#every few months i remember their ending and it makes me miserable
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alllgator-blood · 11 hours ago
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'FOGGY STREETS AND CHRISTMAS LIGHTS'
(part 3/3)
I'm gonna infodump about the backstory of this comic, don't feel obligated to read it because it's not cotl related it's just personal stuff, I just want to be able to write about it somewhere cause I can't really talk to anyone about it.
As always, thanks for reading this far, sorry my stuff has been such a bummer so consistently. This comic goes out to all my "christmas induced depression" homies, I left my house maybe like ~5 times all month and it was NOT pleasant hearing "IT'S THE MOST WONDERFUL TIME OF THE YEAR!!" on the radio when I'm so ready for it to be over. Gonna take it reaaaaal easy til the year ends, you guys take it easy too!! Got some asks I have to respond to when I'm more stable but probably no new comic pages til january
Alright uhhh so this part of the comic is pretty much taken directly from the last time I saw my great-grandma alive, a few days before christmas. She didn't remember me, but at the nursing home there was a piano, and I sat down and played some stuff because I didn't know what to say. I was really into lisa the painful rpg at the time, and I played that "I've got the joy" song that the villain sings without realizing it was an old christian campfire song. She didn't really say much or move that whole night, just kind of gave me a polite blank smile, but started singing the words when I played the notes to that song.
I kinda stopped in shock, my dad frantically asked me to keep playing, so I did. While the comic I made is way more sappy than the actual moment was, I wish I'd cherished the moment longer. I didn't know it was the last time I'd see her alive. Every family christmas was held at her house when she was around, so it's been weird the past few years. I actually lost another dementia-addled grandma to cancer on christmas eve in 2009, so the holiday was already kind of weird for me on top of everything else that makes me sad this time of year. That's what part 2 was about, I'll spare the details but I wrote leshy to act out how I felt back then. Why are we all sad? This is supposed to be a happy time, all the decorations are up and we're almost all here, so why is everyone smiling yet everything feels so wrong? I feel like since leshy's canonically the most ignorant one to things lurking below the surface, he'd be the one to try and make everyone feel better but not quite understand why everyone is so miserable. My first memory of having self injurious behavior came from then, hence why I had leshy pull his leaves off in the last comic. It was confusing and frustrating and I was just old enough to comprehend something was wrong, but not old enough to understand the depth of it, it DEFINITELY didn't help that nobody helped me back then so I made leshy's siblings actually come in clutch instead of grabbing him/yelling at him.
That night with the piano was something that's stuck with me the few years she's been gone, but I felt kind of strange when I asked my dad and my sister about it and neither of them remembered it. The room we were in was completely empty so nobody else witnessed it but us three. I myself have a history of head trauma and memory loss (plus, native americans are disproportionately more likely to develop dementia... lucky us) so if I ever forgot about that moment, there'd be nobody left to remember it. Sometimes when I do comics, it's my way of going "this happened at some point, and the only evidence it ever happened was me witnessing it, so if something happens to me I want the memory to stay alive in some form."
Anyway. The autistic urge to overshare, am I right? Idk what my religious ass great-grandma would think of me drawing demonic comics about my last memory of her, she'd probably think it's funny though cause she raised my dad whose interests have always been "death metal and devil worship". I'm not sure if anyone read this far, I just hope my dumb comics can convey the things I can't say with my voice and struggle to say through text. None of this was supposed to be "feel bad for me!! Woe is me!!", it was supposed to me more like...cathartic? Healing? I almost didn't post this comic because it felt kinda weird, but seeing people connect with it made it worth it imo. Thank you
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hopelesssheaven · 1 year ago
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me bcuz i need hosie back rn
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lnfours · 5 months ago
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us. | l.n
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summary: and what seemed like fate becomes "what the hell was i doin'?" ; aka time heals all wounds, so they say, but has it been long enough for it to heal the one he left?
warnings: the highly requested part two to ‘august’, use of she/her pronouns, childhood friends to lovers, second chance romance, oscar giving lando advice bc duh, pining, language, lando absolutely word vomiting when it comes to his feelings, fluff towards the end.
