimes. His oversized tan hoodie swallows his body. The way his hair falls over his forehead and his large, bright eyes make him look like a boba ball. There’s something so endearing about him as he alternates between two pairs of sunglasses because he can’t figure out which to wear.

“Second one,” you call out. “It settles cutely on your nose.”

“I can’t tell if that’s an insult or…”

“I’m disappointed you’d even think I would ever insult your nose!” You gasp.

Walking towards him, you adjust the black jacket over his hoodie and fix his bangs.

“You’re so dramatic,” he chuckles, feeling his throat immediately dry up with you being so near him.

It’s another one of those normal things you do often that suddenly means more to him now. You’ve also always looked nice barefaced but when you’re made up and this close to him? He wonders if you’ve always been this pretty.

“I mean it. This nose has super powers,” you say, pinching them out of reflex.

“And what does it do?”

“It keeps me from getting angry when I’m hungry. Too cute.”

“You’re so annoying,” he groans, as you laugh and yell out for your other friends to finish up.

They eventually do and you decide to separate from the older ones at least for today’s coffee run. You find a nice cafe and order some drinks and fluffy pancakes that’s perfect for this weather, and then you meet the rest in the train station for this morning’s little excursion.

The coastal train ride to Otaru, especially during winter, is apparently a must-do. And you agree, as you lean your head on Taehyung’s shoulder while the ocean comes into view. It’s so scenic, as the waves crash on the shore, just like that famous painting, and there’s that enchanting feeling once more in seeing the snow-covered town.

The 45-minute trip is spent looking at the views while talking to Mo-eum who sits in front of you, and occasionally taking photos of Jungkook and Jimin right behind you. You savor the simplicity of the experience and the fact that over a decade in, you still get to enjoy this with your friends. To remain this close and to have them so constant is a blessing, and something you don’t ever want to take for granted.

You arrive in the port city and immediately fall in love with it. From the architecture to the historical mansions and quaint streets, it gives such a unique and warm vibe despite the icy winds and snowfall.

You all decide to get hot drinks while you make your way to the frozen canal. There’s so much to see and just like yesterday, you take your time in taking in your surroundings, with the occasional snowball fight care of Jungkook at the expense of poor Jimin. It’s one of the few entertainment sources of the morning. There’s also making a Yoongi snowman and trying your butts at snow sledding using your puffer coats. The film cameras that Jungkook and Hoseok bring capture it all.

The group separates into two when you find a Music Box Museum that you want to explore while Jungkook and Yoongi choose a brewery to taste their season-exclusive drinks. Jimin and Gyu-rim join them so the rest of you head to the stunning building and look through thousands of music boxes and Christmas decorations. You reconvene after two hours and aren’t surprised when the other group brings back a few bottles of liquor that they said they wanted to try tonight.

You choose one of the dozen seafood restaurants on a popular street for lunch and you really can’t go wrong. This, for certain, is the freshest seafood you’ve ever had, and you spend the majority of your time eating just humming in satisfaction at everything you put in your mouth. And laughing, because while you admit to being dramatic sometimes, your friends overtake you in the eating department.

Because there’s Hoseok clapping after every new dish, there’s Jimin bowing his head down while moaning after every bite, there’s Gyu-rim cursing every five minutes, and then there’s Jungkook jumping in his seat and making the most bizarre hand gestures to express how delicious the food is.

It was definitely an experience, and you’re glad that Taehyung insisted on doing this.

You all walk back to the station to look at the other structures and to digest everything you ate. In less than an hour, you’re back in Sapporo and in your hotel room, needing the short break before the long drive to your next destination.

It’s hilarious Japanese reality TV shows and more convenience store snacks for an hour and a half in the living room before you leave late in the afternoon to head to another town.

You decide to sit in the backseat with Taehyung and Mo-eum this time. If it were with any of the other two guys, there’ll definitely be a lot of smacking and pinching and you can’t afford to be violent during the drive. It’s peaceful enough, as you spend it just talking about random things and before you know it, you arrive at a restaurant for your yakiniku fix for dinner.

The sun has set and you spend most of the ride with the windows down. The cold doesn’t seem to bother anyone and it’s just quiet - perhaps sentimental, too - until you reach your rented home for the next three days.

The place is stunning and you all thank Taehyung and Seokjin’s parents for covering your lodging because they said it’s been a while since you’ve been complete and you deserve the luxury this place brings. It’s something they often did and you suppose it’s just a rich family thing to do and you’re not one to complain.

All four bedrooms are on the first floor and like always, the five of you younger ones take the biggest of them, which already has the mattress on the floor anyways that Taehyung calls dibs on. You climb up the stairs to the living and dining rooms and find a huge open space that’s perfect for all of you. It opens to an outdoor area that houses the hot tub and sauna.

You’re glad it’s a detached house. That way, you can laugh and stay up late as much as you want and it won’t bother anyone. You can’t wait to spend your nights here.

It’s just past 8 in the evening and Jimin suggests going for the hot tub and taking turns because not everyone’s gonna fit.

“Well, not everyone’s gonna dip,” Yoongi shrugs, as if you all don’t know he’s one of those people.

But he’s right. Seokjin, Hayoung, and Hoseok join him in being spectators as they sit on the table outside while the rest of you take a spot around the tub and take turns on entering it.

You feel comfortable in your olive green bathing suit. Despite being out in the open, the heat from the water is enough to balance things out. There’s a spread of alcohol and other snacks that you pick from and like you expected, it’s a lot of laughter and reminiscing and discussing plans of future trips.

You look at each of your friends, the people who have been with you for over a decade, and you think about all the years in between. You’ve all definitely matured. It’s not just in the wrinkles or the responsible alcohol consumption or the complaints about sore legs after today’s walking spree.

It’s in the comfort of each other, the fulfilled promises of making time to be together despite the busy schedules and the distance. It’s in indulging what one person wants because doing anything as a group is the priority. It’s in the relief in your eyes knowing that at a time when people tend to lose sight of the important things, you’ve all made it a point not to lose each other.

That brings you to another thought, something you voice out.

“We are such a good looking group of friends,” you state, almost out of nowhere.

But really, from the camping trip that had you all looking a bit raggedy to this trip where you’ve been bunched up in thick clothes or with barely anything on, like right now, it’s something that just entered your mind.

“I’m surprised no one else decided to date each other apart from Seokjin and Hayoung,” you continue.

It’s not an uncommon topic amongst you. In fact, it’s one of those things you like teasing each other about, given all the history.

“Yoongi and Gyu-rim will. In 10 years,” Jimin states, and the people in question just shake their heads in response because this isn’t the first time and they’re unfortunately used to this.

“Mo-eum and I have a pact that if we’re still single at 55, we’ll marry each other,” you announce.

“___, I was drunk when I agreed,” your best friend laughs.

“No taking it back. We pinky promised,” you glare at her.

“Yah! Both of you will surely find someone before then,” Taehyung exclaims.

“Well, it could’ve been you,” Mo-eum tells him.

A round of “oohs” echoes in the room, prompting her to smile sweetly and Taehyung to chuckle and say that’s probably true.

It’s that kind of history you all like unearthing and resurfacing every once in a while. Come to think of it, it was over five years ago during your trip to Tokyo when your best friend revealed that she actually liked Taehyung during your junior year of college but she never had the guts to say anything, only for him to start liking her right after she got over it.

The confession shook everyone because no one knew, even you. And knowing how your best friend is, it would’ve been something she was really shy or nervous about if she never told anyone.

“Hoseok, care to top that?” Jimin teases now as he smirks at Suhyeon, who understandably splashes him with water.

“No, I don’t,” Hoseok laughs. “Brat.”

“Well, that ship could’ve sailed if someone wasn’t such a coward about it,” Seokjin eyes him.

Hoseok’s “what-if” with Suhyeon happened in real time, where everyone knew they had feelings for each other except for both of them. Despite all of you urging them to just make a move, one made a small step but the other was too scared to risk things and it didn’t fall through.

Both of them now have partners outside of your friend group though, and they’re even better friends this time, something that Suhyeon points out.

“When you think about it, it’s really just about timing,” Namjoon reflects. “Whether it’s liking someone at a certain point or believing you’re ready enough to go for it, it’s about the other person being on the same boat - liking you at the same time and being ready when you are.”

“True. I mean, Hayoung and I luckily liked each other at the same time,” Seokjin nods.

“Liar. You had a crush on her the year before she admitted her feelings,” his younger brother calls him out.

“It was harmless!” Seokjin argues. “We went to a farm where the chickens chased her and she started running and yelling like crazy and I thought she looked adorable. It didn’t mean much until she couldn’t hold herself back from saying that she thought I was handsome.”

“It was still a crush,” Taehyung points out.

“And it materialized a year later! That happens, too. Admiration or affection for someone doesn’t always mean it has to be something more right away,” the older man counters. “Sure, we could’ve dated much earlier if I’d said something but it also could’ve gone nowhere if I went for it right then. Or she could’ve rejected me. I didn’t wanna pressure her or make it feel like she had to return the feeling, which really was just a crush.”

“True,” Hayoung hums. “I probably would’ve thought he was unserious about it or I would’ve kept my distance because I didn’t feel anything then. Like Joon said, it’s about timing. Seokjin held out and thankfully, I got to him in time.”

“She ended up falling more in love with me so… it all worked out well,” Seokjin winks.

Everyone just laughs because you all know the truth - Seokjin is crazy about Hayoung. It’s a given that he’ll be the one bawling his eyes out during their wedding.

Jungkook laughs along as the teasing continues, thankful this time that given his history, people are a bit cautious of asking him about his thoughts when it comes to relationships.

But his friends’ words linger in his mind, even as the conversation shifts to something new.

Seokjin and Hayoung’s love story always seemed so simple to him - two friends who always got along well and one day realized they felt something more. Looking at how they are, it’s as if there’s really no one else made for them but each other.

But of course, it’s never as simple as just confessing their feelings and being lucky that the other person felt the same way. It’s also about knowing what’s worth risking and when to do so. It’s about being ready to deal with the consequences, whether you’re taking a step back, forward, or staying right where you are.

Like what Seokjin said, it isn’t always about being something more right away. Jungkook thinks that maybe feelings aren't something you just have; it’s something you settle into.

The hours pass and Jungkook doesn’t notice them flying by. Between the conversations, the premier Japanese liquor and convenience store snacks, and lying on the snow by the edge of the deck then retreating to the hot tub, there’s a lot going on.

But he’s far from tired, and even if the temperature has dropped even lower, he still wants to stay out here and let his body relax.

The others have gone ahead to wash up and get ready for bed but there’s still you, Jimin, and Gyu-rim with him outside, talking about the latter’s non-existent but probable relationship with Yoongi.

“You’re the most comfortable when you’re together and it’s the same with him,” Jimin points out. “That doesn’t happen overnight and it certainly doesn’t happen with just anyone. I’m just saying that it’s something to think about. Finding someone new isn’t the only option, you know?”

Gyu-rim, who surprisingly hasn’t smacked Jimin yet for all the years he’s been insisting on this, just chuckles in response.

“I admire your commitment to this ship,” she concedes, knowing it’s better to just go along with the teasing than to react negatively.

It’s Yoongi anyway and there’s nothing to feel negative about.

“Let’s just say that I have deep love for my friends and I want them to be with people who know how to love them, or would learn how to,” Jimin responds. “I’ll shut up about it after this but I just wanted to give you that nudge. I’ve learned my lesson with the two what-ifs in our group because we just all stood by.”

She argues that sometimes, standing by is the better option but that she’s also at that age where she just wants a companion. Jimin says that he knows that Yoongi does, too.

Both of them eventually decide to retire for the night and you say you want to stay a little longer since you barely stayed in the tub. It’s just you and Jungkook now and with two people left, you take the chance to stretch your legs and submerge yourself in the hot water that you’ve slowly gotten used to. It even starts snowing and somehow that adds to your relaxation.

“So,” you turn to the man next to you who seems to be in awe of the snowfall as well. “You were quiet during all the relationship talk. You okay?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook replies, his head leaned back but facing towards you. “I guess I’m like you when I’m with more mature people. I just listen.”

“And reflect?”

“A bit of that,” he hums, shifting his gaze towards the trees now.

With you in that bathing suit next to him, it’s just another version of you that he suddenly finds pretty.

“About what?” You ask.

“Settling into feelings, I guess. How we don’t always need to act on them right away because they could be mild or fleeting or confusing or just… something that develops over time and that needs time for it to be right or enough. Or certain.”

You let his words linger. It’s something you definitely can’t relate with.

“Wow. I wish I knew that before my past relationships that failed because of my feelings that I immediately acted on,” you laugh, almost mockingly, at yourself.

“Acting on them isn’t always wrong, though. You shoot your shot when you can and you don’t always have time,” Jungkook tries to comfort you. “You could lose your chance completely.”

“That’s true but then like I said before, I get excited and impatient. Looking back, I guess I never really settled into my feelings for the people I liked because, well, it wasn’t something I thought about.”

“Me, too. It’s just something that got to me while listening to them earlier. Nothing too deep. I guess time and experience make you see and realize things that were always there but never really thought much about,” Jungkook states. “Suddenly they mean a lot more now.”

It’s the closest to being honest he could be with you about the thoughts he’s been having. Somehow this makes him feel better. He’s not lying to you or anything. He’s just settling into these newfound feelings for you.

Maybe they are fleeting or mild or confusing. Maybe it just needs time to develop into something that could be right and good enough for you, if it ever gets to that point.

Being with you right now, he’s trying to figure out what it is. It’s still a mix of everything but he’ll be patient this time. One thing is for sure though - he doesn’t want to scare you. If anything, he just wants to keep you close enough for a little while longer.

As you both lie in your beds later in the night - you next to Mo-eum and him next to Jimin - there’s space in between that perhaps resembles where you both are right now. You’re both lying on your sides and you stick your tongue out at him as good night right before you turn the light off.

He smiles to himself. It’s a good view from where he is.

It’s a little chaotic in the morning as all 12 of you take turns in the three bathrooms to get ready. People are washing their faces and brushing their teeth next to and behind each other. The men are dressing up in the hallways and in the living room while the women are behind closed doors.

And then there’s Hayoung and Suhyeon making sure there are enough water bottles for everyone and Hoseok who’s reminding you all about the proper outerwear and boots for today’s activity.

Right as you’re dressed, you feel the energy surge through you. You haven’t gone skiing in years and you’re looking forward to trying it again this time. Everyone else seems to feel the same way, especially Jungkook who keeps mumbling that he’s excited and pretty much skipping all around the house.

You put your heavy coats in the trunk and head out for a fairly long drive. You call shotgun because you like getting a wider view of the snowy streets and everyone agrees because it’s you. Jungkook drives like always, insisting that he genuinely enjoys it.

You arrive at a rest stop shortly after, as you all decided to just get snacks from there for breakfast. You divide and conquer - Jungkook orders the food and you join him because you’re curious, while the rest get the drinks.

Ordering at the ticket machine, you and Jungkook get excited about which snacks to get, even if you were confused about which buttons to press and when to pay. But you manage and buy a few flavors of the fried rice balls and croquettes then head back to the car. You start eating before Mo-eum and Taehyung return with the rest of the drinks and by the time Jungkook restarts the engine, he’s already devoured two of them.

He keeps both hands on the wheel and his eyes focused on the road while the rest of you munch on the food, humming in satisfaction and singing your praises.

You see his gaze constantly flit to the rice cake you’re eating. You think he’s probably itching to have one right now but he doesn’t want to risk putting you all in danger so you take out a piece for him to eat. Knowing he’s wary of the drive, you feed him and cup your hand under his mouth in case a piece falls.

“Hmm, that’s so good,” he moans, angling his head to the side for another bite.

You chuckle as he tries to get as much of it in his mouth so you appease him and say you’ll feed him so he can still eat them while they’re hot. He beams at you so endearingly and with his blue beanie and loose jacket on, he looks like a kid with his bunny smile and innocent doe-eyes.

It’s a complete shift from last night where he was half naked in the tub, toned abs and tattooed arm on full display. Like boys do, he, Jimin, Taehyung, and even Namjoon were all showing off their biceps and posing ridiculously like bodybuilders, triggering a pose-off and tummy ache-inducing laughter from the rest of you.

You can’t say it’s something that surprised you. Jungkook’s always been an athlete. You watched some of his swimming competitions when you were in college. You’ve also had dozens of beach trips. Toned bodies like what your friends have are normal to you and you’re often unbothered. They’re used to walking around without a shirt on and they have never felt shy around you; none of you girls ever felt bothered by it, either.

But you’re still a woman with fully functioning eyes and can appreciate a pretty physique when you see one. Jungkook just happens to possess it and being in close proximity to him reminded you of that. It’s just a funny thing to remember seeing how he is now. There’s just something so charming about him that makes you smile.

You continue feeding yourself and him throughout the drive, with him losing it with the cheese croquette, his favorite one out of everything. You bring up his iced americano to his lips, too. It’s your way of thanking him, you tell yourself, as he’s been taking on the long drives like always.

You finally make it to the ski resort and Jungkook skips all the way to the lobby. You all rent your accessories and equipment then head to the gondola all the way to the top. Despite the powdery snow, there’s still so much of it that it’s a struggle to even walk.

The view is stunning and the weather is cold and bright yet you already know you’re gonna suffer. But it’s the good kind. You’ll just brace through all the falls and face plants you’ll make but you’ll at least have fun.

It’s a group decision to snowboard first. As expected, there’s the group that can do it, and another that can definitely do better. The Kim brothers grew up doing this so their skills are not a surprise. Hayoung has done it a few times since dating Seokjin so she’s not bad at all. Namjoon is surprisingly good with his balance, Mo-eum is just good at anything sporty, and Jungkook obviously quickly relearned the ropes even though it's been years since the last time he’d done it.

And then there’s Yoongi who settles with little hops down the mountain and Gyu-rim just laughing along as they semi slide all the way. There’s Suhyeon content with cheering you on despite constantly landing on her butt, Jimin who falls after every turn, and then you who falls right behind him.

You’re just as tired at laughing at your mishaps than you are with all the face planting and swimming through snow you’ve both been doing. But you always end up turning on your back and marveling at your surroundings and the feel of the snow under you. At one point, you and Jimin almost give up.

You do manage two rounds down the slope while the others end up with a few more. You all rest at the cafe for a bit at Yoongi’s request and watch the few clips some of you managed to get of each other going down the mountain.

Skiing is a lot more doable. It’s something you’ve done more than once so it’s not hard to relearn it. But with now-sore legs and overworked muscles from all the laughing and tensing up, it’s still definitely a lot more than you can handle. But you push through because it’s seriously a lot of fun.

The snow is falling hard by the time you finish. Your hands feel frozen and your nose feels numb. Your legs and knees are definitely sore, and you feel the pain once you start going down the stairs.

Hayoung, who overdid herself a little, climbs on Seokjin’s back. You whine because you’re in pain, too, but you don’t want to trouble any of your friends who might be just as tired.

Taehyung stands next to you and chuckles at your pouty face and your eyes that are focused on your cousin and his brother.

“Do you want a piggyback ride, too?” he asks.

You nod and give him your puppy eyes, waiting for him to offer you one.

“Okay. Kook!” he yells out behind him. “Our princess needs a ride.”

Jungkook looks at him questioningly then you. “What?”

Taehyung eyes the couple not far ahead and Jungkook takes the hint.

“Ah,” he says, looking at your tired form. “Your legs hurt?”

“I can’t feel them anymore,” you wail.

You’re so dramatic that it makes Jungkook chuckle, prompting you to weakly smack his arm. But he gives in this time, seeing how helpless you look.

“Fine. Jump,” he tells you, bending low to help you get on his back then gripping your thighs to keep you steady.

It’s not a long walk back to the car but it isn’t an easy one, so you constantly apologize in between your grumbles of being in pain.

“I’ll pay for your drink at the whiskey museum tomorrow,” you promise him.

“Tempting but you don’t have to,” he says. “It’s fine. Being your carriage is totally a normal thing.”

“Hey,” you cry out. “Please? I’ll treat you something.”