‘august’ | listen | masterlist
oscar piastri took pride in being more observant rather than being the life of the party. he much rather preferred to be labeled as the 'wall hugger' rather than the wild child between him and his teammate. he let lando have that role, opting on sitting on the sidelines more often than not.
but tonight, it was completely different. the aussie driver had agreed to hitting the club in monaco tonight to celebrate charles' first home win and his own second place finish. he couldn't shake the feeling that something was going on with his teammate, eyeing him as he sat down in the lounge area the group had gotten for the evening. something out of the normal for the brit.
he decided to take matters into his own hands, joining his friend on the couch. lando sent a tight lipped smile to his teammate, another red flag the aussie picked up on. he wasn't sporting his usual smile, the one that beamed. one of pure joy.
"you feeling alright, mate?" oscar asked, genuinely concerned.
lando nodded in response, "'m good, just a bit tired."
he hummed, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked out at the dance floor of people. the crowd normally lando would be in the middle of, but not tonight.
"gonna make me pry it out of you or are you just gonna tell me?"
lando chuckled softly, letting out a soft sigh, "y'know that new reporter for sky who was in the media pen earlier?"
oscar furrowed his eyebrows in concentration, trying to remember your name, "think so? shit, what was her name?"
"y/n," lando said and oscar nodded in agreement.
"yeah, that's it," the aussie turned back to look at his teammate, "what about her?"
"well, a few years ago, her and i kind of..." lando trailed off, leaving his teammate to raise his eyebrows.
"you two had a thing?"
lando nodded, "yeah, she had a vacation rental next to mine in the states, and one summer we just really hit it off. y'know, we went on dates and eventually it turned into something more, and... oscar, i was in love with her."
the australian was shocked, "did you tell her?"
"i did," lando nodded, swallowing before continuing, "and i was with her when i got the call that they wanted me to join the team, and i just... i fucking left. i left without waking her up and saying goodbye. the best few months of my entire life, falling in love with someone who has never made me feel more loved and appreciated, and it all went down the drain because i fucked it all up."
oscar sat in silence for a minute, processing what the brit next to him had just told him, "well, do you still love her?"
"i never stopped," lando looked over at his teammate, his expression showing the guilt he still felt for leaving that one night, "i don't think i could ever."
"have you told her?"
he shook his head, "pretty sure she hates my guts, so, no."
oscar sighed, "listen, although she has every reason to hate you, i mean, i would too, doesn't mean deep down that she does. obviously, running into you again has probably brought up all of those feelings she worked to get over, but if you really feel the way you're telling me you feel about her, and it seems like you do, you gotta fight for it. you can't just let her slip through your fingers, again, and live a miserable life. nothing's gonna come out of it if you don't work for it."
lando sat in shock at his teammate, blinking at him like a deer in headlights. he had never known oscar to be this wise when it comes to relationship advice. he truly didn't know he had it in him.
"what?" the aussie laughed, "mate, i've been with lily for five years. you think we haven't had our own fair share of ups and downs?"
"no, i'm just amazed that at your age you're so wise." lando joked back, the two of them laughing.
"yeah, whatever," oscar waved him off, "but seriously, i mean what i said."
he nodded, "i know, i just don't know when i should talk to her."
oscar shrugged, "the sooner the better. that way you stop moping around like a sad, lost puppy."
lando jokingly rolled his eyes, pulling his phone from his pocket, "shut up."
his heart hammered in his chest at the thought of messaging you, opening instagram. but, just when he went to open his messages, your profile picture caught his eye at the top of the screen. he tapped onto the story you had posted not long ago, holding it down so it wouldn't disappear as he scanned over the picture.
you were still at the track, posting a picture from one of the offices. a video from your interviews today sitting on the screen, clear that you had stayed late to finish working on them. a caption written out on the photo.
'in desperate need of another cup of coffee'
he was up on his feet before he could even think through what he was about to do. shoving his phone in his pocket as oscar smiled at him softly.
"where're you heading?"
lando turned, walking backwards away from the lounge area, shouting over the bass of the club music playing loudly through the speakers, "'m feeling like having a cup of coffee! thanks for your help, osc!"
oscar raised his glass in a cheers motion to his teammate, watching him turn around and make a beeline for the exit. lily found her way to the lounge area, sitting next to her boyfriend and jabbing her thumb over her shoulder, motioning towards his teammate.