“Or you can just say thank you. Really, ___. You don’t have to pay me back for every good thing I do for you.” He slowly puts you down and turns to face you. “Just… stretch and relax. The hot tub will help so get on it later. And maybe don’t snore too loud tonight.”

You laugh at the last part because of course he’ll sneak that in even if it’s unrelated, but you agree.

Sitting at the back this time, you lean your head on Taehyung’s shoulder as you slowly doze off. He opens the window to let the cold air in to wake you up a little but you still fall asleep shortly after.

Jungkook glances at you from the rearview mirror. His heart did a thing again earlier when you had your arms around his neck, and then again when you sweetly smiled at him and said thank you before you entered the car.

It’s a little different this time though as it feels more like floating. Looking at you peacefully napping, it continues to do just that.

The famous soup curry is famous for a reason. It’s rich despite the thin broth and the meat is soft and tender. It’s exactly what you need after this morning’s adventure and paired with the draft beer, it’s every bit satisfying.

You gain a bit more energy after lunch, which you quickly expend during the car ride. Taehyung is the designated driver this time. Jungkook couldn’t resist the beer earlier, so you sit between him and Jimin and they alternate between teasing you mercilessly and cooing at you.

You play the injured card, quickly clarifying that it’s your ego that's bruised after face planting so many times. Mo-eum from the front says everyone was laughing at Jimin and Yoongi more than they were laughing at you. They expected you’d fall but that the other two looked like adorable baby pandas who couldn’t get their shit together in the snow.

It’s mid-afternoon by the time you get home, which is where you’ll be staying for the rest of the day. Everyone picks their spot in the common room and you take your place on the large couch next to Hayoung. The Switch is turned on and a battle begins but you can barely keep up as not long after, you doze off.

Jungkook manages to win one game of Mario Kart before he heads out with Yoongi to buy what they’ll need for tonight’s dinner. It’s an hour later when they return and when they do, you’re still lying down on the same spot, softly snoring and getting some needed rest. He brings out the muscle spray he bought at the pharmacy and Jimin is the first one to take it. It’s passed around and when it’s returned to him, he briefly looks at you to check if you’re already awake.

You aren’t, even with the shrieking going on because of everyone’s epic fails on Fall Guys. You have your hands together tucked under your cheek and your head laying on a pillow on Hayoung’s lap. There’s this urge to tease you about still being so tired but also to move your hair out of your face and caress your cheek.

He’s a little alarmed when you start opening your eyes, paranoid that he might’ve said something while fondly looking at you or if telepathy is actually real and you’d read what was going through his mind. But you mumble something instead and shift your body for a more comfortable position. He kneels down next to you and asks what you were saying.

“Did you beat Hoseok?” You mutter.

“Yeah, earlier,” he replies. “But I haven’t played since. Yoongi and I bought stuff at the supermarket. I got muscle spray for soreness, too.”

That piques your interest, as you open your eyes wider and ask where it is.

“Jimin’s hogging it. Let me get it from him.”

He gets back to you with the bottle and you lift your pajama pants to expose your legs. Your puppy eyes tell him that you want him to do it for you. He chuckles but gets to it right away, gripping your foot and spraying the liquid on your limbs. You linger, and Jungkook instinctively sits down and lays your legs on his lap, gently massaging them.

You moan in satisfaction and urge him to continue, earning you another chuckle. He works on your joints and your calves, knowing they just need to relax and that you’ll feel better soon enough. You’re lying on your back this time, but then Hayoung says she’ll go to the bathroom so you sit up and watch Jungkook work on your legs.

“You would’ve been a good therapist if you chose that path instead of teaching,” you tell him.

“My dad said the same thing. I used to massage him after a long day of laboring when I was younger,” he laughs. “Glad I haven’t lost my touch.”

“You’re good. I approve.”

Your face contorts in pain when he kneads the tender parts and you try to move his hand towards a different area.

“But that’s where it hurts,” he insists. “I’ll go gentle, I promise.”

You let him, but your hand remains gingerly on top of his just in case. He keeps his word and goes easy on you.

“Get in the hot tub later, yeah? That’ll help,” he advises.

You nod and instead of lying back down, you lean on his shoulder while he continues massaging you. You think you can fall back asleep with how this feels.

But then Gyu-rim suggests watching a horror movie because the last time you did that in the forest was so memorable that she wants to laugh at the scaredy-cats again.

So Taehyung puts some Japanese thriller he finds on the shelf and dims the lights, resulting in 90 minutes of shrieks, curses, the occasional “I give up” from Hoseok, and the timely laughter from the horror enthusiasts. It’s quite the experience but it’s the perfect build up to dinner.

Yoongi lays out a spread of sushi and various salads for your appetizer while baking slabs of premium beef in the oven. Jungkook makes a Japanese pork offal and vegetable soup dish that sounds so perfect for tonight. Everyone else is busy drinking and eating while he’s glued next to the pot so you go to him.

He turns to you and eyes the plate of sushi you’re holding.

“Is it good?” He asks.

“So good. So fresh,” you hum. “Here, have some before they finish it all.”

You feed him some, an act that’s somehow become reflexive for you these past days, and he nods in approval. You get a few more pieces and alternate between feeding yourself and him.

The aroma of the broth wafts through your senses and you can’t wait to dip your rice in a bowl of all that goodness.

“Is it done yet?” you peek inside the pot.

“You wouldn’t know even if you tried,” he teases,

“Oh shush,” you nudge him.

He laughs but he takes out a spoon, fills it with broth, then blows on it before feeding you.

“Yup, my chef palette says that’s good.”

To his surprise, it is, and you make a claim that you’ve gotten better at this.

It’s at the same time when Yoongi says that the meat is ready so you all gather at the dining table and have dinner. You finish with matcha tiramisu and cheesecake for dessert.

You start cleaning up with Namjoon and Taehyung while the rest of your friends either move back to the living room or head to the hot tub. You can hear them laughing and playing around outside, no doubt lying on the snow again or doing something silly, but you focus on your task then get dressed before heading out the deck.

You sit with Jimin and Suhyeon while the others take a rest. Just like last night, you alternate again so everyone gets a chance to take a dip. You end up staying a little longer, hoping the hot water will relax your muscles and get you feeling better for your last full day tomorrow.

One-by-one, your friends leave the tub to wash up, as the temperature continues to drop. You’re left with Jungkook once again and he sits next to you, both of your heads rolled back, and the sounds of the wind and bubbling water filling the space.

“Feel better?” He asks.

“Yup. I wanna stay here longer but I don’t wanna stay up too late and I still wanna drink,” you say, somehow feeling like the day is too short for you to do everything you want, even if you’ve done so much already.

“We can stay for a couple more minutes. Being here for too long isn’t good, anyway.”

“Fine,” you agree. “But today was a good one. Thanks for my massage.”

“What have I not done for you at this point?” He laughs.

“I’m a spoiled brat, aren’t I?” You call yourself out.

“A little bit,” he playfully shakes his head.

“Well, thanks for putting up with me,” you mumble, and he assures you that it’s not as bad as you make it sound.

Namjoon, Yoongi, and Gyu-rim go out to drink at the picnic table on the other end of the deck and they raise their glasses to you in acknowledgement, warning you of Jimin possibly finishing off the sake if you don’t stop him.

You say you’ll wash up soon but remain on your spot, occasionally stretching your legs, until you return your focus to Jungkook and shift to face him.

With his whole lower body submerged in the water and only his neck and his damp hair on the surface, he doesn’t look as intimidating so you start playing around with his hair and attempt to tie a ponytail at the top, resembling a sprout. He grumbles under his breath but he doesn’t say a word. He just closes his eyes and lets you do what you want.

For Jungkook, an attempt to stop you would be futile. That would entail fighting you off and getting a little too close in such a small space, which again would be deemed normal if it wasn’t for his growing fondness for you. He tries to just watch what you’re doing but given your proximity, he thinks that closing his eyes would be better for his stupid heart.

“Ooh, you’re letting me tie your hair,” you point out. “That’s new.”

“I’d have to pry you away for you to stop and I don’t want you falling out of this tub or something,” he reasons.

“Hmm, you have a point.”

You giggle when you finish, and it’s at the same time that Taehyung appears behind the glass door and waves. He spots Jungkook’s sprout and starts laughing, too. Opening the door, he coos at his friend and pulls up his phone to take a photo.

You immediately scoot closer to Jungkook and pose multiple times before your friend gives a thumbs up sign and walks back inside the house. You can see the rest of them still in the dining room, looking like they’re playing card games and downing the remaining bottles of alcohol you’ve all been buying since you arrived.

Jungkook stands up from the tub and turns to the door to see what he looks like through his reflection. He frowns at you in response.

“Okay, sprout off,” you say once he sits on the ledge. “It doesn’t fit the muscle bunny Jungkook vibe.”

“What?”

“Your hair has to match your body. It looked fine when you were submerged in the water,” you reason, pulling the hair tie off him. “Now with these muscles and these abs and this tattoo sleeve, it’s a mismatch.”

“How is it that you analyze even these things?” He questions.

“It’s my brain. It just does.”

He descends back down once the cold air becomes too much and you’re just there, so close yet so far like many times before. There’s that urge to get even closer and just examine your face, now that he’s looking at you in a new light.

Settling in the feeling, he reasons to himself. Figuring out if it’s fleeting or something more.

He repeats the words in his head as he watches you flounder in the tub. You move to the end near the railing and the snow lightly falls on your head. It almost feels romantic, as you sit there with a soft look on your face and a sweet smile as you let the snow touch your skin.

But with you, unpredictability is a thing. Before he knows it, you’re scooting back close to him. You lift his right arm from under the water and start pointing out the tattoos that you think are new.

“I just had them colored. Some were redone,” he explains.

“Ahh,” you reply, wiping off the droplets on some areas so you can see them better, unknowing of the shivers you’re causing. “So do you just wear a jacket every time you’re at the school?”

“Pretty much,” he hums. “When it’s hot, I wear a shirt and then an arm sleeve to cover it up. Thankfully they weren’t too strict about it, although I was almost not accepted because of it. I just made up some story that I was trying to be cool in college so I got them but I straightened myself out and wanted a fresh start so I became a teacher.”

“Wow what a liar,” you respond. “You were getting new ones even after you got the job.”

“I know. But they don’t know that,” he laughs.

“I think it looks cool on you.”

“You called it a muscle bunny vibe,” he deadpans.

“It’s because you have an adorable bunny face but your body’s ripped. Bunnies are fluffy, chunky babies. They have puffy cheeks. They don’t have abs.”

“They could. If they exercised.”

His comment sounds ridiculous and it makes you laugh, as an image of a bunny doing crunches flashes in your mind. You think he imagines that, too, as he laughs right after. It’s a silly thing but it’s one of many things that you talk to Jungkook about. One evening you’re reflecting about feelings and relationships and the next, you’re picturing bunnies exercising.

“Yah, you two,” Yoongi’s voice cuts through your muffled laughter. “It’s getting too cold. You might get sick. Wash up soon.”

“We will already, uncle,” you grin at him.

You stand up and slowly make your way to the steps but Namjoon tells you to stop so Jungkook can help you down and avoid a probable accident. So he does, walking ahead of you then down the stairs before you take his hand and follow him.

Your room is still empty when you get your clothes. When you return after your bath, Mo-eum and Taehyung are on your bed, watching something on the laptop. Clearly yesterday’s conversation about their history didn’t change anything between them, as they’re as comfortable next to each other as they’ve always been.

There are still a few people at the dining table when you go there for a few drinks. You get the sake before Jimin finishes the bottle and you drink it and then some.

One-by-one, they start to retire for the night. You have a glass of beer that you want to keep drinking whereas Jungkook lost to rock-paper-scissors so he’s finishing the cup of mixed alcohol as penalty, so you both stay behind.

You tell him that he can throw it down the drain and you can keep it a secret but he honors the rock-paper-scissors code, he insists, so he’ll finish it off.

Keeping each other company has become a pattern for both of you recently, but you suppose it’s just the timing of everything. He moved into an apartment his cousin owns that’s closer to his school last year; it also happens to be 15 minutes away from you.

Both of you aren’t in relationships so it’s easier to hang out. Plus, you committed yourself to maintaining a work-life balance after you suffered burnout some months ago, and that’s meant switching off during the weekends and being a lot… calmer, you think. Probably less erratic and maybe more bearable.

All of those circumstances just happened to take place around the time Taehyung came home and commenced his role of being the trip planner. Before then, you and Jungkook were either in a relationship or neck-deep into your job or both.

You were definitely a different person back then and you suppose he was, too. Now, you get to spend time together and just enjoy each other’s presence, something you always have but something you get to experience differently this time.

And it’s a good feeling, something that you don’t express out loud. Not that you think he’ll judge you or anything but only because somehow, you think he’s thinking the same thing.

You do your final cheers then clean up before brushing your teeth and heading to your room, ready to finally rest.

Except when you get there, you find Jimin sprawled on the mattress on the floor this time with the phone on his face, no doubt having fallen asleep while playing his games. Mo-eum and Taehyung are fetus-curled on either side of your bed, softly snoring.

That leaves one bed for you and Jungkook, and the realization that this has never happened before hits you. Not that it’s uncomfortable; it’s just that you’ve always been closer to the other guys and he’s always been closer to Mo-eum. Still, you don’t mind but he seems like he does.

“I can sleep on the couch,” he mumbles.

“It’s soft but not as soft as this bed. We can just stay here. You need proper sleep and this is big enough for both of us,” you insist. “Is that okay with you? I mean, I’ve slept next to the guys before.”

“Yeah, and you’ve either elbowed or kicked each one of them. More than once,” he reminds you.

“Is that why you don’t want to sleep here?” You ask worriedly.

He hates it but Jungkook half-lies.

“Yup.”

You think about it for a second but still insist. He’s already slept on the couch in the other hotel and you don’t want him to do that again.

“Nah, you’re strong. You can handle me,” you wink.

“Fine,” he grumbles, mockingly laughing at himself for giving in so easily once again.

“Don’t worry, there’ll be a pillow between us,” you assure him.

“Yeah, whatever. By the way, they left the blinds open. You don’t like the light, right?”

“Hmm, I usually don’t and I know you don’t, too, but uh… Can we leave it up? I wanna fall asleep and wake up to that sight,” you say, gesturing towards the snow-covered branches of the trees right outside the window.

“Sure.”

Jungkook climbs in bed next to you with the pillow in the middle, even if he knows you’ll hog that, too, because apparently, you like hugging something when you sleep.

You’re on your side with your eyes glued to the window and he lays on his side as well, facing you.

“I’ve been so enchanted by this city and how the snow covers everything,” you whisper, no doubt being sentimental at this time. “I just want to ingrain the image of this place in my mind as much as I can. Jimin got me so fascinated with snow. I used to not care much about it.”

“I’ll get you a snowglobe in one of the shops tomorrow then,” he smiles. “That might help.”

“It will,” you groggily smile back. “You’re so sweet, Kook. I’m glad we–”

And just like that, you’ve fallen asleep.

It’s fitting how the night ends, he thinks. There’s a short distance separating both of you but so many years and memories in between. You’ve always been there just as the snow has always been around, yet it takes something, or someone - perhaps a moment - to make him look at things in a different light.

Has it always been like this? Have you always been like that? What was it these past months that made the difference?

He’s unsure but he doesn’t want to overthink. Just like you, he wants to ingrain this in his mind as much as he can. He’ll deal with whatever comes after when it comes.

The first sliver of light cuts through your eyelids and you curl yourself closer to the pillow to hide your face. It works only a little, and you mentally curse yourself for leaving the blinds up. No one else seems bothered because no one’s put them down yet. It would’ve been Jungkook but you suppose he’s too exhausted.

You turn to your side and find his tattooed arm over his eyes and you kind of feel bad. So you get up and walk towards the window, marvel at the trees for a few seconds, then pull down the blinds. You return to bed and go back to sleep, knowing you’ll see it again later on. And tomorrow, too, for the last time.

You wake up two hours later to Jungkook saying that the guys have made breakfast. You stretch your legs and ask him if he can put on the muscle spray again even if you’re feeling a little better. He does, and you smile when he briefly massages your calves before he pulls you up from the bed.

Everyone else has gone up so you head to the dining table and find a spread of scrambled eggs, bacon and sausages, toast, and pastries. Hayoung and Gyu-rim apparently watched a cooking show this morning and immediately craved a Western breakfast, so Yoongi and Seokjin went to the supermarket to grab ingredients and cooked them.

It smells amazing, and you hum in delight at how good it is. It feels so foreign yet it tastes like comfort.

There’s no rush in spending your last full day. You drive to explore a quaint town then hang out at a cafe to play with cats and drink coffee. You go to a whiskey museum and laugh at Jungkook and Jimin doing some role play by the bar.

You try some samplers and end up getting Jungkook one of the bottles he chose not to get because he’s used up all his alcohol budget for this trip. You give it as a surprise while walking back to the car.

“___, I told you you didn’t need to get me anymore,” he groans.

“Yeah but.. You carried me, you've been massaging me… And you’re gonna drive me home tomorrow,” you say.

“So what, should I expect you to get me something every time I do something for you?”

“Uh… no.”

“Exactly, so there’s no need to.”

“Too bad, it’s already paid for,” you shrug. “Plus, you looked so sad when you had to give it up. You were pouting your lips and pep talking yourself into accepting that you weren’t gonna get it.”

“I’m also an adult who’ll get over it,” he points out.

“Well, just think of it as a birthday or Christmas gift or something.”

“You’ve never gotten me either of those,” he deadpans.

“Exactly! So here,” you chirp, placing the bottle in his hand. “Belated happy birthday and advanced Merry Christmas.”

He laughs at your persistence but accepts that this is how you are. Again, it’s the tenderness of your personality that he’s been experiencing these past few weeks that builds on the fondness, that makes him enjoy being around you.

“Fine. Thank you,” he finally smiles and accepts.

Not long after, you go to a street lined with local shops. That’s where Jungkook finds you a snowglobe of this town. He gets you another one of a tree with a deer next to it. He’s also never gotten you a gift so he says it’s for all the years that he missed out on.

Later in the night, after having dinner at a hotpot place and spending the rest of it reminiscing about the trip over tea and milk, you lay on your side next to Mo-eum, as you’ve returned to your original sleeping arrangements. You place both snowglobes on the night table next to you, as if in replacement of the view from your window.

“Careful, you might hit and break them,” Jungkook warns from not far away.

“I think my body can only recognize body parts when it’s hitting something,” you laugh. “But don’t worry, they’ll be safe.”

“They better. They’re your reminder of this place.”

“Well, years from now when I still feel my sore joints, I’ll be reminded of Sapporo,” you laugh.

Jungkook laughs, too, and thinks that while you’ll have those as a reminder, he has this other than the bottle of whiskey you got him - this view of you smiling at him as you fall asleep.

Even if you remain as friends, years from now he’ll think of this trip and how you made it enchanting for him with the moments, the silence, and all your unspoken words.

You leave Sapporo the next afternoon.

It’s quite a drive to the airport and you savor the scenery as you pass the snow-covered mountains and frozen lakes for the last time.

You sit next to Jungkook again on the flight home, with your head leaned on his shoulder while you both look at the photos in the shared photo album. He drops you off at your apartment after you all have dinner at a restaurant and the entire drive had you laughing and teasing each other, same as how you spent the entire trip.

He helps you unload your luggage and walks it up to the entrance to your apartment building.

The snow starts falling at this time and you ruffle Jungkook’s hair and call him out for not wearing his beanie.

“I’ll live,” he laughs.

You just smile in response, thankful that you spent the past week making new memories with this man you feel you don’t have enough of. It’s weird how a trip can do that - make you experience someone you’ve known for a decade as if for the first time.

But you suppose life is like that. We focus on certain things at certain points of our lives depending on who and where we are at that time. We rediscover people and feelings and friendships and maybe that’s what living means. Those that remain are the ones that matter.

“Enjoy the holidays, okay? And have a safe trip home tomorrow,” he says.

You’re riding with Hayoung to Gwangju in the morning and Jungkook’s driving to Busan with Jimin in the afternoon.