"where's he heading?"
oscar smiled, swallowing the sip of his drink, "going to get his girl."
the night breeze in the monaco air felt nice on lando's skin, a contrast against the overly warm club he had been in. he pulled his phone out once again, searching for a coffee shop that would still be open at this hour. he found one that looked promising after a few minutes of searching, putting in the directions to it and taking off in the direction.
he ignored the hammering of his heart in his chest as he carefully placed the cup in the holders of his car. was it the best idea to show up unannounced with a coffee in hand, especially when he wasn't sure how you felt about him? probably not. but after the conversation with oscar, all he could think about was how he couldn't lose you again. how even after searching for someone to fill the ache in his heart that was put there by his own doing, no one could compare to you. they couldn't ever be you, even if they tried or if he tried to make it work. it wasn't the same.
he parked the car, heading towards the building he knew all the journalists worked in. some of them still hanging around, sending lando smiles but confusion clear in their eyes as his eyes scanned the room.
"do you know where y/n is?" he asked an older man, a guy he had recognized to be your camera man from earlier. the man nodded, pointing towards the room with glass walls. he could see you in the room, your back facing the door. headphones sitting on top of your head, clearly invested in your work. he swallowed nervously, thanking the man before heading towards the room.
you hadn't noticed he entered the room until a hand placing a coffee next to you caught your attention. you slipped the headphones off, placing them on the desk before turning to see who was standing behind you.
he met your eyes, which were also laced with confusion as you spun around in your chair. he sent you a small, nervous smile. the same smile you had given him in the media pen hours ago.
"lando? what're you doing here?" you asked, "and how did you.."
he smiled softly, "saw your story."
"what is it?" you asked, moving to grab the warm cup, "i mean, i like my coffee-"
"with light cream and two and a half sugars. the pink packets, though, not the white ones."
your heart squeezed in your chest, he remembered the way you liked your coffee.
you took a sip of the warm liquid, tasting exactly the way you liked it. you took in a deep breath, meeting his green eyes once again and you swore you were slowly falling in love with him again. it was like you were back at the beach house, back at the exact moment you had realized you were in love with him.
maybe the feelings you thought had gone away after the years weren't truly gone.
your lipstick left a pretty mark on the white lid and he scanned your facial features. in the dim lighting you were still as gorgeous as the day he met you, pretty colored eyes that complimented the color of the strands of your hair. a pair of glasses sitting comfortably on your face, remembering that you only wore them when your eyes were starting to get irritated after a long day.
your voice was soft, "lando, what're you doing here?" you asked again, still confused on why he had come, "i mean, other than dropping off a coffee, which thank you for, by the way, but shouldn't you be out with the rest of the drivers? y'know, celebrating..?"
"well, i was," lando breathed, ignoring how it came out a little shaky, “but, to be honest, i just.. really want to talk to you.”
everything he rehearsed in his head during the driver over here was going out the window with each passing second. the longer he looked in your eyes the more he wished he had never walked out of that house all those years ago. the more it was eating him up inside that he let the best thing he ever had go, that he never told you why.
you sighed, pointing over your shoulder to the screen behind you, “i really have to finish this,”
“it’ll be quick,” he was almost begging. about to get on his knees if he had to, “promise.”
you nodded, your brain yelling at you for agreeing but your heart almost leaping out of your chest at the fact that he was here. standing in front of you. right now. when he could’ve been at the club, wrapped around some other girl. but he wasn’t.
“okay, just, let me grab my things.”
he nodded, biting down on his lower lip nervously as you saved your work and exited out of the editing software. you packed up everything in your bag, pushing the chair in before grabbing your coffee from the desk.
he held out his hand, “here,”
you furrowed your eyebrows in response. he motioned to the bag and you smiled softly, “oh, thanks,”
he nodded, letting you lead him out of the office. you said goodnight to the crew that was left, not batting an eye at the looks they gave you for having the, arguably, most sought out driver on the grid tailing behind you.
once you were outside, he walked next to you. matching your pace as he looked over at you, “so, uhm, how’re they treating you at sky?”
you nodded, “good,” you smiled softly, “didn’t expect i’d work in the same sport as you, to be honest.”
“you’re telling me you didn’t follow me here to make me realize i’ve been missing out all this time?” he joked and you laughed, shoving his shoulder with yours.
“shut it,”
“sorry, too soon?”
you chuckled, “forever might be too soon.”
he chuckled with you, unlocking the doors to the mclaren. he opened the passenger side door, letting you sit down in the seat. you took your bag from him and smiled, a silent thank you, before he closed the door for you and rounded the front of the car to get in on his side. he started the car, looking back over at you, "hungry?"
you hummed, "starving."
"perfect," he said, putting in the directions for a place he knew you'd like. you rubbed your lips together nervously, watching the monaco lights pass by you. the breeze was nice, something you could get used to.
you cut through the silence that fell over the two of you, speaking over the soft music he had put on for the drive, "so, what did you want to talk about?"
he looked over at you, the red of the stoplight illuminating his face. he had grown into his features, but the boyish things about him was what you loved. the way his dimples deepened the wider his smile was, the moles and freckles that littered his skin like stars, and you had noticed the small scar on the bridge of his nose. one that wasn't there years prior, but you had grown to love. you silently hoped he'd tell you the story sometime. wanting to know every detail of his life the past few years, the years you spent watching from the sidelines.
"about what happened," he said, the light turning green and his attention fixing back to the road, continuing to drive, "i feel like i owe you a very long, detailed, explanation."
you nodded as he pulled into a parking lot, "okay, yeah," you breathed out softly, "sure."
he parked the car, turning the engine off before looking back at you. you turned to face him, giving him a soft smile as he looked at you, eyes dancing around your face before he took a deep breath.
"listen, i know it's been a while and i really wouldn't blame you if you hate my guts, but i just... can't. i can't pretend that i've lived in a world i'm completely satisfied with. and i can't bring myself to fall in love with someone else because no matter what, i find myself wishing i was with you, at that stupid beach house where i first felt what love truly felt like."
you sat in silence, taking in his rambling thoughts. this conversation definitely wasn't going as well as he had rehearsed it in his head, but it was too late to turn back now. he was sitting here, spewing every emotion he's felt over the past couple of years in front of you. it's how he truly felt. no filter, no hoops to jump through, just pure emotion and longing and hints of regret, and true apologies.
"you're the first thing i think of when i wake up and the last thing i think of before i go to bed, and hell, sometimes i even find you in my dreams because for a while that was the only place where you and i co-existed. and i'm so fucking sorry for how i left you, how i packed up and moved on with my life without even considering how you would feel. it makes me sick to my stomach to think about the fact that i've fucked up the part of my life that felt normal. that felt real, and all because i was too much of a coward to tell you what was going on. too scared to drag you into all of this,"
he was still rambling and you couldn't help the way your heart hammered against your chest. the moment you had wished for all these years finally unfolding in front of your eyes and you couldn't help the tears that were starting to prick your eyes.
"but now, you're here, and i'm here, and... holy fuck i'm still so in love with you."
his throat bobbed, swallowing down the nerves as you watched him. you were speechless, unsure how to respond to everything he had just spewed to you. your heart was caught in your throat, the tears closer to spilling over after his rambling. he had said everything he was feeling and little did he know it was the same way you had been feeling too.
after every wish and journal entry wishing he'd waltz back into your life, he finally was here. sitting across from you, and now you were speechless. unable to find the words to tell him you felt the same way.
"i'm sorry," he mumbled, looking away and straight ahead of him, almost as if he was embarrassed to spring all of that onto you, "that was a lot all at once, i'm sorry-"
you leaned over the center console, grabbing his face in your hands, turning him to face you and smashing your lips against his. the tears falling down now at the feeling of having him this close again. the familiar feeling of having his lips on yours again being enough to send them dripping down and onto your shirt.
he was quick to kiss you back, as soon as the initial shock wore off. his hand moving to cup your cheek, deepening the kiss as you grabbed his shirt in your fist, not wanting to let go after he had been away from you all this time.
he pulled away when he needed to catch his breath, forehead resting against yours. you smiled softly, the two of you panting breathless and in love. he brought his thumb up to your cheek, wiping away the few stray tears that were still lingering. you leaned into his touch and he pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth.
"i love you," you breathed, nose bumping his, "so much. i never stopped, even after you left."
he smiled, his voice soft, "i'll spend a lifetime making it up to you."
you shook your head, "it doesn't matter. you're here now, that's all that matters."