“And don’t hurt yourself. Your legs are still a bit sore,” he reminds you.

“I’ll be alright,” you say confidently.

He chuckles and heads back to his car. You wave him goodbye for the last time then head to your apartment.

Five minutes later, you text him.

[To: bunny kook] I stubbed my toe on the couch 🙁

He laughs out loud and decides to call you. You don’t need him to come back, you say, but you wail that you miss him already.

He knows what you mean but it doesn’t stop his heart from doing that thing again. He ends up talking to you on the phone throughout his drive and while you’re both unpacking and then packing again for your respective trips.

You hang up first and Jungkook already dreads what these next few weeks of being away from you would mean.

Settling into the feeling could mean accepting that proximity is the biggest factor and that being physically apart is what’ll make him get back to how things used to be. He could also be convinced it wasn’t much anyway.

It could mean settling into the idea that both of you have changed over the years and have truly committed to just being better friends for each other.

Or it could mean that there really is something more, and he’s gonna have to figure out how to live with that, whether or not you feel the same way.

Series Masterlist

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#jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x oc #jungkook fanfic #jungkook #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook series #jungkook fluff #jungkook comfort #something about you

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clownprincesshq · 2 days ago

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Hey! I've been reading your works for a while and wanted to request something if that's alright.

Main! Mark Grayson X Rocket Raccoon! Inspired Reader! Super smart, a little unhinged, some jokes or comments go over her head, and then sensitive - which is more so just because I am a very sensitive person and feel emotions really sttingly tbh.

I love what and how you write and how you've studied Mark's character, I've been thinking about writing something for him, any tips? <3

mark grayson x rocket raccoon!inspired reader headcanons + tips on writing mark (sfw + nsfw)

from the very first meeting, mark knows you’re different.

you’re mouthy. smart. wired a little too tight.

you patch a hole in his suit while insulting his fighting, and then when he thanks you, you just blink at him like he spoke another language.

"what? it’s basic engineering. you’re welcome, dumbass."

you don't always catch sarcasm. or jokes.

mark will make some dumb comment like, "guess i'm indestructible now, huh?"

and you’ll nod seriously and launch into a three-minute explanation about stress points in viltrumite anatomy.

he LOVES it. he teases you about it constantly but he loves the way your brain works.

you’re cocky in fights but weirdly shy about personal compliments.

he says you’re amazing and you short-circuit.

literally just fumble whatever’s in your hands and mumble

something like, "shut up before i bite you." (he grins. he grins so big.)

you mask your sensitivity with confidence.

call yourself "the baddest bitch on this planet"

but if mark slightly raises his voice at you, your ears flatten metaphorically and you feel bad for hours.

he catches on real quick.

when you're overwhelmed, he doesn’t push.

he gets quieter. brings you food. taps your shoulder lightly before touching you.

“hey. it’s okay. you’re okay.”

you invent things for him without him asking.

upgraded earpiece? check.

modified suit? check.

a taser glove just because you think it'd be funny, even though he doesn't need it? double check.

your love language is acts of service and aggressive protection.

if someone so much as looks at mark wrong, you’re already stepping in front of him like a furious tank.

"he asked for no pickles"

(he’s a viltrumite. he can punch planets. but still. he lets you.)

the first time he sees you cry, it wrecks him.

you try to hide it, making some stupid joke about "malfunctioning tear ducts."

he just pulls you into his arms, no questions, no teasing.

and you cling. hard. like you’re scared he’ll disappear.

(he won’t.)

he loves how chaotic you are.

the way you swear under your breath while fixing his gear.

the way you throw random science facts into conversations like grenades.

the way you forget basic social cues but remember every single thing he’s ever said about what he likes or wants.

you pretend you’re too cool for cuddling.

(you are not.)

he calls you out on it every time.

"you can come closer, you know. i don't bite."

"no, but i do."

(five minutes later you're in his lap, snoring into his hoodie.)

he thinks you're the best thing that ever happened to him.

you're smart and brave and weird and you care so much harder than you ever let people see.

and he sees it. all of it.

and he stays.

always.

TIPS FOR WRITING MARK!

SFW (his personality/emotional side)

• he's emotional but not weak willed mark feels everything super heavy, love, anger, guilt, all of it. but he doesn’t just curl up and cry about it. he gets hurt, yeah, but he keeps fighting. he’s built to take the hit and keep moving because he has to.

• acts on feelings without overthinking he doesn't sit around planning what to say. if he’s happy, he smiles and grabs you. if he’s scared, he says it. if he loves you, it comes out before he even realizes it. he’s messy and raw in a way that's actually honest.

• stubborn as hell mark will dig his heels in and argue with god himself if he thinks he’s right. even if it’s dumb. even if he’s dead wrong. you have to drag him by the collar sometimes to get him to listen.

• loyalty that hurts him he sticks with people even when they don’t deserve it. it’s not because he’s naive it’s because once he loves you, you’re in his heart and it’s damn near impossible for him to shut that off, even when it’s killing him.

• confident, but still figuring shit out he knows he’s strong. he knows he’s capable. but he’s still learning who he is, where his limits are, what he really wants. he fucks up and second guesses sometimes, but he doesn't quit.

• real as hell mark’s not trying to act cool, or hot, or mysterious. he’s just him. sweaty, loud, stubborn, tender. he doesn’t play at being something he’s not and that’s why people fall for him.

NSFW (the way he is in bed)

• not shy, not cocky just needy mark isn’t giggling or stammering if you touch him. he’s already reaching for you. he wants it and he’s not scared of showing it. half the time he’s hard just because you looked at him a certain way.

• messy, greedy, not ALWAYS gentle unless you need it he fucks like he’s starving. not sloppy like he doesn't know what he's doing hungry like he needs to feel you everywhere. he’s rough without meaning to be rough. he just wants you too much to pace himself.

• gives a shit about your pleasure mark’s not the "one and done" type. your moans get him off. if you’re not falling apart under him, he’s not done yet. fingers, mouth, hips whatever it takes. he's not just trying to get himself off, he wants both of you wrecked.

• physical as hell he’s grabbing your thighs, kissing you so hard your lips bruise, pressing you down into the bed like he can’t get close enough. half the time he doesn’t even realize how rough he’s being until you’re literally clawing at his back.

• emotional even when he’s fucking your brains out he doesn’t lose the tenderness. even when he’s fucking you hard enough to shake the bed, he’s holding your hand, burying his face in your neck, groaning your name and saying he loves you like you’re the only thing keeping him alive.

how fandom sometimes mischaracterizes mark vs how he actually is:

fandom: turns him into a shy, blushing virgin who can't handle basic flirting reality: mark is horny, direct, and wants physical closeness he doesn’t freeze up, he leans in fast. he's human.

he's awkward socially sometimes, yeah but when he’s with someone he wants? he’s bold. he touches, kisses, asks, takes. he’s not as scared of sex or intimacy as everyone thinks he is.

fandom: makes him cold and emotionally shut off to seem "cool" or for a plot point reality: mark is warm, intense, and sometimes too open with his feelings.

he says "i love you" too soon. he fights for people even when he shouldn't. he throws his heart into everything and deals with the fallout later. he’s not aloof he’s raw.

fandom: flattens him into perfect boyfriend energy with no real flaws reality: mark is sweet, stubborn, impulsive, emotional and a goddamn mess sometimes.

he loves like breathing, he fights like bleeding, he fucks like breaking apart. he’s not perfect. he’s real. that's what makes him hit harder than some made up ideal version.

🃜🃚🃖🃁🂭🂺 everything about mark, the way he loves, the way he fights, the way he fucks, comes from the same place he feels too much and he can’t hide it. he’s not built to be quiet, careful, or perfect. he’s built to burn hot, crash hard, and pick himself back up bloody and stupid + try to do better next time because that’s who he is. if you’re writing him, let him be loud, raw, and real.

#invincible #invincible x reader #invincible fanfic #invincible season 3 #invincible angst #invincible x you #mark grayson x reader #invincible smut #reader insert #x reader #mark grayson x you #mark grayson smut #mark grayson

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windyremedy · 3 days ago

Text

puppy pleads

pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader

scenario: realizing that katsuki does everything you want ft. my dad with the dog he said he didn’t want

Takeshi Bakugou compared to his other siblings listened to his parents the best. Not that the others don’t but by far he’s the quickest to respond doing whatever they asked, whether it be to go sleep on time or help sweep the floors. But one thing’s for certain and something he probably got from his father is that he’s unshaken when he sets his mind to something and that something he wants is a pet, a companion if you will.

But no matter how much times he asks and pleads they always seemed to tell him no. Well more specifically his dad refused, telling him that they’re too messy and require a lot of work. Takeshi understood that they probably couldn’t afford taking care of another living being especially since they had their hands full with his baby sister but c’mon he was feeling lonely. After his oldest brother left for U.A early and his other brother busy with presedential club duties things were just too quiet for his liking.

Don’t get things twisted though he didn’t feel left out with his parents. In fact he adores his baby sister and loves being an older brother after being the youngest for so long but can’t a boy just get another pal?

“Mom can you please convince dad to agree.” he begged as you sat there amused on a kitchen stool, feeding Asami a spoon of baby food.

“Love he tells me no too y’know.” you informed laughing slightly at his incredulous expression.

“Impossible!” he exclaims in total disbelief.

“It’s true, remember when he was on that one long month mission and you wanted to gonna sleep in our room because you missed your dad so much you wanted to sleep on his side of the bed because it smelled like him.”

“Yeah what about that time?” he asked skeptically.

“I asked him for a specific snack but it was already too late to get anything.” you replied wiping Asami’s messy mouth.

“But then he bought some coming home though, a few days after he got back he secretly ordered online and got them for you.” Takeshi pointed out with pinched eyebrows and a detective pout.

“Oh! I guess you’re right. Well there was also the time where I wanted to get another plushie for Asami but he said there was already too many.”

“Uh huh and he bought that too when you weren’t looking.” he confidently retorts.

“But….”

“Got you that too…”

“Also…”

“Surprised you…”

“That time…”

“Actually…”

And many more instances where you remembered Katsuki had told you no but actually in fact got what you wanted anyway.

“Okay! okay, maybe he doesn’t say no to me a lot.” you admitted, now realizing that fact.

“At all.” He corrected.

“Fine, I’ll ask your dad but I’m not promising anything kay? now can you please get more tissues before— wait Asami no!” you pried her little arms from trying to eat the food around her face with her palms.

“Kay!!” Takeshi smiled avoiding the messy onslaught and already looking like he just got what he wanted.

three months later

“Dad you can’t be giving Snowball too many snacks.” Takeshi laughed at the sight.

The small little puppy laying peacefully on the large hulking figure whose expression can send enemies running was a whiplash to see for sure. He had just gotten back from school and the new addition in to the family seemed to be fitting in perfectly. Takeshi knew just a couple weeks after his mom asked that his dad would give in.

“He wanted a treat, I can’t not give him a treat. What do you want me to do? not give him a treat? I have to give him a treat.”

“Okay dad.”

©windyremedy

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #remfics☁️

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joyswonderland1108 · 1 day ago

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"KEEP GOING". Okay but.. going where, exactly?

You know, i was minding my own business, lying to myself that i had emotionally recovered from "Who", when i remembered that glorious monitor shot of Jungkook's eyes, glowing like the moon itself, and right above him.. the words "KEEP GOING"

I blinked. I sniffled. I screamed internally.

But i let it slide. I said "no Joy, maybe it's just encouragement for life. For growth. For stage presence. For getting up in the morning without dissolving into tears because Park Jimin looked into a screen and saw Jeon Jungkook's face and decided that was the push he needed."

BUT THEN. THEN. THEN.

Came the "Are You Sure?" poster. And guess what's slathered across it again like some poetic whisper from the depths of the Jikook Cinematic Universe?

KEEP. GOING.

Oh. Oh Okay. So we're doing that again?

Because i thought i was hallucinating the first time. I really did. "Who" drops, and suddenly Jimin's staring at a monitor like he's receiving a divine prophecy, and who's on that screen? Jungkook. And what's floating above him like a celestial commandment from Gay God himself? "KEEP GOING".

I looked at it. It looked at me. We looked at each other. And i said "huh. Interesting. Probably just a cute little motivati-" NOPE. Shut up. No. We are not doing that rationalizing thing today.

Because fast forward to "Are You Sure?" and BAM. There it is again. That same cursed phrase. "KEEP GOING". Like a haunting. Like a secret code. Like Jikook's personal tagline for their unauthorized, unwritten, but highly televised romance.

Let me just.. hold on.

Let me put on my my conspiracy theory hat, no, my whole tinfoil bodysuit, and dive in.

(Me with my Jikookies going down that rabbit hole)

Because if we're gonna be told twice, not once, but twice, in big bold letters that we should "keep going", then i'm gonna start asking QUESTIONS.

Like:

Keep going WHERE?

Keep going with WHO?

Keep going.. HOW gay is this road exactly?

Are we talking Seasong 2 of AYS where we finally get a confession on camera, filmed like a K-drama, complete with cherry blossoms and tragic violin music?

Or maybe it's a Jikook subunit called "Keep Going", where every song, or every line, is them soft-singing each other's name while playing acoustic guitar and making eye contact?

A Jikook movie perhaps? A coming-of-age story about two boys who found each other in the chaos of idol life and clung on like they were the only real thing left?

Or, and hear me out, to coming out.. of the closet? Like, "keep going" down that rainbow brick road, boys. We've got flowers. We've got fanfiction. We've got archived live clips of you making heart eyes at each other in 4K. Let's gooooo.

And before someone in the back starts yelling "You're reading too much into it!!!" let me just say, YEAH. I AM. That's LITERALLY THE POINT.

I'm not here for logic. I'm here for pain and chaos and the fact that Park Jimin and Jeon Jungkook keep choosing the same exact three words like it's a personal mantra carved into the walls of their heart.

They could've written anything. "Stay strong". "Belive in yourself". "Do laundry" (You and i both know what a Jikook laundry is but we're not gonna there lol) But no. They said "KEEP GOING". And not once. TWICE. Publicly. Boldly. With full chest.

So here i am. I will keep going. Right into madness. Right into emotional bankruptcy. Right into the group chat like "guys i saw another Jikook sign and i need someone to tranquilize me" (@mimiskookie @kkhluvsbts @kanmom51 Just be patient with me lol)

Because maybe, just maybe, the real meaning of "Keep going" was the delulu we made along the way.

And whatever they're doing, wherever they're going, i wanna go too. Even if it's straight to clown camp with no chance of parole.

[And just as i was about to hit "post" i remembered.. the "KEEP GOING" in BT21. Taped to the wall. Behind Chimmy and Cooky. Like the phrase itself is now following them across universes. So actually, it's not even two times anymore. It's three. No, FOUR. Jikook said keep going and i'm about to keep spiraling.]

#jikook #kookmin #minkook #Jikook is real your honor #keep going keep crying #jikook said keep going and i took it personally #delulu but with citations #emotional damage in 4K #Jikook subunit when #queer coded? Bestie it's screaming gay #I will not calm down

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towasdandelion · 3 days ago

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Plsssss Frostheim and vagastrom boys with reader text them "I love you" out of blue while thinking about their curse very late at night? Some comfort? pls?

I see we're not leaving the sadness valley just yet huh (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠) I hope you like it!!

Texting Vagastrom and Frostheim ghouls "I love you" late at night while thinking about the curse

Leo is a little shit but even he knows better than to laugh at this. In fact, it keeps him up at night. The sheer possibility of losing you is something he can't bear. And he can't help but to scold himself for being so 'pathetic' (he refuses to admit he can just get emotional). Will come over to help distract you from your thoughts saying that he should be the only thing your mind. Guess his sass can be helpful.

Alan is heartbroken. He already does his best to help you but he wishes there was something more he could do. He hates the curse and he hates seeing you suffer like this. You won't even have to ask, he will come over right away and cuddle you while rubbing soothing circles on your back until you fall asleep in his arms.

Sho knows something is amiss the moment he sees your text but he remains calm. He refuses to even think about things going wrong, actively pushing you to keep your head up and face the challenge with him by your side. He will whip up something nice for you before showing up at your doorstep, jokingly saying that your order has been delivered.

I believe Tohma keeps a thick file filled with any documents and possible plans regarding your curse. If any other house is doing an investigation he'll pull the strings so that he gets to see the mission report first. He's not afraid to use his resources. Not when your life is at stake. He will do his best to gently remind you to keep pushing, telling you how brave you are as he cuddles you.

Jin was never this set on a goal before. Much like Tohma, he'll do anything for the smallest clue. He keeps his composure around you because he knows how important his support is. He will always offer to listen to your worries, promising to get rid of every single one of them. Without even saying a word he will show up at your doorstep before scooping you up in his arms and carrying you to bed.

Luca knows how important it is to be supportive. He's going to reassure you it's okay to feel anxious and scared, just letting the emotions be there for a while until you calm down. Then he's going to take his time to reassure you that with him by your side, everything will be okay. He will come over to hold you in his arms and gently play with your hair as you fall back asleep.

Kaito curses the world everyday for how unfair it is to you. I feel like he has some fair amounts of contained anger withim him. We know he's rather... Skittish. But for you he's going to forget about his own fears. He really wants you to rely on him for support. When he sees you calmed down a bit he'll start to tickle you for a good serotonin boost, making you forget about your worries at least for a moment.

#tokyo debunker #tokyo debunker fics #sho haizono #leo kurosagi #alan mido #tohma ishibashi #jin kamurai #kaito fuji #lucas errant

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pineconepie · 18 hours ago

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hihi! could you write vincent and reader shenanigans for christmas or the holidays in general?

This is probably the most wholesome thing I've written XD

"Dad, it's snowing!" You shake Vincent awake, jumping up and down on the bed excitedly. You had woken up to see the world covered in white, ice sticking to the windows, flakes fluttering down to the ground. "Wake uuuuup."

The man groans softly, reaching over to you and pulling you into bed with him, chuckling under his breath when you whine. "Mmm, shhh... sleepy time, munchkin." His voice comes out hoarse and scratchy from sleep.

"But Dad—" you begin to say, but stop short when he rolls on top of you. You gasp, struggling to push him off of you, laughing despite your best efforts. "Daaaaaaad. You're heavy!"

"Maybe you're just weak," he teases, yawning. His eyes slowly open as he shifts so that he isn't crushing you anymore, holding you against his chest tightly instead. "Alright, alright... I'm getting up..." He kisses your forehead and ruffles your hair before sliding out of the bed. Vincent stretches for a second, groaning as his bones crack, then looks out the window, watching the snow falling silently. "Huh... so it is. Guess the forecast was right."

"Can I go outside and play in it?" you ask, tilting your head up at him. "Please?"

"Nuh-uh. It's too early, (Y/n)," he replies. "Let me wake up a little more first before you start running around like crazy." He shakes his head fondly as he slips on a robe. "I guess a cozy breakfast is in order."

"Can I eat breakfast after I play in the snow?" you beg. "I promise I'll come back when you say."

Vincent gives you a stern look. "You need energy to run around in the snow," he explains patiently, yet firmly. "No playing without eating something beforehand."

He lumbers to the kitchen, still tired, and with you trailing behind. Once inside, you climb up onto one of the stools lining the counter, watching him work around the kitchen. Vincent puts two slices of bread in the toaster, setting them to toast, grabbing various ingredients out of the fridge.

The man glances at you when he realizes you're staring at him intently. He grins. "Whatcha thinking about, kiddo?"

"How I'm going to win a snowball fight against you," you answer without missing a beat.

Vincent chuckles. "I've got an impressive amount of upper body strength and accuracy, sweetheart. If you really want to win, you need a strategy—which for the record, I'm an expert at strategy, too. You are... what do the kids like to say now? Cooked?" He grabs a bottle of orange juice and pours it into a cup, pushing it towards you.

"Everyone has a weakness," you respond. "I'll find yours."

He smirks. "Good luck."

Breakfast is eaten quietly. You eat all your food (otherwise Vincent gives you his Disapproving Dad Face) before gulping down your juice, waiting impatiently for Vincent to finish as well. Once he does, you rush off to get ready—shoes, scarf, hat, gloves, jacket—all so you could go play in the snow outside. Vincent follows suit, taking his time to slip on boots and a large coat.

The two of you walk into the elevator and descend down the building together, walking side by side out into the courtyard area of the complex. Already you see a few others having snowball fights, making snowmen and such. You smile brightly and drag Vincent further into the snow, marveling at everything.

Before you know it, you're kneeling down and building your own little fort for defense purposes. You look up, to see him simply watching. "Aren't you gonna start with yours?"

"Who says I need a fort, silly? You forget who I am." Vincent grins mischievously, already getting getting his snowballs prepared.

You're already aiming, throwing the first hit to his shoulder. He laughs, and suddenly the battle ensues.

Both of you are cackling like mad men while the cold hits your skin and the wind picks up speed around you both. As the sun rises higher into the sky above your heads, the air becomes colder yet still somehow refreshing and crisp; perfect weather to enjoy this particular activity.

Even though Vincent is winning, you can tell he's going easy on you. You're sure if he was using all of his strength, you'd probably be dead. But he never throws harder than he needs to, or faster than necessary either; rather opting to maintain a consistent pace throughout the whole ordeal. Every once in a while he'll stop just long enough to allow you a brief reprieve before restarting again.

Through it, you think back to his weaknesses. He doesn't have any that you know of.

Except...

You hide behind your wall of defense and stash a ton of snowballs together, prepped for attack.

"Dad!" you cry out dramatically.

You don't need to say anything else for Vincent to run straight to you, out of his defense and forgetting about his snowballs. Immediately he wraps his arms around you, lifting you into his chest, looking into your eyes. "Baby, what's wrong?!" He hugs you tightly. "What happened? Are you hurt?"

Your heart twists from guilt, but you decide to go for it. The element of surprise would be ruined otherwise.

"My hand..." you whine. Just when he looks at your hand, you grab the snowballs and chuck them at him, cackling like a true cartoon villain.

"I won, I won!"

Vincent is surprised at first, blinking from how his face is now wet and full of snow. Then he laughs with you, ruffling your hair. "You little brat!" You raise another snowball threateningly, to which he laughs again, holding up his arms in a gesture of peace. "Okay! Okay, you win! You found my weakness! But for the record, I think that's what some would consider cheating."

"I didn't claim I was hurt or in trouble or whatever," you reason. "All I said was 'Dad.'" To make up for it, you brush some snow from his shoulders with your gloved hands.

He pretends to be offended. "Sneaky. Were you always evil, or did my own influence corrupt you?"

"I guess I learned from the best," you chuckle. Your hands instinctively grip his sleeves tighter. "Since I won, you owe me something! I don't know what yet, but I'll think about it!"

"I've created a monster," Vincent sighs dramatically. "Come on, you can think about what you want when we warm up inside. Its starting to get pretty chilly out here."

"It is," you agree, shivering. Despite wearing layers, the chill still reaches you, even seeping through your socks.

When you get inside and change out of your cold, wet clothes, Vincent starts the fireplace in the living room, grabbing hot chocolate packets from the cupboard. He uses the kettle on the stove to boil water and carefully makes two cups - one for him, and one for you, filled to the brim with marshmallows and whip cream. Then he plops down beside you, browsing through all the movies to fit the theme for the holidays.

"What's your favorite festive movie from all of these?" he asks, scrolling through the options.

"It's hard to choose," you answer. "What about yours?"

"Die Hard, of course."

"That's not—"

"Don't ruin my joy and whimsy," Vincent playfully scolds. "Not like I'd let you watch it anyway. Rated R films would destroy your precious mind."

You roll your eyes. "Am I not sitting in the same room with a guy that kills people for a living?"

"What did I just say about my joy and whimsy?" He snickers at your expression. "Anyway, a more age-appropriate answer would be The Muppet Christmas Carol. That was probably my favorite as a kid."

"Woah, didn't know movies existed in the prehistoric ages."

"Just for that remark, I'm picking what we watch."

#answered ask #parental yandere #vincent oc #familial yandere #platonic yandere #yandad

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mintyys-blog · 2 days ago

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I see that the request are closed but when they reopen you can make a "Variants x Dante reader" I LOVE YOUR FANFICS SO MUCH BTW I'M STARTING TO WRITE BECAUSE I ADMIRE YOU SO MUCH RAHH 😭😭😭🍨🍨

DANTE | variants x dante! reader

INVINCIBLE MASTERLIST

Sinister Mark x Dante!Reader

• You don’t fear him, and that drives him insane. Everyone else bows. You crack a joke about his cape.

• “I could slice through a planet,” he growls.

“Cool story. Wanna see me juggle demon heads?”

• He tries intimidating you. You flirt. He threatens. You mock. He kisses you like he’s trying to conquer you—and you bite his lip just to prove you can’t be tamed.

• He respects your strength, but it’s your audacity that keeps him obsessed.

Mohawk Mark x Dante!Reader

• He’s impulsive and rough around the edges. You feed off the chaos.

• You both show up to fights late because you were busy gambling, drinking, or bickering over who gets to kill the boss demon.

• “This guy’s mine,” he says.

“Too slow, babe,” you reply, already mid-swing with Rebellion.

• After missions, he picks pieces of demon gunk off your coat with a twisted sort of affection. “You’re disgusting,” he says, but he’s grinning.

Viltrumite Mark x Dante!Reader

• He calls you reckless. You call him uptight. You both flirt through violence.

• Training turns into sparring turns into… let’s just say the battlefield gets heated.

• “You think you can stop me?”

“Stop you? I’m here to outdo you.”

• He may be faster and stronger, but your unpredictability keeps him on his toes—and lowkey in love.

Full Mask Mark x Dante!Reader

• He never speaks. You never shut up.

• You talk at him constantly. “So, do you brood for fun or is that mask hiding something sexy?”

• You thought he was a robot at first. Tried poking his mask with Ebony & Ivory. He didn’t flinch. You were impressed.

• He eventually gives you small gestures—tilted head, subtle nods, hand on your shoulder after a mission—and you start realizing there’s something kind behind the cold exterior.

• You tease, “You’re my silent protector, huh?” And he just shrugs…but stays close.

Maskless Mark x Dante!Reader

• He’s jaded, a bit broken, but you bring chaos that feels like freedom. You remind him there’s still something to fight for.

• You see the cracks in him and crack jokes instead of pity. That makes him respect you.

• He doesn’t stop you from charging head-first into danger, but he always has your back.

• You once sliced a demon in two just to make him laugh. He didn’t—but you felt the smile.

Prisoner Mark x Dante!Reader

• You visit him in his Viltrumite cell like it’s a date. “You miss me, handsome?” you grin, boots up on the forcefield.

• He’s got chains. You’ve got jokes and your sword.

• He doesn’t trust anyone—except you. Because you never ask for anything. You just are.

• When things break bad, he tells you to run. You reply, “I don’t run. I ride.”

• You break him out in a bloodbath, humming a rock song as you go. “Freedom looks good on you.”

No Goggles Mark x Dante!Reader

• He’s drawn to your confidence but worries about how easily you kill.

• “You enjoy it,” he says. You smirk. “Only when they deserve it.”

• He tries to pull you toward the light. You try to get him to dance in the dark.

• Your banter is endless. Your chemistry is electric. And the push-pull tension is delicious.

• Over time, you open up just enough. He learns that beneath the devil-may-care exterior is someone who does care. Just… in your own way.

Shiesty Mark x Dante!Reader

• He scams, steals, and slaughters. You style on your enemies with dramatic flair and love pissing off the powerful.

• You met during a hit gone wrong—he was there to rob a gang, you were there to kill a demon they summoned. Instant chaos, instant chemistry.

• “You kill for kicks,” he laughs.

“And you rob corpses. We’re a match made in hell.”

• You keep him on his toes with your unpredictability. He keeps you guessing with his lies.

• Dates are just heists with flirting. You blow up the vault while he shoots you finger guns. He might betray you someday—but you’d probably enjoy the fight.

Omni Mark x Dante!Reader

• He’s controlling, cold, and calculating. You’re wild, taunting, and walk into danger like it’s a party.

• He tries to lecture you. “You’re reckless and undisciplined.”

“You’re boring and constipated. Let’s fight about it.”

• You infuriate him. The fact you don’t fear him? That you laugh in his face? That you land hits in a spar? It kills him… and turns him on.

• He starts viewing you like a wildfire—dangerous, beautiful, untamable.

• Eventually, he stops trying to make you kneel—and starts wondering what it’d be like to burn beside you.

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wrongbodies · 2 days ago

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The Worst Science Convention I Ever Went To, the conclusion

After track practice ended, I took Bradley back to Randy's house. Randy's Mom was out, so it was just the two of us alone. Bradley wanted to dive right into homework, he was so innocent. I on the other hand had other plans. We were sitting on the floor of Randy's bedroom, having shoved the laundry aside, with our homework splayed out in front of us. I didn't reach for my pencil, though. I reached across the pages and touched Bradley's chest.

"Ooh, is this an invitation to skip math homework?" Bradley asked, a coy smile spreading across his face.

"Of course, cutie. Let me show you what I'd rather work on." I responded. I moved in closer and pulled his face down to mine. The kisses we shared were electric. The excitement was rushing me towards my suggestion, and it was overwhelming my caution. I had planned to try and ease my way into the plan, make it sound convincing and compelling.

Instead, I sort of blundered into the explanation.

"Bradley?" I started.

"Yes, babe?" He replied. He looked down at my face quizzically, but with affection.

"What if you could be someone else?" I asked.

"What do you mean? Like personality wise? Or are we talking some sort of metaphysical thing like 'what if I was born in China?'" He chuckled gently.

"No, silly. I mean - if you could switch bodies, would you do it?" I asked, intensifying my gaze.

"Hmmm..." He trailed off, looking down. He was giving it serious thought. "I suppose I would try it. We've been talking about consciousness and metacognition in one of my classes."

"So, what kind of person would you switch with?" I probed.

"What, like you? Are you trying to be kinky?" Bradley giggled.

"Noooo, ugh! Ok, what if we could be big college guys? Athletes?" I suggested, leadingly.

"Hey, I'm already an athlete!" Bradley quipped. He pointed at his twig like arms. "I've clearly done a lot of lifting."

"Babe, I know you are a runner. But like, what if we could be stereotypical strong jock types?" I said, pushing a little bit further.

"Oh... like a typical jock? I mean, I don't mind my body. And I love the way you look!" He said. Then he blushed as he thought about what he said.

"Babe, don't be embarrassed. I know how you feel. I feel it too, sometimes. Like what if I could just skip to college, get a degree and be a hot fuckboy." I said, going a little off my imaginary script.

"You would?" Bradley seemed to regain some composure. "You wouldn't mind leaving everything behind? Even me?"

"I wouldn't leave you, cutie. We'd both switch with someone!" I laughed.

"It sounds like you've thought a lot about this." Bradley said, turning to look into the distance. He looked away for a while, and then another splash of color spread across his face. "I guess- I guess I'd go anywhere you went. I wouldn't want to lose you."

"Aww, I appreciate that. And I love you." I said. I felt my own cheeks grow warm.

"I love you!" Bradley said, diving forward to wrap me in his arms.

"So let's do it." I whispered.

"Huh?" He mumbled. "Are you saying you actually want to?"

"Ok, don't freak out. I actually know a way we can." I said, shrugging slightly.

"You're messing with me. Don't goof baaaabe, I was going along with the thought experiment." He whined.

"No, babe, I'm being honest. I know how and know where. At that science convention I went to, I saw it happen!" I explained.

Bradley's eyes grew wide. For the next few hours we spoke at length about it. While Bradley seemed initially interested, it would actually take a long time to convince him it was safe, it was real, and that it was already arranged. Then I showed him pictures of my real body, and then a player on my lacrosse team I hated. Quinn. Fuck that guy. I had to admit he was hot, but his personality was trash and he was always picking fights with me. Jealousy, if I had to guess.

Bradley was sufficiently convinced pretty late into the evening. Randy's Mom had come home and was making dinner already. It seemed Bradley was so smitten with Randy - me, that he'd give up his Dad and small group of friends at school for this.

When I said goodbye to Bradley that night, kissing him goodbye in the deepest most passionate kiss I had ever shared that night, I reminded him it was going to be a great adventure.

****

The next day Bradley and I cut class for the first time in our lives - well, Randy's first time, I had cut many classes. We were driving in Bradley's cramped little sedan across the city. We held hands as he navigated to the lab belonging to Dr. Lark.

When we pulled up to the squat brick building in a plain business park, I saw that my car was already there. I was going to be quite impressed if Randy had actually convinced Quinn to come with him. He hated me, as Seth anyways, so I wonder what Randy could have possibly told him that would get him to agree.

We walked in, and Bradley's hands were sweating profusely. I could tell because we held hands, and he was also squeezing very hard. I stopped right before the door we were told to find.

"Hey." I said quietly. "Are you ok with this?"

"Yes. I just worry something might happen to us." Bradley said.

I leaned in and kissed his forehead gently. "Nothing bad. We will be fine."

Bradley nodded, looking a bit more confident. We walked into the office, and saw that most of it had been taken over by the experimentations of Dr. Lark. The scientist was standing on top of a platform not dissimilar to the one he had set up at the convention. He waved to us as we walked in.

My body was sitting at the side of the room at a table with a surly faced college boy I recognized. In truth, Quinn is quite handsome. He just has some sort of chip on his shoulder or stick up his ass. He scowls all the time, and always seems ready to blow up at someone. Usually me, at practice or games. He looked up at us and wrinkled his nose, but didn't say anything. I had spoken to Randy and we agreed to pretend not to know each other. For this to work, we wanted it to be as clean a break as possible.

Perhaps most fortuitous for us, when we asked Dr. Lark about trying the swap with another college boy, he was on board. He didn't even ask any questions. Seems like he just wants the data for his research. So, we decided it was a good enough arrangement and proceeded. Leading to Bradley and I standing near the orb today.

Dr. Lark explained the concept, and then Randy and I stepped forward and went first. This was key because we had to make sure we could make it happen again. Dr. Lark had also done research about what happened before, realized that the drifting entangles the minds of two people, and when both minds stray too far into the others psyche, suddenly ending the drift would force the minds into the body of the current psyche they were attached to.

To track this, he had rigged up a program that would indicate in a basic way on a monitor where each consciousness was relative to their bodies.

When I placed my hand on the sphere with Randy, the sensation was much as I remembered. We drifted off into a void, sounds, sensations, lights swirling around. We mingled in our memories and experiences, before long we were feeling each others emotions currently. It was clear that Randy had been struggling in my body. He had been feeling really depressed. He also seemed a bit intrigued that I wasn't as depressed. In fact, he found the feelings I had developed for Bradley quite amusing.

Before I could process his emotions more, we were yanked out of the void. When I came to, I was there in reality once more. Everything felt good again. I looked down and saw my hands, rough from playing sports for years. My lacrosse hoodie was on, and I had on some joggers I liked. I was beaming, it felt so right to be back home. I had to mask some excitement though, I didn't want Bradley to think I was overeager, and Quinn to think something was up.

I looked at Randy and gave a subtle nod. We dismounted from the platform and let the other two take our spots. They placed their hands and slipped into the trance like we had just done. Dr. Lark watched the monitors, and when it was time, he quickly deactivated the machine.

Bradley and Quinn started to come to, and at first neither of them seemed to sense anything was different. But then Quinn's face turned towards me, in my actual body. He smiled, a warmth and kindness to his expression I had honestly never seen before. He practically jumped off the platform to come embrace me.

The real Quinn, residing now in Bradley's scrawny body was staring. He was clearly confused by the sight of his body running to and hugging his teammate and enemy. His shock deepened when they kissed dramatically. I was watching his reactions with supreme satisfaction.

"Randy, omg I feel so different. Like I can run, but also I could just-" He wrapped his much thicker arms around me and lifted me off the ground. Impressive considering my body weighed a lot more than Randy's, but Quinn was quite buff. It made sense.

"What the fuck is going on?" Quinn asked, from Bradley's quivering mouth.

"Ok, looks like it's time for you kids to get going!" Dr. Lark barked, shooing the four of us out.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Bradley stammered. It was no use, Bradley and I helped drag him out, and Randy snickered from behind.

"Ok Bradley, it's time to go home!" Randy said to Quinn, who was still aghast at his tiny new body. He grabbed him by the wrist and led him to Bradley's car, fishing his keys out of his pocket. Quinn seemed too shocked to say anything now.

My Bradley on the other hand, in Quinn's handsome body, thick arms, short gelled black hair, and thick fuzzy brows, looked at me with a familiar loving look. "Hey 'Quinn' why don't we get out of here?"

"I would like that very much, 'Seth.'" He said, warmly.

"And remember, those are our names now!" I said, smiling. I knew he'd adjust easily. He had me, his "Randy" but as long as he calls me Seth I can accept him thinking I was a nerd inside.

For a long time after that day, I pondered what really happened in that first drift. I sincerely believe I had been straight before that. But I wonder if something else happened. Maybe Randy's sexuality and love for Bradley clung to my consciousness. As time went on, we found some things from Quinn seemed to have latched on to Bradley. Thankfully not his sexuality or temperament. However, his lacrosse skills came along, which was a boon for us to keep playing together. It also made it easier to explain my lack of academic prowess. I told him it must have went to Randy's new inhabitant.

While I felt guilty sometimes about what we did to Quinn, and the lie we were telling Bradley... I was happier than ever. My parents took it surprisingly well, especially since Bradley was a good influence on my personality. I calmed down a lot, saving all my sexual energy for my hot, smart boyfriend. I never had as much affection, love, and touch in my life. And the best part, being at college we had so much more time to spend together. I was excited to see what we'd do when we graduated. Where we'd go, together.

Note: Thanks to all who have been reading my stories. I love writing, it feels like a return to my old passion. I had not been writing much or at all for years. Rest assured I am already cooking up new ideas. Another plan is to introduce 1-shot stories for the Mindweft and other concepts I've already created. In my imagination, the swaps never stop!

#malebodyswap #male body swap #maletransformation #bodyswap #body switch #body swap #gay

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beef-brisket · 22 hours ago

Text

Adam chuckled: You're a weird little dude, huh? Alright uh... is this about our outing?

The king thought for a moment before shrugging: Possibly.

Adam: ...Okay. Fair. I can get a bit crazy when I'm on the town, say things I don't mean.

Lucifer rolled his eyes: You had two shots.

Adam: We've been over this. 8,000 hears- look. That doesn't matter. I think I know what's wrong.

Lucifer: Oh? And what do you think is wrong?

Adam sighed: I failed the test. Said... a cuss at Charlie- and that didn't make you feel good... I think?

Lucifer chuckled: Sure. Why not! Humour me. How can you make that up to me?

Adam: Hm... apologise to... you?

Lucifer: Try again.

Adan: ...To Charlie?

Lucifer smirked: One more try~.

Adam narrowed his eyes: I'm not blowing you. Yet. We agreed to take this slow, Lucifer! And here you are- ready to jack off in the hallway!

Lucifer laughed: Oh, Adam- this is sooo slow for me! Lilith and I had sex within a day of meeting!

Adam: ...Y-You what?

The king froze and cleared his throat: Adam- that's not what's important-.

Adam: Be honest with me. Do you want to fuck me, just to get off or do you actually want something with me...?

Lucifer: S-Something with you, of course!

The first man sighed and looked away: Okay- that doesn't matter right now... what's going on with you, then?

The king watched Adam for a moment before sighing: I just... feel down, I guess... just one of those days.

Adam: So... would you like a bath or something? I could... bake you something.

Lucifer perked up and stared at Adam, who was playing with his fingers: Bake me something? You bake?

Adam: Dude, I literally cooked for you when I was at yours- those chocolate muffins you had-? I made them!

Lucifer: O-Oh. Adam. Those were amazing! You should run a cooking class !

Adam: Pft. Don't get excited, weirdo. You're the only one I want to cook for.

Lucifer smiled widely as Adam blushed once he realised what he just said: Adam! Aren't you sweet!