"can i start with dinner?" he asked, smiling softly and brushing a piece of hair from your face. you hummed and nodded, pulling away from him as he got out of the car, jogging to open your door. you smiled and placed a quick kiss to his lips, joining your hands together. he walked with you into the restaurant, and as he opened the door for you all he could think about how he was the luckiest man on earth.
there was no way he was letting you again. you were incomparable. chemical.
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pumpkinbxtch · 8 months ago
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Hi, I just saw that you said that Jason is a little possessive, so I was wondering can you do a request with Jason and reader in that scenario, where he is a little jealous and possessive boyfriend?
he wrote 'mine' on my upper thigh
— jason grace x fem!reader
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warnings: jealousy, language, jealous jason
a/n: I live for this face of everyone, it makes me very irresistible, lol.
— Want to die? — Jason asked, his expression completely changed. As if his pale skin wasn't enough, the way his face turned into a deadly calmness gave them enough reason to doubt every decision they had made in the last two miserable years of their lives. When they felt a cold breeze run down their spine, confirmed they had definitely messed with the wrong guy. What Jason didn't know was that normal mortals didn't find it hard to play that game because, well, those threats were never as real as he was used to.
— It's just a woman, no big deal, buddy — maybe was the brown-haired guy said it in a disdainful tone, or maybe was the last word that made Jason's stomach churn, but he remembered he was still in public, so he tried not to incinerate them with a snap or at least not to keep gritting his teeth the way he was because he swore he was about to shatter them.
— Just a woman — he repeated the words, dragging each one with hatred and disgust. The guy with the red hair looked more nervous than his other friend, so he tried to make peace, but that was something Jason had already left behind as an alternative to that argument. He wouldn't forgive any disrespect to you, because you were his best friend, his girlfriend, the person he would die for without a second thought, and if they wanted to see him that way, then you weren't just a woman, you were his woman.
He glanced to make sure you weren't anywhere near the checkout and took a few steps toward the pair. The redhead was close to wetting his pants, but his friend still had that stubborn look, pretending to downplay the significant difference in height and muscle mass between them.
For a moment, Jason struggled with his morality, because it was stupid to fight with his clearly abnormal strength for something that was easy to ignore because they would never be able to lay a finger on you while he was alive. However, he couldn't help but notice the way their eyes had been roaming over your body or the way they looked at you while you smiled at him. It made his blood boil and awakened the most primitive part of his being causing his logical side to drown and disappear, almost like those days when he was with the wolves. Besides, if he thought about it, it wasn't just them, it was every damn man and woman who dared to smile at you in a way that suggested more than just kindness, especially if they were the ones making you laugh. That's when he always felt on the edge of losing control.
Jason could feel shame somewhere in his conscience for his behavior, but this was also too real to hide for a little longer. That moment alone with those idiots had only given him the golden opportunity to unleash those piled-up frustrations.
— Yeah, just a woman — it was stupid, the conversation didn't go beyond that, but the retort was enough for the air to smell metallic and their hair to stand on end warning of the electricity beginning to fill their surroundings. How bad would it be if two mortals were struck by lightning for earning the title of the biggest idiots of the month? The answer was obvious to Jason: very bad, useless, in fact. So he took a deep breath and watched their hair return to normal.
— She's mine — he said, starting to turn around to go help you, but he stopped when he heard the other mocking him.
— Who says? —Jason was fed up with the irreverence and turned back to them, his fingertips sparking again.
— Beat it —he said as he sent a small electric shock to both of them. Mild enough not to cause harm but enough to make them scream. His eyes literally sparkled, making them doubt what they were seeing, scaring them, and confirming that the Mist hadn't helped when he saw them run. He wondered if he had gone too far, if he had let himself be carried away too much by that part of him that didn't make him proud but that he knew was part of him. In the end, he decided he didn't care, remembering that someone had once told him he had to stop holding back. So, with that philosophy in mind, he decided to go look for you.
The picnic tables weren't as crowded as you expected, in fact, there was hardly anyone around you, and you wondered if it was because for a moment there was a hint of rain or because of the heavy aura that Jason had been carrying since you left the grocery store, and now that you thought about it, you considered that both reasons were possibly related.