Adam grabbed Lucifer by the hand, pulling him up and towards his little apartment: C-Come on, dork! Before someone sees me being the best partner ever-!

Lucifer: Partner?! That sounds so good coming from you-!

As soon as they were in the room, Adam Bee lined for the bed and collapsed on it, pulling g Duckvid into his arms.

Lucifer: Oh, Adam- you're simply the cutest! Who would have thought you were such a dotting boyfriend?!

Adam: L-Look! I've only had two relationships in Heaven- I... I like looking after people, okay... it feels... normal... and I care about you... I don't want you to feel down. You're the goofiest guy I knoe- I don't want you sad.

The king smiled and climbed on top of the bed, next to Adam: I appreciate that, Adam... I don't want to be sad either... she lied about you.

Adam: ...Don't mention her anymore... I'm over hearing about her- being compared to her... I just... want to be your Adam. Not your replacement for Lilith... at least, I hope you don't see me as a replacement-.

Lucifer gasped and cupped his face: You're not a replacement! You're your own person! And... I'm really liking that person~.

The king flushed as Adam held his hand so gently and pressed his lips to his knuckles: And i want you to start being kinder to yourself, Lu. You don't give yourself enough credit.

King of Depression

@beef-brisket

Lucifer had been helping around the hotel or he tried to at least. There wasn't much he could really do, but he couldn't help with any of the actual redemption planning. That was more Charlie's area of work and he just trusted that she knew what she was doing.

Adam had been staying at the hotel and over the last few months they seemed to have gotten back on friendly terms, which was nice. But he's been going to therapy with Charlie and doing his own thing.

Lucifer made them pancakes....... There's only so many pancakes someone can make before people get sick of them.

He felt that familiar feeling of darkness creeping into him, it felt like he was a bump on a log just getting in people's way. Like he wasn't wanted there and that he was useless.

Maybe he should go back to the manor, Charlie hadn't been asking for help for anything and he didn't want to bother Adam........ He probably didn't want him around much anyway.....

No one did.

Maybe a couple days at home will be fine, he can check up on his work and get some things done.

That was the plan anyway.

Adam came knocking on Lucifer's door at the hotel, it's been two weeks since he's since the little guy and he's actually starting to worry a little.

Adam: Open up shortie!

The door opened a little bit and opening it more Adam could see that Lucifer wasn't even there. And by the looks of it he hadn't been there for a while.

Adam: The fuck?

He went back down to the lobby to talk to Charlie, she was organizing her binder.

Adam: Yo girlie, where's your old man?

Charlie blinked: He's not in his room?

Adam: No, he hasn't been here for a while.

Charlie: Hmmm, he might be at home. Would you mind checking up on him?

Adam: Yeah I guess.

Charlie smiled and thanked him, she opened a portal to the front of the manor.

Adam: ..... Why is this place so fucking big?

Lucifer groaned and pulled the blanket up to his face, the curtains in his room were drawn but there was a sliver of light making it in. He doesn't remember when he left his bed last.

Maybe he could have a nap, he was just so tired.

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cheynovak · 19 hours ago

Text

Her soldier - part 2/3

Ben (Soldier boy) x Y/N F/Reader

Summary: 1940s setting, Teenage Ben is head over heels with the 5 year older Y/N. His dad didn't like women like Y/N hard working without a ring on her finger and a free spirit. In his free time he starts helping her out, but will she keep seeing him as a cute kid or will time bring other feelings in the mix?

Warnings: 18+ MDNI!, Slowburn, Implied Spice, talk of virginity, Losing virginity, age gab, Violence, Smoking, Dead, Memoryloss ...

Absolutely. Here’s the next chapter in Ben and Y/N’s slowburn story, set against the backdrop of wartime 1940s:

Winter, 1945 – Philadelphia

The snow had begun to fall just days before Christmas, laying a quiet hush over the city. The streets outside her bar were lined with wreaths and lanterns, glowing soft and golden against the icy wind. Inside, Y/N had set out pine branches along the shelves, hung a single string of tinsel along the mirror behind the bar. It wasn’t much—but it was enough to make it feel like home.

And she waited.

Ben had written, saying he’d be home for a few days—just before shipping off again. His letters were always scribbled in messy ink, filled with half-crossed words and smudges like his hand couldn’t keep up with his thoughts. In the last one, he mentioned a man named Dr. Voughtbaum—though she thought he might’ve misspelled it—and something about "a program." “Special training,” he called it. “Selective, intense. Just for a few of us.”

She could almost hear his voice in the letter. Joking that he was going to come back “strong enough to carry the whole damn bar.” She’d laughed, brushing her fingers over the dried paper, kissing the bottom where he’d signed his name.

Your Soldier.

They had agreed not to marry yet. Ben wanted to do things right—save a little more, come back for good with something to give her. “You deserve a real wedding,” he told her the night before he left the first time, fingers brushing hers over a shared blanket. “Not one squeezed between goodbyes.”

And now, Christmas Eve, she was behind the bar—empty but for a few late drinkers and John, her loyal customer who happened to be a soldier once upon a time. The radio played old carols, soft and low. Snow tapped at the windows.

Then the door creaked open.

Y/N looked up automatically, expecting another regular, maybe one of the neighborhood boys on leave.

But the man who stepped in made her go still.

He was tall. Taller than she remembered. Broad in the shoulders, filled out like a man carved out of marble, wrapped in a thick military-issue coat that clung to his form. Hair darker, slicked back now, and his jaw sharper. Eyes the same—green, and unmistakable.

But it wasn’t the body that stunned her. It was the presence. Like the air changed when he entered the room. Like every eye in the bar turned without knowing why.

“Ben?” she whispered.

He smiled, a little lopsided, like he wasn’t used to how it felt on his new face. “Hey, sweetheart.”

Y/N stepped out from behind the bar without realizing it, staring. “What… what happened to you?”

He laughed under his breath, crossing the room in long, confident strides. “Guess I forgot to mention a few details.”

“You forgot to mention that you look like… a different man.”

He stopped in front of her, glancing down at himself. “The doc said the project would ‘enhance natural potential.’ Said I had the right genetics, whatever that means. Stronger, faster. Better reflexes. Hell, I barely need to sleep now.”

She touched his coat, her hand trailing up his chest slowly, as if to confirm he was real. “You weren’t kidding about carrying the bar, huh?”

He grinned. “Told you.”

Y/N looked up at him, her heart twisting somewhere between awe and confusion. “Ben… you’re still you, right?”

He hesitated, and for just a second, she saw the same boy she used to know—the one who used to carry boxes and ask for a raise he didn’t really want.

“I think so,” he said. “Still yours, if you’ll have me.”

She smiled softly, her hand now cupping the side of his face. “Always.”

Ben leaned forward, kissing her gently—no hunger this time, no storm. Just warmth. Home. A promise exchanged beneath the Christmas lights.

“I’ve only got three days,” he murmured against her lips.

“Then you better come help setting the tree,” she said, tugging his hand. “You look like a superhero now, but you still don’t get to skip chores. Besides it's too heavy for me. And John was no help.” She winked at her very old but very loyal customer.

John nodded to Ben. "Good to see you kid, or should I salute now?"

He laughed "You? Never John." , letting her lead him. And in the quiet that followed, as snow fell gently outside and laughter echoed inside the bar, neither of them spoke the fear buried beneath the surface.

That in this war—this world—three days might be all they get.

The few days they had slipped by in a blur—like snowflakes against warm skin. Ben hadn’t let go of her once, not really. If they weren’t tangled together in bed, they were in the kitchen, Y/N fussing over food while he stole touches at her waist, kisses to her neck. Every moment was precious. Every second felt like it had to last a lifetime.

On the third night, it had begun to snow again. Y/N had taken a late shower, hoping the steam would wash away the quiet ache of knowing what tomorrow would bring. She towel-dried her hair, wrapped herself in one of the old cotton towels, and stepped into the dim hallway, barefoot and warm-skinned from the heat of the water.

She didn’t get far.

Ben was waiting for her just outside the bedroom, shirtless, a towel slung around his own hips. His hair was damp, and his eyes—those same deep green eyes—moved over her like he was trying to memorize the shape of her. Like if he stared hard enough, he could take her with him.

“Ben…” she started, but he didn’t let her finish.

He crossed the short distance between them in one stride, lifted her effortlessly into his arms. She gave a startled gasp, arms going around his shoulders, towel clutched between them. Then her back hit the cool wall, and his mouth was on her throat—warm, open kisses against skin still dewy from the shower.

“You’re not real,” he murmured against her jaw. “You can’t be.”

She laughed softly, her fingers threading through his still-damp hair. “Tell that to my sore legs.”

He grinned at that, tilting his head back to look at her, eyes gleaming. “I just want to make the most of every second.”

“You already are,” she whispered, leaning in to kiss him, slow and deep, her body relaxing against his as the kiss deepened.

His hands roamed gently, reverent more than greedy. Her towel was soft beneath his fingers, but he wasn’t in a rush. The way he touched her, held her—it was worship. It was want and wonder wrapped in silk. She felt herself melt into him, the wall at her back, the weight of his body grounding her as the world outside faded.

Rain. Snow. War. It all faded.

Tomorrow he would leave again.

But tonight, he was hers.

“Tell me what you want,” Ben murmured between kisses, his voice a low breath against her lips, hands still steady on her hips.

Y/N’s eyes fluttered open. Her fingers traced along his jawline, still damp from the shower, still warm from the closeness between them. “Honestly?” she asked.

He pulled back just enough to look her in the eye. “Yes.”

She inhaled deeply, brushing hair from her face. “I want to talk to you. Before you go.”

Ben froze. The breath in his chest caught like it didn’t know how to move. It was like something tightened inside him—not from rejection, but from fear.

“Y-you still want to marry me… don’t you?” he asked, eyes searching hers in the low light. Y/N blinked, surprised by the crack in his voice. “Of course I do.”

He stared at her like he wasn’t sure if he should believe it.

“I meant,” she continued, pulling him gently down so their foreheads met, “I want to hear your stories. All of them. Not the ones you put in letters. The real ones.”

Ben’s body tensed, jaw tightening. “The real ones aren’t pretty.”

“I don’t need pretty, Ben. I need you. All of you. No matter what they turn you into, or how strong you get, I want to hear it."

He exhaled like it was the first real breath he’d taken since arriving.

Ben pulled her back into bed with him that night, not for passion, but for closeness—for comfort. The room was dark save for the dull glow of the streetlight filtering through the blinds. Their bare skin still held the warmth of shared love, but now they clung to each other for a different reason.

He held her like the world might steal her away, and finally, he spoke.

“The program wasn’t what I thought,” he whispered against her hair. “It wasn’t just training. They… they changed me. Gave me something. Doc called it a ‘serum.’ Said it would make me the ideal soldier. Stronger, faster, harder to kill.”

Y/N’s head lifted slightly from his chest, concern drawing a line between her brows. “Is that why they call you—”

“Soldier Boy,” he finished for her, almost bitterly. “Yeah. I didn’t ask for the name. They’re making posters already, radio ads. They want a hero, not a man. I feel like a freaking kind again... boy. ”

She swallowed, stroking his chest where his heart beat steady beneath her fingers.

“I didn’t want to tell you tonight,” he said quietly. “But I couldn’t lie to you.”

“I don’t want you to go,” she admitted, voice small. “But I’d never ask you not to.”

He held her tighter.

They didn’t sleep much that night. They lay together in the hush between heartbeats and goodbyes, her hand in his hair, his breath warm on her shoulder. Sometimes he’d speak softly about what the scientists did, about how different his body felt, about the things he saw in training. Other times, he was just quiet. And she let him be.

By morning, the sky had gone grey with soft snow. They had left to open het bar.

Ben was dressed in his uniform, fingers brushing down the buttons like he wasn’t quite used to them yet. Y/N stood behind the bar, watching him, already missing him.

“You promised to help with the heavy lifting, you better get back soon.” she teased gently, folding her arms. He grinned, pulling on his coat. “I don’t break promises.”

She walked around the bar and straight into his arms. He kissed her long and deep—memorizing her, tasting every second. Just as they were breaking apart, the door opened.

John stood there—older, weary-eyed, wearing his old army uniform like it was stitched into his skin. He looked between them, nodded slowly.

“Got word you were shippin’ out, Sir.” John said.

John stood tall, spine stiff despite the years. He raised his hand in salute. “Bring our boys home, Sir.”

Ben returned the salute with clean precision. “I will.”

John stepped aside, letting the door fall open to the snowy street. Ben turned back to Y/N one last time. His hand brushed her cheek, lingering there, thumb tracing the edge of her lip.

“I’ll come back,” he said. “And when I do… we’re getting married. No waiting this time.”

Y/N blinked fast, her lips parting in a breathless smile. “You better.”

Then he kissed her—quick and firm—and walked out into the snow.

8 months later

The train pulled into Philadelphia, the snow melting into slush on the tracks. Ben barely felt the weight of his bag slung over one shoulder—he was practically vibrating with the thought of her. Y/N. Her voice. Her laugh. Her hands in his hair. Ten long months. Ten long months of dirt, blood, and silence, and all that kept him going were the folded letters in his chest pocket. She’d said she’d wait. And she always kept her word.

He didn’t go home. He went straight to the bar.

The bell above the door chimed like a ghost of the past. But instead of warmth, laughter, and the familiar voice that haunted his dreams, the place was cold. Dim. Still.

Ben stopped in the doorway, eyes scanning the space like it couldn’t possibly be right.

There was a man behind the bar. Older, heavyset, and unfamiliar. Cleaning glasses in the low light.

At the far table, John sat hunched in his usual spot, his weathered hands wrapped around a chipped coffee mug.

Ben approached the bar with measured steps, his voice hoarse from the train and the sudden dryness in his throat.

“Where’s Y/N?”

The man behind the counter looked up. Confused. “Y/N?”

“Yes,” Ben said, sharper now. “The woman who owns this bar.”

The man shook his head slowly. “Sorry, kid. I’ve been running this place a little over two months now. Didn’t get no name like that passed down to me.”

Ben’s stomach dropped. His breath caught like a punch in the chest.

He turned toward John, whose head had slowly lifted. The old man stood, stiff, and brought his hand to his temple in a shaky salute.

“I’m sorry, sir,” John whispered, voice lined with years. His eyes, always sharp and dry, shimmered. Ben stared at him, the room tilting slightly.

“She…” John began, clearing his throat. “She was happy, last time I saw her. Glowing. She was expecting, you know.”

Ben’s lips parted, blood draining from his face. “Expecting… as in…”

“Yes.” John didn’t let him finish. “Six months along, I reckon. Strong, too. Kept carrying those crates like she always did. But one day... She was hauling a barrel—too much for one person. I heard her cry out. Pain."

"She collapsed.”

Ben felt the ground go out from under him.

“I ran, carried her to the hospital. I swear to you, sir, I ran like I was twenty again. But…” John's voice cracked. “There was nothing they could do. Internal bleeding, they said. Something about the child being to strong for her. I don't know what it means... She didn’t even get to say goodbye.”

Ben couldn’t breathe. His hands clenched at his sides. The room spun, spinning, until all he could see was her smile, her hair sticking to her face in the rain, her whisper against his chest: “I promise I’ll be here.”

“No,” Ben growled, stepping back. “No, you’re wrong. She promised. She—she promised me.”

John didn’t say a word. Just watched as Ben stumbled back from the bar, hand against the doorframe.

It felt like the world cracked in half.

His heart thundering in his ears. “No,” he muttered, shaking his head like he could reverse the words. “No, you’re wrong. She promised me. She promised she’d wait.”

John’s voice cracked. “She did.”

Ben’s jaw clenched. The veins in his neck stood out as his breathing grew shallow. “She was pregnant. You’re telling me she was carrying my child and she didn’t say a goddamn word?!”

“She wanted to tell you, son,” John said gently, his eyes brimming. “Had a letter written out." John handed Ben the crumpled letter. "Said she didn’t want to burden you while you were fightin’ overseas. She was gonna wait until you came back. Wanted to see the look on your face.”

Ben took two shaking steps backward, then suddenly slammed his fist into the wall beside the doorway. Wood cracked and splintered under the force. The whole bar went silent.

“She should’ve told me!” he shouted, eyes blazing, voice hoarse with the kind of hurt that goes down to the bone. “I would’ve come back. I would’ve dropped everything, John! I would’ve been there!”

John didn’t flinch. Just looked at him with heavy sorrow. “I know. She knew too.”

Ben’s breathing grew heavier. His knuckles dripped blood from where they’d torn against the plaster and wood, but he didn’t care. He leaned forward, bracing his arms against the cracked wall, chest heaving.

“I left her,” he whispered. “I left her to die… alone.”

“You didn’t know—”

“I should’ve known!” he roared. “I felt it! Every goddamn night I was over there I felt like something was off, and I—I told myself it was just the war. Just the distance. But she needed me and I wasn’t here.”

John moved slowly toward him, laying a weathered hand on his shoulder.

“I buried her myself,” he said quietly. “Didn’t trust no strangers to do it right. She’s in the old cemetery. Took me days to find a stone I thought she’d like.”

Ben stared forward, eyes burning. “And the baby?”

John swallowed hard. “Buried them together.”

Silence fell, heavy and thick. The only sound was the wind brushing past the front windows and Ben’s broken breathing.

Then Ben pulled away, bloodied hand dragging down his face.

“I’m not a soldier,” he muttered. “I’m a coward. That serum didn’t make me strong. Just made it easier to run.” He turned toward the door, barely able to see through the tears blurring his vision.

“Where are you going?” John asked.

“To see her,” Ben whispered. “To tell her I’m sorry.”

1975 – Vought Museum of American Heroism

The crowd buzzed with excitement, flashes snapping from every angle. Soldier Boy stood tall in front of his own likeness, thirty years of curated greatness on display, but his mind wasn’t there. It never really was, not anymore.

He had his arm slung lazily around Crimson Countess, half-smirking, half-dead behind the eyes. The serum high throbbed dully in his veins, taking the edge off just enough to keep him upright. She leaned in to whisper, sugar-sweet and sharp: "Try to look like you're enjoying this, babe."

But he barely heard her. Something… someone had caught his eye.

Across the room, framed by one of the high arching windows, stood a woman.

Not just any woman.

She hadn’t aged. Or barely had. A decade maybe, not four. The world around her looked older, harsher, faded by time. But she didn’t.

His chest squeezed like a vice.

It couldn’t be.

But it was.

The angle of her shoulders. The curve of her mouth. The way her hand reached to gently touch the edge of a photo on the wall.

“Y/N,” he whispered.

Before he could move, Crimson Countess tugged on his arm, pulling his attention toward the cameras. "Come on, they're waiting for the speech."

When he turned back, she was gone.

After the speeches and more forced smiles, Ben pushed past handlers and fans, searching the museum like a man possessed. Room by room, exhibit by exhibit, until—

A door. Slightly ajar. Marked PRIVATE – STAFF ONLY.

He didn’t hesitate.

He stepped inside.

The room was quiet. Dim. A private stock, it seemed—less glitz. On the far wall, a large oil painting hung: A powerful man seated on a throne-like chair. A woman at his side, her hand on his. A baby held gently in her lap.

And there—standing in front of it, motionless—was her.

Ben swallowed hard. “Y/N?” His voice cracked in the silence.

She turned slowly.

Her eyes filled with tears the moment she saw him. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, breathless. “I know I shouldn’t be here…” He took a step closer, every instinct screaming to grab her, to hold her, to not let go again. "Y/N, It's really you."

But when she looked up at him—truly looked—her expression shifted. Blank. Unfamiliar.

She didn’t know him.

“I… D-Do I know you, sir?” she asked gently, her voice trembling, eyes confused.

Ben froze, the world tilting beneath him. “It’s me,” he said, barely above a whisper. “Ben.”

She flinched at the name like it meant nothing. “I’m sorry, Soldier Boy… sir,” she added quickly. “I think you have the wrong person.”

Then she turned and walked away, her dress brushing past him like a memory he couldn’t hold on to.

Ben stood there, alone in the quiet room, staring at the portrait.

A king. His queen. And their child.

Ben didn’t think—he reacted.

His boots echoed across the polished marble floor as he chased after her. "Y/N—wait!"

She moved faster, head ducked, avoiding stares as she tried to slip through the side hallway, but he caught her just before she reached the exit. His hand gripped her arm—not hard, but enough to make her freeze.

She yelped, spinning around. “Let go of me!”

“Please,” Ben breathed, staring into her face. “Just… just look at me.”

“I have!” she snapped, cheeks flushing with frustration and something deeper. “And I told you—I don’t know who you are.”

Ben’s chest heaved. His voice cracked under the weight of the years, the pain, the confusion. “Think, Y/N. Just try. Do you remember anything? Anything at all?”

Her mouth opened, ready to retort, but no words came.

Something flickered in her eyes. She staggered a half step back. “I…” she began, voice suddenly small. “I don’t… I don’t know anything.”

Ben softened, letting her go, but didn’t step back.

“I woke up,” she said slowly, swallowing hard, “in a room. Cold as death. Fluorescent lights. Metal walls. Like a hospital, but not one I’ve ever seen.” Her hands shook now. “I was alone. No windows. No calendar. Nothing. Just voices behind glass asking me questions. For weeks.”

Ben’s fists clenched.

“They said I was sick. That they were helping me.” She shook her head, ashamed. “But I don’t remember getting sick. I don’t remember anything. I don’t even know how old I am.”

Ben was silent, staring, heart pounding against his ribs like it wanted out.

He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small, time-worn photo. Faded, edges curled. Her. Behind the bar, a glass in her hand, laughing at something just out of frame.

He handed it to her, hands trembling.

Y/N looked down at it. Blinked. Then again. Her fingers touched the surface.

“…This is me,” she whispered.

“Yes,” Ben said softly. “That’s you. You were everything. My home. My future.”

She looked back up, tears in her eyes, voice shaking. “What happened to me?”

Ben’s jaw clenched.

Crimson Countess' heels clicked sharply against the floor, echoing like a warning shot.

Ben turned just as she came into view, arms crossed tight over her chest, her face unreadable but eyes narrowed with suspicion. “There you are,” she said coolly. “Everyone’s looking for you.”

She spotted Y/N behind him, her eyes flicking between the two.

He looked stricken, unsure, caught between two lives that had never been meant to intersect again.

Then she gently took his hand—the one holding the old photo—and flipped it over. With careful handwriting, she wrote an address on the back.

“Come find me. When you’re alone,” she said softly. “Please.”

Ben nodded, silent, eyes never leaving hers as Crimson rolled her eyes behind him. “This some old girlfriend you forgot to tell me about, hero?”

Ben didn’t answer. He watched Y/N slip through a staff door and vanish into the quiet.

Days Later

Ben stood outside a modest brownstone in a quiet part of the city, nerves buzzing under his skin like static. The photo was folded in his pocket, now softened by years and something new—hope.

He visited the next day.

Then the next.

And again.

They started with coffee. Then tea. Then shared silence, soft smiles. She always had something playing on the radio, something slow and old—like the music never changed for her.

Over time, they fell into a rhythm.

She made lunch.

He helped fix the loose tiles on her kitchen floor.

She asked about the war.

He told her everything—almost.

He told her about the program. About the injections. About Dr. Vought, and the way his bones felt like they were made of steel now. How strong he became. How fast. How empty.

But not the baby.

He couldn’t tell her that. She wasn’t ready to hear that story. He wasn’t ready to tell her.

Instead, he told her about her old bar. About the jukebox she used to kick when it jammed. About how she used to call him “her soldier.” How she’d laugh, always with that same soft crease by her right eye.

Sometimes, she'd blink slowly like she could almost remember. Almost feel it.

She never asked why he looked at her the way he did. Maybe she already knew. Maybe she felt it too.

But Ben waited. Like he had before. She will fall for him again he just knew it.

He stood on her stoop just as the sun sank behind the city skyline, casting everything in gold and rose.

A bundle of flowers in his hand—lilies and wild roses, the kind she used to keep behind the bar in an old mason jar. She never remembered it, but he did.

She opened the door in her robe, her hair pinned loosely and her cheeks pink from the warm bath.

“It’s your birthday,” he said simply.

Her brows knit. “I… I didn’t know.”

“You never celebrated it. Even back then,” he said softly, smiling like it hurt. “So we’re changing that tonight. Put on something fancy.”

Her eyes narrowed with a smile. “Like what?”

“Something red,” he said. “You used to look real good in red.”

She came down twenty minutes later in a deep crimson dress that hugged her just right. Her hair curled and pinned like she’d stepped out of a dream—his dream.

He forgot how to speak for a second. She tilted her head at him.

“What?” she asked, playful but uncertain.

Ben offered her his arm. “You’re gonna ruin me.”

He had requested a quiet table in the back of one of the few places left that didn’t have blaring TVs or flashing lights. Just candlelight and soft music. A little old-world charm.

They sat close.

Y/N’s eyes sparkled under the low light.

But the peace didn’t last.

People recognized him. Whispered. One brave fan walked up, and Ben smiled politely, signed the damn napkin, but his jaw was tight. The second time it happened, he flagged the waiter and growled something low—“Keep 'em away tonight.”

Y/N just smiled gently. “I don’t mind.”

But he did.

He wanted this night for her. For them. Not for Soldier Boy. Not for the world. And then he heard it. Two men at a nearby table, voices hushed but not nearly enough.

“…Crimson Countess waiting at home and he’s out with her?”

“Scandalous. Look at her—dressed so cheap.”

Ben’s fist curled under the table, white-knuckled. Y/N heard them too.

She didn’t flinch. But her hand slid gently over his. He looked at her. Softly, like she was something breakable. Sacred. “I don’t care what they think,” she said. “Only what you think.”

That calmed him. Barely.

But the look in his eyes when he watched her across the candlelit table, the way his thumb traced the inside of her wrist when the waiter brought dessert—that told her something.

Ben’s hand drifted from the stem of his wine glass to hers, brushing her fingers with the callused pads of his thumb. He hadn’t meant to look, not really. But he saw it.

That small, simple golden ring on her right hand.

It wasn’t flashy. Not the kind people noticed. But he did.

He always did.

His smile was slow and sad. Bittersweet.

“You still wear it,” he murmured, voice barely more than breath.

Y/N blinked, confused for a second, until he gently lifted her hand closer to the candlelight. The gold caught the flame’s glow. He turned the ring slowly between his fingers like it was something sacred.

“This,” he said, voice a little tighter now. She looked at him then, something flickering in her expression—like a shadow in a mirror, a glimpse of a half-remembered dream.

“I gave you this,” Ben said, soft, not as a question.

And her breath caught.

For a moment—just one flicker—her memory slipped. A vision like lightning behind her eyes. A man on one knee. Her hands trembling. That very same ring, small and warm, nestled in a palm rough from labor, held out with more love than she ever thought she’d deserve.

She gasped and pulled her hand back suddenly, like the ring had burned her.

“Y/N?” Ben asked, straightening in his seat.

Her face had drained of color. She stared at the ring, heart racing, lips parted as if she were still caught in that memory. It had felt so real. Ben leaned forward, concern painted in every line of his face. “Hey… what's wrong?”

She shook her head slowly, but her voice cracked. “I saw something. Just now.”

“What did you see?”

“I—” She looked at him, truly looked at him. Her eyes glossy, pupils wide. “You were younger. You… knelt. You were asking me to… to marry you.”

Ben froze.

His chair scraped as he stood slowly, walking around to kneel next to her. “You remember,” he whispered, trying not to let too much hope bleed into it.

“I don’t know,” she said, tears on the edge. “It came and went so fast.” He took her hand again, this time not for the ring—but to steady her. And maybe steady himself.

“I meant it back then,” he said. “I still do.”

Y/N’s voice trembled as she spoke, the ring still cold between her fingers. “This is all… too fast.” Ben stilled beside her, shoulders tensing.

“I believe you,” she said, quieter now. “I believe we knew each other. That we meant something to each other. But—”

She turned to him, eyes brimming with emotion and something she didn’t have a name for yet. “I don’t know what I felt for you back then, Ben. I don’t even know who I was.”

He wanted to speak. Say something to anchor her. But she kept going.

“You are kind. You’ve helped me a lot these past few weeks. And I—I care about you. I do. But all this?” She held up her hand with the ring. “You’re telling me we were engaged. That we were in love.” Her voice cracked on that last word, and she swallowed it back. “You’ve had years to hold onto that. I haven’t.”

Ben sat back slowly in his chair. He didn’t look away. He couldn’t. “You’re right,” he said finally, quietly. “You’re right, and I’m sorry.” She looked startled—maybe expecting a protest. A plea.

“I didn’t mean to throw it at you like that,” Ben said, running a hand through his hair, his voice hoarse. “You deserve the time to feel it. To remember. Not just because I tell you it happened.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” she whispered.

He gave a bitter laugh and rubbed the heel of his palm against his chest like something there ached. “A little too late for that, sweetheart.”

Silence fell between them again.

Then, gently, he reached out and touched her hand to make her stand, "Let me take you home." She could hear the pain in his voice.

Ben stood with her outside her house, the quiet hum of the city dim behind them, the night pressing close around the two of them. He kept his distance, hands in his coat pockets, jaw tight from holding in too much.

She turned toward him at the door, hesitating. Her heart was tugging in too many directions—confusion, guilt, curiosity—but one thing was clear: seeing the look in his eyes earlier tonight, the hurt he tried so hard to hide, that broke something in her.

Without thinking, her hand lifted to cup his cheek.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Before he could respond, she leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to the other side of his face. Her lips lingered for just a second longer than polite. That was when she remembered the scent, a blend of musk with oranges and a sweet touch of lavender and grapefruit.

Their faces hovered close. Breath mingled. His green eyes searched hers, hesitating—waiting. He didn’t move, but she saw his glance flicker down to her mouth.

It was like the very first time they stood at her front door. On instinct she leaned in. A barely brush of lips. Gentle. Tentative. Her eyes closed, like she was afraid to see what she’d done—but then—

Flash.

A memory. Sharp and sudden. Her fingers in his hair. The scent of rain. A hand pressed to her cheek. The heat of a kiss that had stolen her breath in another lifetime.

She gasped softly, her lips still brushing his. Eyes flew open, meeting his again. Ben's breath hitched, sensing something shift.

“Y/N?” he asked, voice low, urgent.

She stared at him, dazed. “I remember,” she whispered. “The rain… you kissed me in the rain. I—” Her hand found the center of his chest. “You kissed my fingers. And my palm. I—God, I felt that.”

Ben’s heart thundered. “You ran after me, in the rain." she said, like reciting a dream aloud. “And I... I kissed you.” A smile broke across Ben’s face, disbelieving.

“I remember... us.” she said, voice cracking. “Pieces of it. I don’t understand all of it, but... I think I loved you.” Ben closed the space between them again, pressing his forehead to hers.

She didn’t pull away.

She stayed close, hand still on his chest, like it might keep the pieces from falling apart again.

And this time, when he kissed her, it wasn’t about the past or what might come next. It was about now.

Ben paused at the threshold of her apartment, glancing back one last time at the quiet street behind him. The cold of the night still clung to his coat, but her touch—her kiss—lingered warmer than any fire.

“Let’s not rush,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

She nodded, her expression soft, unreadable. But just as he turned to leave, her hand reached out, wrapping around his wrist.

“Stay,” she pleaded, barely louder than breath.

He froze. Turned to look at her.

There wasn’t hunger in her eyes, not the kind he was used to. Not lust. This was something deeper—curiosity, comfort... maybe even trust. He said nothing, just gave a small nod and followed her inside.

She didn’t reach for him again. She didn’t need to.

The room was dim, shadows stretched long across the wooden floor. She moved wordlessly, kneeling near the old fireplace across from the bed. Ben watched her from where he stood near the door, his fingers twitching slightly, unsure what to do with himself.

Flames sparked to life, golden and soft, casting her in amber light. She looked up at him over her shoulder.

“Make yourself comfortable,” she said gently.

Still hesitant, Ben walked to the bed and sat back against the headboard, legs stretched out in front of him, arms folded loosely. He didn’t take off his coat, not yet—like he wasn’t quite convinced this was real.

She disappeared into the small bathroom. The sound of running water echoed faintly, the creak of pipes familiar and oddly calming.

Ben looked around the room. It was so her. Simple, worn in, with little things that made it home: a half-burned candle on the nightstand, a book turned over to mark the page, a blanket folded at the foot of the bed.

He rubbed his palms together, the heat from the fire slowly thawing the chill in his bones.

Then, the bathroom door opened. She stepped out, wrapped in a long knit sweater, the sleeves covering her hands. No makeup. No glamour. Just her.

And she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. He didn’t move. He didn’t want to spook the moment.

A breath of a laugh slipped from her lips, light and teasing. “You planning on wearing that coat the entire evening, soldier?”

Her voice carried warmth, but that word—evening—landed differently. Ben caught it. Evening. Not night.

Not stay.

He blinked once, lips parting like he was going to say something, but didn't. Just nodded a little, letting the weight of the coat finally fall from his shoulders as he shrugged it off and draped it over the foot of the bed.

She didn’t say anything more. Instead, she moved to the opposite side and slowly climbed into bed, pulling the blanket around her like she’d done it a hundred times. Like it wasn’t something strange or new. She turned her back to him, her face toward the fire, quiet again.

After a few moments, she looked over her shoulder. “You don’t have to stay on the edge.”

He swallowed, then shifted closer. Sat beside her. She reached back and took his hand, guiding it around her waist. He followed. Carefully. Reverently.

No rush. No assumptions.

Just warmth.

Ben’s breath evened out behind her, warm against the nape of her neck. His hand, resting gently on her waist, moved without thought—an instinct older than memory. His thumb brushed lazy circles into her side, a soft comfort.

It felt like home.

And maybe he hadn’t realized how much he missed that feeling—until now.

His hand shifted slightly, drifting upward with the slow rhythm of his breath. When his thumb skimmed the edge of her breast, it wasn’t on purpose. Just a part of being too close. But she stilled for a moment. Not in protest—more like surprise.

Then, she exhaled. A soft, deep sound—like something inside her let go.

She didn’t move away.

Instead, she leaned back into him, her body seeking more of his warmth. His presence. The strength of him surrounding her like a shield against the cold of everything else. Against the ache she didn’t realize had been lingering, hidden just beneath the surface.

Ben didn’t push. Didn’t speak.

He just held her.

His thumb stayed still now, resting lightly, not venturing further. His lips brushed the back of her shoulder, not a kiss, just the weight of him grounding her in the present. She closed her eyes, letting the rhythm of the fire and his breathing lull her into stillness.

She didn't say anything, but the way her hand found his and held it tighter—fingers threading like a silent thank you—said enough.

Ben lay still, hardly breathing, as if moving too much might shatter the fragile stillness of the morning. The fire had dimmed to a faint amber glow, soft shadows flickering across the walls. The room smelled of smoke, and her—sweet and warm, like something you only find once and never again.

Her fingers still curled around his, cradled against her cheek as she slept. In the quiet, he let his eyes wander—her lips barely parted, her lashes casting delicate shadows. She looked so peaceful, so small curled up against him, tucked under the covers like a secret kept safe.

His arm, pinned across her chest, rose and fell with her breath. She was pressed close enough that he could feel her heartbeat thrum soft and steady beneath his skin. And without thinking, without needing to, he leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to the curve of her neck.

“So beautiful,” he whispered, barely audible, a thought spoken into the hush between them.

She shifted slightly, a small sigh escaping her as she stirred. Then she turned, slow and instinctive, nestling into him. Her face found his chest, cheek resting over his heart like it belonged there. Her hand slid lower, still holding his.

Ben stared at the ceiling for a moment, overwhelmed by the quiet intimacy of it all. No fire. No war. No fans. No past between them.

Just her. Just now.

He closed his eyes, pulling her just a little closer, careful not to wake her.

Ben had drifted back to sleep, his breath deep and steady, lips slightly parted. Y/N lay beside him, eyes wide open, tracing the rise and fall of his chest under the thin cotton of his shirt. Something about the early light filtering through the curtains made everything feel surreal—like waking in a memory that hadn’t quite ended.

Her fingers moved on their own. Tentative. Curious. They slipped under the fabric, brushing against the warmth of his skin. The boy in her dreams had been smaller, less solid. But this? This was new to her, or was it?

She let her hand trail lower, resting briefly at the band of his pants before—

"I'm not responsible for what happens if you keep going," Ben murmured, voice thick with sleep and something else. A sly smile tugged at his lips, eyes still closed.

Y/N nearly jumped, pulling her hand back, her cheeks burning—but he rolled over, gently grabbing her wrist to keep her from going too far.

"But please," he whispered against her ear, breath warm. "Do continue."

She let out a laugh—half nerves, half flustered delight—but when she glanced down and caught sight of him fully awake now in more ways than one, her face went crimson.

"Ben!" she scolded, pulling the covers around herself as she quickly sat up, trying to hide her smile. He laughed, stretching, arms behind his head like he hadn’t just turned her insides into fluttering chaos. "What? Just being honest."

She shook her head, getting out of bed to find her robe. "You are trouble," she mumbled, still blushing.

"And you," he said, sitting up and watching her with that smirk that had gotten him out of more trouble than she'd ever admit, "are still the only one I ever wanted to be trouble for."

Her heart ached a little at that. But in the best way.

The scent of coffee filled the small apartment, warm and grounding. Y/N had made toast, scrambled eggs, and sliced up some fruit, setting everything between them as they sat close at the small kitchen table, legs brushing occasionally under the wood.

Ben looked… content. Messy-haired and bare-footed, his shirt a little wrinkled, sleeves pushed up to his elbows. He was about to say something—some joke, probably—when she reached for the remote and turned on the TV.

Her smile faded almost instantly.

The screen showed grainy, stylized footage: “The Legend of Soldier Boy: America’s First Superhero.” Then came a segment on his “epic romance” with Crimson Countess. The narrator's voice, smooth and dramatic, spoke of a "passionate, high-profile love that captivated the nation."

Ben winced the moment her name was mentioned, chewing slower.

Y/N didn’t look at him at first. She just stared at the TV, spooning yogurt without really tasting it.

Then quietly, "Do you love her?"

He didn’t answer right away. That silence was louder than the documentary.

She finally met his eyes.

He exhaled, long and low. "Not the way I love you."

Her breath caught. Her chest rose and fell too fast. But then—

"But you did?"

His gaze dropped to his plate. "Yeah," he admitted, voice flat. "I did. Or... I thought I did. It was complicated. I needed someone—anyone—to fill a space that shouldn't have been empty."

Y/N looked down, her fingers tightening around her coffee mug.

"But it wasn’t you," he said quietly, almost desperate. "It was never really about her. It was me trying to forget you. She didn’t even come close."

She stayed silent, not sure what hurt more—the fact that he loved someone else or the idea that she had unknowingly been haunting his every step. A ghost in a heart that never got the chance to say goodbye.

Ben reached across the table, his hand gently covering hers.

"Please," he whispered, "don’t look at me like that. Like I don’t know the difference now."

Y/N blinked hard. The documentary still played behind them, but it felt like another lifetime.

She slowly pulled her hand back—not rejecting, just needing space—and stood up, walking over to the window.

"You weren’t the only one who had to fill an empty space, Ben," she said without looking back. "I just didn’t have the luxury of needing someone, I was trying to remember who I was "

Ben watched her back as she stood by the window, arms folded, spine stiff. The sunlight touched her like it knew her better than he did. And maybe now, it did.

He stepped closer. “So… what you're telling me is… there was no one else?” he asked, voice rough.

Y/N didn’t answer. Her silence said more than words.

Ben blinked. “You must’ve had someone,” he said, less certain this time. “Some relationships… in all those years?”

Still nothing. Just the hum of the TV in the background and the quiet tick of the clock on the wall.

“Come on,” he pressed, eyes narrowing as confusion laced his voice, “I was gone, you didn’t remember me, and you were you—someone must’ve—”

She turned slightly, enough that he could see her profile.