— Jason Grace — you called him sweetly as you opened the picnic basket, and he immediately softened his frown and looked in your direction. He was struck by the gentle way the breeze swayed your hair, it was an almost imperceptible movement but it highlighted how beautiful you were. He knew why you were calling him by his full name, his behavior couldn't be more obvious, but those words echoed in his mind.
»Who says?«
He slid along the bench to get closer to you as he watched you set things on the table. He wrapped his hand around your waist, and although you smiled in that way that was like oxygen to him, it wasn't enough for him. So, taking you by the hips, he forced you to stand up.
— C'mon, let's eat, baby — you said giggling, and he sat you on that old wooden table while he returned to the bench.
He looked up at you with his blue eyes, and seeing you from that perspective that made you look majestic. he rejected the idea of letting anyone else be the person who hugged you or who was close enough to smell your sweet scent. The idea of someone else other than him being able to kiss your lips, which were so perfect and soft, drove him crazy, he couldn't handle it.
»Who says?«
With that thought, he started searching in your bag that was lying next to you, you never stopped him, but you wondered about that change in attitude because he seemed a little rougher and severe, his eyes were even a little darker, but you couldn't deny that he looked handsome, that you even liked it.
When Jason found what he wanted, he stood up supporting only his right knee on the bench as support and he enjoyed the way that velvet skirt rose, leaving your thighs in his view. Before leaning towards them, he searched your eyes for any kind of disapproval because for him, the most important thing was how you felt, and not finding anything like that, gave him enough confidence to continue.
He felt your muscles tense and tried to undo it by caressing your leg, but failing that, his lips kissed a bit above your knee, which made you swallow saliva, what the hell was he trying to do and why now? Jason was never too public, any major display of affection was always in a more intimate place. When he straightened up, in his hand you finally saw what he had taken from your bag: your eyeliner.
Dazed, you reached out to try to take it, but he quickly caught his hand with yours on the table and before you could do the same with the other, he placed the open eyeliner between his lips and trapped your other hand in the same way.
He raised his gaze above his glasses and slowly shook his head, sending a silent warning before leaning towards you again, exactly on your upper thigh. You felt the moisture of the pen on your skin and with a given precision, you started to see that he was writing, but it wasn't until he finished that you could barely read it. The air left your lungs when you deciphered it and you didn't understand how after doing that, he had sat back down with the same serene smile as always, his hands spreading the tablecloth for you to eat while he hummed a familiar song.
Had you missed something? It was definitely something new in him to behave openly in that way, but you didn't dislike it. After all, what it said there wasn't a lie.
— Do you have any objections? — His demanding question didn't match the sweet tone in which he had said it, and you got off the table to put both hands on his shoulders.
— No, sir — you confirmed with the same tone and kissed the line of his jaw before taking a seat beside him.
Jason continued to arrange things, he seemed peculiarly focused, so you took the opportunity to discreetly look down once more, but your skirt had covered the word. Slowly with your hand, you lifted the fabric until it was visible again:
"Mine"
You felt a warmth spread through your body and crossed your legs on purpose to make it visible. That action drew a smile on your boyfriend's face, and not long after, he kissed you. No, it wasn't a lie, but as you was his, he was yours.
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missswritesalot · 3 months ago
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Yall tumblr was being a bitch and would literally not let me make a new post for whatever reason. It also deleted this ask from my inbox, thank heavens i had a screenshot. Enjoy, will edit it later to make it more medieval :)
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Your marriage to Robb Stark didn’t come with a husband’s love, but nonetheless brought with it all the duties of the Lady of Winterfell. You felt robbed, neither your father not husband ever spared you a second thought. Yet you dutifully married Robb, and now were running his household.
You sighed as you helped one of the servants count sacks of grain in the great yard of Winterfell. The southern houses were yet to send the grain you bought. There was meat to be salted and firewood collected. Winter was coming, you thought worriedly, and there was still so much to do.
A frown fell on your face as you realized you were thinking like one of them.
Two months passed since your wedding. You thought you would get used to Robb openly loving Talisa. Yet these last few weeks you found yourself more quick to tears than you ever were. You didn’t care about Robb per se, but that he was your husband and shared his bed with a wench from the free cities.