“No one,” she said finally. Calm. Too calm.

Ben swallowed hard. His stomach dropped like a stone.

She turned her eyes toward him now. There was no anger. Just the weight of time, and something like quiet sadness. “What happens next?” she asked. “Are you staying?”

He shifted, caught off guard. “It’s not that easy,” he admitted. “There’s Vought. The PR. They’ve built a whole thing around me and… Countess. Having mistresses was easier to sell than a breakup. I was told to play along.”

Y/N’s jaw tensed. She nodded once, backing up. “Okay,” she said quietly, brushing past him.

Ben turned, following her. “Wait—what? That’s it?” She walked toward the hallway. He quickened his steps, the frustration bubbling up. “Why are you so upset?”

She didn’t answer. She kept moving.

“Y/N,” he said, desperate now. “You never told me you wanted me back. You said you needed time.”

She reached the bathroom door, turning halfway to face him, eyes unreadable.

“I do,” she said, voice cracking just slightly. “I did. But you… still belong to her, and what I feel has no impact what so ever on your life so just... leave me alone for a moment, please.”

Then she stepped inside and closed the door between them.

The soft click of the latch made his heart ache more than any battlefield ever had.

Ben waited. An hour. Maybe longer.

He stood outside the bathroom door, head bowed, listening to the quiet except for the soft, stifled sounds of her crying on the other side. Every second stretched like it was trying to pull him apart.

He touched the wood with his knuckles gently. “I’ll be back tomorrow,” he said low, the pain thick in his throat.

No answer.

No sound.

Just the quiet hum of heartbreak.

He left.

The mission with Crimson Countess was brutal. Not the fight—Ben handled that with the same brutal efficiency he always did—but the cameras, the lights, the performance. After they were declared victorious, the crowd roared. A flashbulb went off as Countess pulled him in and kissed him for the press.

The image hit the news cycle before the blood even dried.

What they didn’t show was Ben shoving her off, jaw clenched like steel. The camera shattered under the weight of his fist, the photographer scrambling away, clutching his ruined equipment.

Countess hissed, “What the hell is wrong with you?” Ben barely looked at her. “It’s over.”

“You can’t just say that,” she snapped, eyes wide with fury. “We’re a brand, Soldier Boy.”

“I’m not your prop,” he growled. “Screw your brand.” She screamed after him, threats laced in every word—but Ben was already walking away.

The next morning, Ben showed up at Y/N’s place early. A bouquet of flowers in one hand, hope clinging to the other. But something was wrong.

The door was slightly ajar. He stepped inside slowly. “Y/N?” No answer. The apartment was cold. Silent.

His heart dropped as he noticed the overturned chair, a shattered glass on the kitchen floor. A lamp broken near the couch. It looked like there had been a struggle.

“Y/N?” he said louder now, the panic rising.

Nothing.

Ben moved through the space like a soldier clearing a building. Every room empty. Her things gone or scattered.

He found the small golden ring she used to wear on the floor.

No note.

Just the terrible feeling that he’d been too late.

Again.

Taglist Jensen:

@jackles010378 @libby99hb @winchesterwild78 @suckitands33 @mostlymarvelgirl @deans-baby-momma @ancles @tulipsvanilla @thesilmarillionblog @jays-bonnie-on-the-side @kr804573 @kamisobsessed @hobby27 @globetrotter28 @kindollss @muhahaha303 @shadysoulangel @lyarr24 @spxideyver @impala67rollingthroughtown @panickedbitch @deansimpalababy @livya99 @yvonneeeee @ladykitana90 @stoneyggirl2 @imsiriuslyreal @panickedbitch @roseblue373 @n-o-p-e-never @ariasong11 @lmpala1967 @sherlockstrangewolf @spnaquakindgdom @writtenbyhollywood @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @healojane @star-yawnznn @cevansbaby-dove

#soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy #jensen fucking ackles #jensen ackles #jensenedit #the boys #ben x reader #ben x you #soldier boy x y/n #Her soldier fanfic

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timeslipcamp · 14 hours ago

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i always thought it was interesting that people point out the first anomaly that mc interacts with is the "snakes of hera" and focus on the bridal veil aspect of it. hera was a bride, that's for sure, her and zeus' wedding feast lasted 300 years according to some sources. but according to a lot more of the myths, she was an extremely reluctant bride, not to mention she was never really depicted with snakes.

rambles below the cut, spoilers if you haven't finished chapter one i guess lmao

hera is kind of the epitome of an unhappy bride whose union was forced on her, but she was also the goddess who oversaw marriage and fertility. so i can see where people keep looking into the bride thing. but i don't think the focus should be on the veil.

the only place in mythology we really see hera use snakes is when she sent them to kill heracles as an infant, someone her husband had sired out of wedlock. these snakes were sent out of revenge for a wrong being done to her.

i'm slowly getting the idea, especially after writing that post about the houses, that revenge might also become an important theme in this story. the first anomaly we encounter (other than another greek named one, the kyklos) is named after one of the most classic tales of anger and revenge.

the snakes protect the wearer, the bride, against those who would do her harm. hera would like that. anyone who threatened her marriage (and even her to some extent) she went after. if not directly, then by sending creatures to attack. (actually. literally as i typed that, mc never uses her powers directly to fight the anomalies. we're always sending the ghouls.) the snakes certainly tried to go after romeo. and then later, the snakes turned into a ring.

sure, bridal ring. i could see that, i guess, considering it's on the ring finger.

but this doesn't really give wedding ring vibes. the pentacle on the ring is the main reason why. typically, pentacles symbolize a complete balance of the elements, though it seems this ring gives us the ability to enhance the ghouls' stigmas.

there's been a few hints that some of the ghouls have issues with their stigmas being painful, and it doesn't seem like the process of gaining those abilities was any walk in the park. eating part of the demons soul? eurgh. not to mention most people don't survive making a pact. so i'm wondering if this ring is completing some part of the process that bridges the gap enough that it doesn't affect the human parts of them as much, and thereby strengthens them by giving the full gift, not just a taste of the power.

i've also seen the ring of solomon theory being thrown out, but that one is typically depicted as a six pointed star, not five like we have. i'm sticking by my pentacle theory, because you know what else that symbolizes???

damn chimi how come you got so many cycles in your symbolism

anyways i'm sticking with hera. i think the ring balances the power in the stigmas, represents the cycle we're in, and the combo of hera (protector of women during childbirth.) i'm not saying mc is pregnant, but she certainly is carrying something inside of her, huh :)

#tkdb #tokyo debunker #chimi rambles #theories #ring of solomon is still an interesting take i wont discount it completely #we love a good vengeance cycle

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fancyfeathers · 1 day ago

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Burn It All Down

(Yandere!Justice League & Yandere!Young Justice)

Based on Yandere!Justice League with their darling!children AU

Previous Chapter <- Chapter Fifteen, The Bird Song -> Next Chapter

This chapter is told from the perspective of Oliver Queen's Son!Reader

Each chapter will be from the perspective of the reader, but as the different children since when I originally had this concept, they were all darling/reader characters.

Songbird was back, safe and sound. It had been a week since her rescue. She was currently getting a check-up by a doctor provided by her sponsor, one of her old rich friends from back in Gotham. Honestly, without you, she would still be stuck back at Mount Justice, an unfortunate circumstance led to fortunate friends with you spotting her in Star City. You currently sit out on the balcony garden of the penthouse on one of those long porch swings, your feet dragging you back and forth. You were reading a book that your team’s magician, Hex, lent you: The Picture of Dorian Gray. You used to read quite a bit when you were younger, especially after what happened to your birth mother, what happened right in front of you, it helped take your mind off of things.

“Mind if I join you?” A feminine voice asked you from the doorway, you looked up to see the speedster girl they called Blitz. She was dressed in a pair of shorts and a tank top, most likely having woken up not too long ago. “Mr. Queen, right? Or um… what’s your code name again?”

“Apollo, and yes, please do, company sounds actually quite nice right now.” You smiled and scooted over for her to sit down next to you, but as she did, she pulled her hands out from behind her back, two mugs of coffee for the early morning you two were having. You took the coffee cup she handed you, it was pure black, just like how you liked it, you guessed she must have noticed when you had coffee before the mission last night. “You have a high metabolism, right? Wouldn’t this do nothing for you?”

“Well, ya… but it still tastes nice.” You glance over at her cup, and it was more so a cappuccino than coffee, with maybe a few spoonfuls of hot chocolate mixed in there, so she most likely just had an extreme sweet tooth. “I’d have to drink at least five cups to feel anything.”

“Huh, well, I guess that makes sense.” You took a sip of your coffee she brought you as you set your book down, laying it down on your lap, you would finish it later, after all conversations like this are nice to have every once and a while. “If I can ask, why didn’t you go on the mission a few nights ago to rescue Songbird?”

“Well, I needed to help a friend, she was going through some mental issues and I wasn’t just about to leave her alone like that, ya know?” You guessed she was talking about Blue Lantern, who was also absent from that night’s rescue mission, and with whom the speedster was sharing a room with at the moment. “Now, since you asked me a question, I get to ask you a question.”

“Alright, shoot.”

“Why were you in Star City when Songbird came looking for you? Cause you don’t seem like the sentimental type, I mean, please tell me if I’m wrong, though I don’t think I am.”

“Well… I can be sentimental if I want to be.” You pause, your smile fading away as you trailed off into your thoughts, that unfortunate night all those years ago, but you could not expect people to trust you if they did not know the truth. “Around eight years ago, during my freshman year, my mom was murdered… I was visiting her grave.”

“Your mom, but isn’t your mom Black Canary, and your dad is Green Arrow…”

“My birth mother… she was sort of in a relationship with my dad and my mum, but relationship is just for lack of a better word in this situation.”

“So you have two moms and a dad?”

“Exactly right, she was my mama, Black Canary is my mum, and well, Green Arrow is my dad.”

“Can I ask how your birth mom was… murdered? I mean you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to-”

“It was Deathstroke, one of the strongest, if not the most skilled assassin on the planet.” You cut her off, and you could see her face morph into visible concern, and she did not know if she should comfort you or just let you be. “It was just a normal night, my mu- Black Canary was on an undercover mission for the Justice League, and my dad had just left patrol. I remember my mom was getting ready for bed, and I was working on homework for my biology class. I heard her scream, so I ran to go and check on her, thinking that the pet snake I had at the time got out of its case, but I only walked into the room to find her bleeding out, her arm cut out and Deathstroke standing there, she yelled at me to run so I did, trying to contact my dad with the SOS signal he installed on my phone, but by the time he got there it was too late…”

“Apollo…”

“She was dead, and then Deathstroke almost got to me… but my dad got there just in time to save my life at least.” You reached out, pulling up your hoodie slightly for the girl beside you to see the jagged scar on your abdomen from Deathstroke’s blade. “Deathstoke gave me a few fucked up scars, lost enough blood to put me on death’s door and if that wasn’t enough he used a poison on his blade made by Sportsmaster that caused catatonia for weeks… by the time I was fully there mentally I missed her funeral, I mean it was just a small event but still…”

“She was your mom, I get it.”

“Ya… she’s buried in the garden on the mansion’s grounds… honestly, I don’t know what I was thinking going back like that.”

“You missed your mom, that’s why.” You let her reach out a hand to rest on top of yours, giving your hand a light squeeze. “Your mom… was she a vigilante too?”

“She was once… kinda rivals with my dad for a while, and then they started dating, but as their civilian identities, Oliver Queen, Dinah Lance, and some museum archivist…” You laughed under your breath, your mom was a historian with a specialty in archaeology, and she would tell you all sorts of stories about the interesting exhibits and artifacts they held there. “But there was an accident, an explosion at a power plant, which damaged the tendons in her hands because she was trying to pick up rubble to rescue a worker there, putting her out of commission. “The rest is ugly… and I’d rather not talk about that part, but I’m sure you know what I mean.”

“I think I do, ya…”

“So what about you, who’s your mom?” You asked, switching up the question onto your new friend, which caught her off guard. “I mean, we all know the Flash.”

“She was a travel nurse who met my dad in Central City when she was there on a job. She doesn’t talk about those days much anymore… she saw some pretty horrific things as a nurse that she was going to retire any which way, but her career was cut short anyway.” You saw her smile, drumming fingers quite literally a million miles per hour against her thigh. “I think part of her was fine with everything that happened to her, after all, she always wanted to be a mom, which is part of the reason why she became a nurse, and she was always somewhat happy.”

“And you weren’t happy?”

“I… I don’t know… I mean, I had a good childhood, but it’s like how one bad thing can spoil everything.” You could hear her foot rapidly drumming on the ground like her heartbeat as she chewed on her bottom lip. “It was when I first developed my speed, it was my sixteenth birthday, and I was training for tryouts for the track team, one moment I was a block away from my house, and the next I was in the middle of the Arizona desert, I was so scared I could hardly breathe when I called my dad, a crying mess. He was there in seconds and brought me back home, clearly, I wasn’t allowed to try out for the track team, wouldn’t be fair. But it also sort of sealed the belief in my dad’s head that I could never be like him, I was too scared, and I just wasn’t prepared… that I would never be ready to be like him, I could never be a hero cause I get too overwhelmed too easily.”

“And yet you're still here?” You asked, and she nodded in response to your question. “How do you not get overwhelmed, like as Blitz?”

“Well, sometimes I can’t stop myself from getting overwhelmed, but music helps, music helps a lot actually.” You watched as she dug into her shorts’ pocket, taking out her cellphone. You scrolled through something before pulling up her playlist and handing you her phone. “Songbird is actually a pretty big music buff too, she helped me make me a playlist for our… work, so to speak.”

“So you listen to music while going two hundred miles per hour?” You scrolled through her playlist: classic punk, glam rock, classic pop, indie, classic rock, electronic rock, pop punk, and whatever the hell recession pop was. So she definitely seems like the type of person who was the artsy indie sort of kid in high school, you were not too different yourself. “How does that even work?”

“Songbird and Firewall designed a special app that allows my phone to track my speed and speed up the music to match my speed, so nothing is in slow motion for me.” You handed the phone back to her as she spoke and leaned back, and glancing over the landscape of the city. “It helps me stay calm and fully in control, overwise I just get to…”

“Freaked out?”

“Exactly right-” “Blitz, Apollo, we got a mission for you two.” You heard a voice from inside the penthouse, it was Huntian. He swung open the door, walking outside and standing before the two of you. He was wearing more civilian clothes himself, dress pants, a button-up shirt, and a vest, you assumed he was going somewhere, most likely to help out at his biological grandmother’s bookshop like he did whenever he had free time and was not running the team in Songbird’s or Dreamcatcher’s place. You both looked up at him as he walked over to the both of you. “This morning, the United Nations’ General Secretary, Tseng Dangun, announced that there would be a press conference this afternoon. Now this could be nothing, but Songbird thinks it is something that could potentially involve the Justice League, you two are going to attend and look into anything you two find suspicious.”

“Are we going as Apollo and Blitz, or as Mr. Queen and Miss Allen?”

“Neither, but more on that in a bit,” Huntian responded to your inquiry, glancing between the two of you. “I would have Pisces and Scorpio go, but both of them are too recognizable if there is any Atlantian there. Songbird still isn’t physically well enough to go on a mission since she got hit pretty badly by Superboy, so she is off the table. Blue Lantern is going with Supergirl to test if she is able to breathe outside Earth’s atmosphere, so both of them are out. Hex is investigating a potential demonic cult out in London, so he is out as well. Then Nemesis, Nightshade, Starseeker, and Mariposa, are working with our sponsor today to design suits for the each of them.”

“And you are going to help your grandmother, I’m guessing?”

“No, actually, Miss Luthor, Dreamcatcher, and I are going to be undercover today.” Huntian shook his head, answering your next question. “A few hours after we rescued Songbird from Mount Justice, it blew up.”

“You’re joking.”

“Nope, Firewall has been keeping tabs on security cameras in Happy Harbor over the last week to see if any members of the Justice League or their covert operations team were still there, and we got the all clear to see if we can access the League’s network by repairing any of the teach in the rubble, we want to see if we can confirm a suspicion Songbird and I have been having.” Huntian no doubt could see the looks of confusion on Blitz’s face and your own face. “We think a few members of the Justice League are off-planet at the moment. We don’t know the reason yet, but we want to find that part out.”

“Who do you think is gone?”

“Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman, Martian Manhunter, Hawkman and his wife, Hawkwoman, The Green Lantern John Stewart, and potentially the Green Lanterns Hal Jordan and Guy Gardner.” This news was slightly concerning to you because if that many Justice League members were off-planet, then something would be horribly wrong. “We would have Blue Lantern check it out, but we don’t want her to potentially walk into a dangerous situation on her own with no idea if and how we can pull her out.”

“Understood, so then we are to just check this thing out?”

“Not quite, Blitz, you two are going undercover,” Huntian responded, an almost mischievous smile playing on his lips. “Thanks to our sponsor, you two are going to be going as representatives from Austen Industries, who are the providers of the United Nations Headquarters’ security system here in New York City, so as Mr. and Mrs. Lance you will be able to go inside after the press conference if something noticeable comes up, but I want you to leave the moment the Justice League is even brought up.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Lance?”

“As far as this mission is concerned, you’ll be married.”

“Oh dear.”

It seems that your credentials, which were given to you as a part of Austen Indestries, were legit, so as far as anyone else knew, you were Mr. Lance and Mrs. Lance, a couple who met on the job and married eventually, a workplace love story. You stood behind the stage that was set up just in front of the United Nations building, just where it would be, out of the eyeshots of the cameras, with other UN officials or security workers. There were many reporters, photographers, and film crews gathered here today, so whatever announcement this was was most likely very important. You stood beside Blitz, or Mrs. Lance, as it was her undercover identity in this scenario.

“So what do you think this whole thing is about?”

“I dunno, but I don’t like the looks of it.” You replied to Blitz’s question as you glanced around the crowd that had gathered here this evening. There was conversation, but all of it was pure speculation, nothing concrete at the moment. “I don’t see any Justice Leaguers, so that is a good sign in my book… I hope.”

“Hm… also, I have been meaning to ask you something.”

“Your friends… the ones you brought with you here, who are the rest of them?” Her question caught you off guard, you did not expect that she did not know, after all Dreamcatchet read all of your minds to make sure that you were all telling the truth about your intentions, you thought that she would have told Huntian, Songbird, and the rest of the crew, but maybe they decided to keep it all a secret to preserve trust, but how can you trust someone if they do not know the truth. “I mean, I just overheard someone talking about it with Song- um… Miss Birdy was in her room early this morning, I just… I think it’s being kept a secret from most of us.”

“I see…” You could not tell her here the truth of everything, not around all these people. She already knows that Miss Luthor is Lex Luthor’s daughter, but you could not tell her that Nemesis is the son of Lady Shiva, that Mariposa is the Princess of Greater Bialya and the daughter of Queen Bee, that Starseeker is the son of Vandal Savage, and let along that Nightshade is the daughter of the man who killed your mother, Deathstroke. After all, you believed that all of them should have the chance to choose who they wanted to be instead of having someone else decide for them, after all, children are not their parents. You had no idea how Blitz would react to you protecting them, rescuing them, taking them out of The Light’s grip, but you knew it was best not to tell her here, out of all places. “I’ll tell you when we get back.”

“Oh… okay- OH MY GOD!” She cut herself off mid-sentence, and her eyes went wide as she stared up at the sky. Your eyes followed hers to see what seemed to be some odd-looking, bug-shaped spaceship docking at the top of the United Nations headquarters. Other reporters, news officials, and government officials were all staring up at the sky as well, or rather, the thing floating in the sky. “What the hell is that?!” “I dunno, but whatever the hell it is, I don’t like it.” You and Blitz left staring up at the sky for a few moments before you finally reached into your pocket and pulled out your phone, taking a photo of the spaceship and sending it off to Firewall, who was currently running communications with all teams out in the field at the moment. “Sent a photo off, see if we can find any matches, especially to when we get access to the Leagu- other network.”

“And for now?”

“We focus on what we came here to do.”

It took a few minutes before anything else came about the appearance of the spaceship, seeing the United Nations’ General Secretary, Tseng Dangun, walking up the onto the stage and up to the podium, but what, or rather who, followed was the most eyecatching right. They appeared to be some sort of humanoid alien, shades of what appeared to be green and greenish blue skin, but most definitely alien, and most definitely worthy of the Justice League’s attention. You both watched as General Secretary Tseng stepped behind the Podium, all cameras and eyes upon him.

“As the representative of the United Nations, I would like to welcome The Reach to our planet as allies and friends.”

None of that sounded good to you, alarms going off in your head that something was horribly wrong with this. But for now, you needed to shut up and listen, and then you would report back with Blitz to the Penthouse and share and compare what you found with the other teams…

And most importantly, you would share the truth with everyone.

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dreamingofaizawa · 2 days ago

Text

Violent Tendencies - Graves

Sheriff! John Price x AFAB! Fem! Reader

~Small Town AU~

Warnings: Violence, descriptions of injuries, graphic descriptions of beating someone the fuck up, possible dissosciation?, high school fights, reader makes a friend :D

Word Count: 4.1k

Author's Note: Here we go again. I've got at leat one more part already in the works. No thoughts, just sheriff John Price ;-;

Part One Here

Enjoy~

***

“I told you this wasn’t over.” Fucking hell this guy really knows how to hold a grudge. It’s been six damn months since you’d heard anything about Graves. According to John he’d been sent off to the nearest detention center for a misdemeanor assault charge, and you left it at that. You figured he’d get it all out of his system in there, get over the stupid notion that you’d somehow been the reason he lost his job. Clearly, you were wrong.

It’s been a calm night, just like every night. Nobody bothers you, you clean until you can’t stand the smell of chemicals, you find something else to occupy your time unless someone walks in. The chiming door doesn’t get your full attention, just a welcome carried through the empty diner. You don’t always get a response, especially if they’re drunk, so the silence isn't anything new. When you meet the cold, dull blue of his eyes, you think maybe there’s ice in his soul.

“Finally got out of jail, huh Phil?” You don’t bother with the niceties, there’s sharp sarcasm in your tone. You’re not happy to see him, cornered now in the diner. You’ve already got the shotgun from the wall, but the buckshot sits in the drawer in the office. You aren’t sure you’re willing to make a break for it, but if you can get there the door has a deadbolt.

“Don’t try it, Tempest. I can get to you faster than you can lock that door.” Your blood boils at the usage of that name. That’s reserved for John to use alone. It’s your name that he gave you.

“I’ll break your jaw for that.” He sneers.

“You’re so full of shit.”

“We both know I’m not.” He’s still on the other side of the counter, not moving to come around to you just yet. He can’t reach you either, still at least a few full strides away. But you’re ready for it, if he decides he doesn’t want to wait any longer. For now, he decides to stay right where he is. You level the shotgun at him, put his chest in sight.

“We both know that thing ain’t loaded.”

“I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?” He can call your bluff. You don’t really care, not when you’ve been reviving old habits. There’s a punching bag in your basement that’s seen your blood already. John’s been teaching you good form, strengthening your wrists and shoulders again. The scars on your knuckles are being overwritten with scabbing and bruises. You’re nowhere near where you used to be, you probably never will be, but you’re better than you were half a year ago. You’ve been sleeping better too, and you know Graves didn’t grow up in this town with you. He doesn’t know about your juvie days, doesn’t know anything really. He doesn’t know who he’s dealing with. He’ll underestimate you until the day you kill him. Blood rushes in your veins, a thick buzz floats over your skin. Red fog crawls over your mind.

“You really wanna take that chance? What if it’s empty?” You hope it’s empty. Then you get your hands dirty.

“I really do want to take that chance. You’re not getting away with this tonight.” You try your best to keep the thrill from your voice. Excitement and adrenaline have your heart bruising your ribcage, threatening to beat right out of your chest. Everything you see goes sharp. You can feel the corners of your mouth tugging, the rush and thrill settling into your bones. He still hasn’t moved. The fear he had back in the sheriff’s cell is gone. He’s just a cocky bastard completely unaware he may just die at your hands tonight.

You know this is going south. No matter what you do, this man has come to hurt you. Maybe not kill you. That’s his mistake. You’d told him six months ago that you’d make him disappear, and you intend on keeping that promise, but to avoid a murder charge you’re gonna have to wait till he attacks first.

“I think I am. It’s just us, sweetheart. Nobody’s coming to help you.” Oh?

“Is that right? Nobody would know if I disappeared right now? I find that hard to believe. John would know.” He laughs then, really laughs, as if you’d told the world’s funniest joke.

“Nah, not a damn soul knows what’s about to happen to you. John will find out, sure, but I’ll be long gone by then.” You huff, try your best to look annoyed and not excited. Nobody knows he’s here.

“So, what? You kill me, scrub the security footage, fuck off to another state? Another country? I don’t think you’ve got the money for something like that.” He’s so confident, so cocksure that he hasn’t advanced at all. Prison must have given him some kind of ego boost. As long as you can keep him talking, you can prove everything you do tonight was in self defense.

“Kill you? Oh no sweetheart, I’m not gonna kill you. I’m gonna make you hurt.” He takes a step toward the counter. “I’m gonna make you scream.” Another step. “I’m gonna make you bleed till you pass out and drag your unconscious body to the sheriff’s doorstep.” You almost spit in his face when he leans up against the counter, both hands planted on the edge with a death grip to keep his composure. Sick bastard he is.

Although, you’re not that far off. You’re sure many would call you sick too.

“I’d love to see you try, Phillip. The only one that can make me scream is John Price, and I don’t think you really want to know how he does that, do you?” Somehow that does it, and he lugs himself onto the counter just to drop to your side. He’s a few strides away still, slowly creeping his way toward you. You drop the shotgun, holding the barrel to use the comb as a bat. He tracks the movement, ready for a strike, but you don’t think being ready for it will help him at all. Not with the way you’re trembling, itching for a fight. He smiles, a creepy thing that’s too wide for his face.

“Shaking already? I haven’t even done anything yet. Scared, sweetheart?” No. But he doesn’t need to know that. Something beeps from the kitchen, and suddenly you’ve got a brilliant idea. You had a pot of boiling water on the stove to use for cleaning. He’s not close enough to grab you yet, and you take off like a bat out of hell through the kitchen door with the gun clattering to the ground.

“No you don’t!” Oh, but you do. You reach the pot with him hot on your tail, and you toss the damn thing right at his chest. There’s a burning on your arms that you ignore, and you miss his face, not having calculated the weight of the pot properly, but it doesn’t matter. The scream he lets out is so cathartic it makes your blood sing. He’s stumbling back, trying not to touch the singed skin. He isn’t ready for you to sock him in the jaw. He falls backward into a rack and nearly has the thing toppling over him, but you manage to drag him by the shirt out to the main floor and slam his head on the edge of the counter. The thud is like music to your ears, but he’s not out yet. No, he’s not done till you’re done with him. He’s on the ground, though, struggling to reorient himself.

“Come on Phil, I thought you were going to hurt me.” He grunts, shakes his head to clear his vision, chest heaving with the pain and panic and disorientation.

“You bitch.” It’s wheezed out, his jaw already starting to swell from your fist. It’s not broken. Yet. You back off, go to grab the shotgun, but he’s trying to stand and stumbles toward you. That’s right. He reaches for you, but he’s a hell of a lot slower than he was a few seconds ago. It’s so easy to grab his wrist and twist until you feel a pop, screeching out curses while you shove him face-first into the nearest solid corner. There’s fire in your veins as you vibrate with energy, glaring down at him while he’s on all fours trying to keep it together, one wrist twisted at an odd angle

“Get up, Phil! You’re not fucking done yet!” You kick him in the ribs, and he rolls onto his back. He’s bleeding from somewhere on his face, but you don’t really care. A rough cough has his whole body jerking.

“Fuck you. I’ll kill you. Then I’ll kill Price.” Red blots your vision, and suddenly everything’s blurring together. Your focus is gone in a haze of fury. Someone’s screaming, something hits your temple, there’s a morbid gurgling groan, something chimes. There’s blood coming from the man you’re pummeling, you can feel the warm fluid splash over your face and arms, feel the crack of bones beneath your knuckles. Your wrist ache, fists slipping on wet skin, and you’re screaming bloody murder when you’re yanked up and away from the unconscious lump beneath you. Your heart thunders wildly in your chest, you’re kicking and screaming and fighting like hell to get out of whoever’s grabbed you.

Blue floods your vision. Brilliant, electric blue. It has you going limp, lungs frantically trying to pull in oxygen, focus returning oh so slowly. Big, warm, rough hands gently cradle your face. He’s saying something, but there’s a ringing in your ears you can’t shake, like in movies when an explosion goes off. You’re released, and fall right into John’s arms, and only then does everything come into focus.

“There you are, Tempest. Breathe for me baby, come on.” You grip his jacket, hands trembling with the rage still coursing through you. He’s alive, and he’s here with you.

“John.” You can feel his chest cave with relief, his shuddering breath heavy in his lungs.

“I’m here. Everything’s alright, I’m here.” You have to blink to focus again, breathe in the smoke and leather and bury your face into his chest. The adrenaline’s fading fast, and with it goes the numbness. There’s a hot, bubbling sting on the skin of your wrists, and your knuckles are open and bloody. John pulls back when you hiss, and you both get a good look at the damage.

There’s second degree burns on your wrists and forearms, probably from when you tossed the pot of water. Your knuckles are raw, blood dripping down your skin. Probably not just your own blood, though. The state of your clothes is just as bad, your collar torn and blood splattered across the fabric. When John reaches up to tenderly press at your temple, you jerk at the sudden throb. Graves must have hit you at some point.

“Fuckin’ hell.” That wasn’t John. You turn to see Simon standing over Graves’ unconscious body, his face a bloody mangled mess. He’s still breathing. Barely.

“How are you here?” You couldn’t help asking. You hadn’t called them, and there’s no panic button to hit, so how did they know to come?

“Laswell said he got released yesterday, and when she checked the camera feed for the diner and saw Graves, she called me immediately.” You nod, then slump into his chest again. Exhaustion is kicking in.

“Should’ve waited a few more minutes.” He hums into your scalp, wrapping his arms tight around you.

“Why’s that?” You huff, breathe in his scent some more. Ground yourself in his presence.

“I told him I’d make him disappear. I’m about to break my promise.” He hums again, and you focus on the rumble.

“It’s a damn shame. Didn’t mean to disappoint you.”

“It’s okay. I think he’ll get the message.” There’s a small, low chuckle, and you melt into him with it. A siren is coming down the road, and you take a breath before stepping away to gather yourself. The paramedics check you once over, but rush Graves to the hospital with Simon close behind once John says he’ll take you himself. It’s a short ride, and it’s spent in relative silence while you get your bearings. You’re still a bit rattled, and there’s a dull throb between your eyes. It’s been ten years since you’d lost it like that. You’re treated for the burns, given cream and bandages and a care list, briefed on what not to let come in contact with your burns, how often to re-dress, all the good stuff. Mrs. Laswell is waiting in the parking lot for you once you’re out. Concern is written all over her face, and she reaches out to hold you by the shoulders.

“Are you alright?” You nod.

“I am Mrs. Laswell.” She scoffs.

“Nonsense. Call me Kate. I saw everything go down, you sure gave Phillip hell didn’t you?” You nod, a small smile curling over your face. You absolutely did. Simon shows up, patting you on the back as he stops beside you.

“You did good. Wanna tell me what happened?” It’s full Deputy mode for him, and he’s writing down everything. Even what Kate says, having watched it from the camera feed.

“What was he saying? The cameras don’t have an audio feed.” Kate asks, and Simon waits with his notepad and pen. You give them everything, from his allusion to being alone to telling him to get up, up until the threat of killing you and John. The three of them snort and stifle laughter at the threats Graves had made, seeing the state he’s in after it was all said and done. Simon tucks the notepad away, slipping out of his Deputy persona.

“Fuckin’ state he’s in. Serves him fuckin’ right if you ask me.” You nod, and Kate scoffs.

“You shoulda seen it all happen. I don’t think the cameras did it any justice, though.” John’s arm wraps around your waist, tucking you into his side.

“We saw the last of it, that’s for damn sure. Simon got to her first, but she was fury and fire.” Simon turns to you, then.

“Didn’t wanna have to hold you so tight, but you were thrashin’ like the devil.”

“It’s fine. You didn’t have much of a choice. I know I wasn’t listening to reason, couldn’t really hear anything at all to be honest.” If you think about it hard enough, you might have even tried to break his nose with the back of your skull if you were any less tunneled on Graves. “What’s the state of him, anyways?”

“Fractured facial bones, two black eyes, fractured skull, concussion, mild brain swelling, third-degree burns over his chest and abdomen, dislocated wrist, and a broken nose. They said he should be waking up in the next 24 hours or so. He’ll be in the hospital for a few days, then released into our custody for processing.” It’s so eerily similar to the boy a decade ago. You may have changed, but not all that much. Simon tells you there’s going to have to be a trial, and Kate is willing to testify. He says Graves’ chances of getting off scot-free are slim to none, and he’s likely to be spending a longer sentence than last time.

You’re expecting some pushback, though. You’ve got a bruise on your face to help with the self-defense case, but you may very well have nearly killed Phil. His attorney will be using that against you, as well as the fact that you hadn’t stopped when he was unconscious. It’s the same argument the family’s attorney had used ten years ago to try for the attempted murder charge. You tell them as much, but they say it’s neither here nor there. John takes you home, and getting cleaned up takes a little longer than you thought.

“How are you feeling, love?” It’s whispered into your temple while you both soak in a hot bath, his arms tight around your waist to hold you to his chest while you keep your arms dry on the edges of the tub.

“I’m okay. A little sore, but fine.” He hums, kisses your temple.

“Good. How about emotionally?” You lean your head back onto his shoulder, let him pepper kisses over your skin.

“A little less fine, but I’m okay.”

“You wanna talk about it?” Do you?

“He threatened to kill you.” He nods.

“So you’ve said.”

“Something snapped, I think. If he hadn’t said it, I might not have beat him so bad. Might have stopped when he lost consciousness.” He tilts your head to look at him, and those baby blues see right through you.

“You regret it?”

“No. He threatened you, I couldn’t just let that go. I think that’s what’s bothering me the most. He was so hell-bent on getting back at me that he wanted to get at you by proxy.”

“Hey, this isn't your fault. You know that.” You nod, leaning into him.

“I do know that. It’s just…infuriating. It’s always the same damn thing. Something I’m not immediately responsible for coming to bite me in the ass. And it always ends with me in a cell or getting reprimanded because my immediate instinct is to fight.” He squeezes your waist, tugging you closer.

“You think you’re gonna end up with another assault charge?” You shrug.

“It’s entirely possible. I’ve got a reputation, and so does he, but in a town this small my past tends to haunt me.” It really does. A lot of the kids you used to beat to a pulp still live here, working and living just like you. Sometimes you wonder if they still hate you for it, because somewhere deep down you’re still upset at them for the things they’d done. And part of you feels guilty for reacting like a chunk of sodium in a pond. Explosive, instantaneous violence. You were on a hairpin trigger in your juvenile days, and kids tend to be extra cruel since they don’t yet know what’s socially acceptable. Especially teenagers. Especially in high school.

A few of them you see often. Robert Brown works the register at the grocer, a kid who’s nose you broke when he shoved you too hard in the hallway. Celeste Kipling bartends two blocks from the diner, and she’ll make an appearance after her shift every once in a while for some peace and quiet. You split her lip when she’d spit on you for accidentally stepping on her new shoes. Winona and Stacy Rudder are twins you’d given black eyes when they tried to give you a whirlie in the school toilet. They work at their dad’s auto repair shop, one at the register and one as a mechanic. You’ve gone in once or twice, and they’ve come to the diner.

Brian Stann is the kid you nearly killed. He works over at the butcher. His sister Rita bakes at the place that supplies the diner’s pastries. You’ve seen both of them since the incident, and they’d always treated you like a stranger. You’d never brought up your volatile past, and neither have they, but you’re sure you all have your reservations about each other. If given the chance, you think they may try to get back at you. But that’s not something you can bank on, either.

“Can’t be helped, Tempest. We’re gonna get you a good lawyer, though. Don’t you worry your pretty head.” You’re not worried about the potential jail time, per se. Being in prison doesn’t scare you. But you don’t want to be away from John when you’d just found him.

He didn’t lie, though. He pulled some strings and two weeks later you’ve got yourself a damn good lawyer. From the big city, he said, is used to dealing with more complex cases than this one. The trial is fast. Kate gives her piece, you give yours, both you and Graves are drilled through. The footage from the diner is played, and you’re shocked to see just how threatening he looks from an outside perspective. It’s more than enough. You come out of it with not a damn thing, and he’s going away for two whole years. It’s what comes after the trial that has you reeling. The whole town had come to see it, which isn’t unusual, most of the town congregates to see what’s happening with the law. There’s a cluster of four outside the courthouse, and when you step out they’re all on you. You’re shocked, to say the least. Because it’s Brian, Rita, Winona, and Celeste. Your past come to haunt.

Brian and Rita, surprisingly, came to apologize. The three of you are all on the same page, stupid kids do stupid things, and even though you all know you were excessively violent, Brian says he thinks he deserved what you’d dished out to him.

“If you weren’t a fighter, you’d have been in my place in the hospital. I was twice your size, and didn’t know my own strength, and I was an angry, freshly 18 year old with pent up aggression.” You’re sure it was a bitter pill for him to swallow. You’d come to the same conclusion a long time ago. They leave you then, with a gentle goodbye, and you get more of the same from Winona. She came alone since Stacy got stuck at the auto shop. Celeste is the last to see you off.

“You really ticked me off when you scuffed those brand new white sneakers of mine.” She says it with a smile, like she’s thinking back on a fond memory. You suppose she’s not all that beat up about it anymore.

“Imagine how I felt when you spit in my face.” She pushes a breath out, regret plain on her face. You try to be lighthearted about it.

“Yeah, that was an oversight on my part. Hell you probably didn’t even know you’d done it until I said something.” She’s not wrong, but you decide not to tell her that little tidbit. John sidles up beside you, slipping an arm around your waist.

“I may have overreacted, though. I feel like maybe an open-palm slap was more appropriate than a fist.” That actually gets her cackling, tears forming in her eyes, and you find yourself giggling along with her.

“Oh but fuck did I deserve that shit. I was a raging cunt back in high school. Walked around like my shit didn’t stink. You sure knocked some sense into me. Sometimes I can see my old self in the strangers that come through the bar, and I have to believe nobody ever socked them in the face in life to be actin’ that way at their age.” You know exactly what she’s on about. In the years you’d worked at the diner, it’s a wonder some of these people walk around saying the things they say, doing the things they do.

“You’ve got that right. It’s why I work overnights. Don’t have to deal with the assholes. Keeps me out of trouble, for the most part.”

“I bet. I’ll be around more often I think. If you can look past the old high school grudge I think we could be friends.” You never really held a grudge, to be honest. It wasn’t serious enough to you. You had bigger problems to tackle, like controlling your violent impulses.

“I think I’d like to see you around.” She smiles, then leans in close.

“I’d kill to have had you bounce Phil from my bar. He’s been a fuckin’ problem ever since he moved here, and I for one am glad to know he won’t be around for a while. The state you had him in? I want a poster plastered on the bar wall, sparkly pink letters that say ‘Phil’s Gone Fishin’ with that mug behind bars.” It gets you giggling, the image of a stupid poster like that hung in a bar. She leaves, bidding you and John a goodbye and a promise to be in the diner after her shifts.

“What was all that then?” You lean into him, rest your head on his shoulder.

“I got into fist fights with those four. They came to make their peace, I guess.” He hums, then herds you to the truck to take you home. It’s been a long day. Hell, it’s been a long two weeks. But you’re finally free of it for a good long while. You get two whole years without having to worry about Phillip Graves, and fingers crossed he’s learned not to fuck with you ever again.

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