You couldn’t even plead for an annulment, as you had consummated your marriage the night of the wedding. You remember feeling his caring touch, murmured apologies as he tenderly made love to you. He was determined but acted out of duty, not passion. You felt a spark of hope then, in the throes of pleasure. Perhaps now that he had you, Robb would be true and send Talisa away.
That hope was fleeting. He slept in her tent every night after that, for the rest of the war. Your broken heart hardened towards him, your humiliation turned to resentment.
When he won the war and you were seated next to him at the feast, you had foolishly hoped Robb would honor you on returning to Winterfell, and shun Talisa, but she remained by his side in your place. You felt despair, there was no light at the end of this tunnel.
You felt increasingly miserable this morning, and felt very light headed too. You had not been eating these last couple of weeks, and woke each morning retching. A wave of nausea rolled over you now.
“My lady, are you alright?” You heard a serf question as you faltered. You felt him guide you to a pile of hay but you were dizzy and sweaty, and fell into the inviting void.
When you awoke you were in bed propped up by pillows.
Catelyn was sitting next to you, and gave you a tentative smile when you looked at her.
“How do you feel?” She asked you gently. She patted you on the head. You felt too ill to reply.
The maester walked in and asked you a few questions. You answered curtly, you didn’t care for any of the northerners, not even him.
“My lady, I have examined you while asleep. I am happy to say you are with child,” he reported softly.
Your mouth fell open and your head whipped to look at him. “What?” You whispered. Catelyn squeezed your hand reassuringly.
You had given up on all hopes of motherhood when Robb went back to Talisa from the second night. You felt tears well in your eyes.
“Are you certain?” You whispered.
“We will know more as the months progress. The child will come before winter starts, if what we know is true.” He said, gently smiling.
You started to laugh. The hopeless despair ebbed away out of you. You were filled with joy so pure you started to cry.
“I thought it could never happen to me,” you muttered, unable to control yourself. Catelyn cringed but gave you a sympathetic glance.
You knew she felt bad for you and sympathized with you. She thought her husband’s bastard was the end of the world, but her son proved to be far worse.
You spent the rest of the day in bed, the maester’s instructions, and slightly rubbed your belly.
“Just you and me now, love,” you said, smiling to yourself.
It was Catelyn who told Robb that you were carrying his child. When the maester revealed the news, she had hoped it was because Robb finally took you to bed. But he seemed surprised, and told her not since the wedding night had he touched you.
Robb drowned in regret that night. Talisa tried to touch him, to hug him, but he shrugged her away and went to peer out the window, feeling the crisp northern air. He wanted to go to the only other person who felt the same happiness as him, but you had chosen to give up your right of informing him about your baby.
The months that followed made Robb crumble with guilt whenever your paths crossed.
You were glowing at dinner one night, smiling and answering all sorts of questions.
Your face looked surprised all of a sudden, and Robb looked at you worriedly. You grabbed Catelyn’s hand and let her feel your babe move. She laughed, blue eyes lighting up, and assured you it was alright, your baby was strong.
Talisa saw the longing and pining in Robb’s eyes. He wished to feel his son kick too. Instead, he looked dejected and regretted the bed he made for himself by hurting you. He apologized to Talisa that night. He paid her handsomely for the inconvenience and sent her away back to the south where she could reunite with the Sept.
As the months passed you grew in size and walked funnily. You read to your child often, and you and Catelyn became the best of friends. You looked forward to the birth, sure you were anxious, but it would be worth it to hold your child.
When the maesters suggested you lie in bed till the arrival of the little lord, Robb noticed your continual absence at dinner.
“Can I go meet her, mother?” He asked Catelyn one night as she walked out of your chamber.
“Why do you hurry? Perhaps you must wait until the child is grown and you are on your deathbed?” Catelyn said sharply, and turned on her heels. It took a beat for Robb to register that she was being sarcastic.
“It is my child too. My first. My hier.” Robb protested, following her.
“And yet while she struggles, you have not acknowledged it, nor have you uttered a kind word to her.” She said sharply.
“I- I-“ Robb was at a loss. He didn’t imagine you could want his company in your delicate situation. He felt a sharp spasm in his stomach as his guilt grew, he knew he took the easy way out by assigning responsibility to you, when he was to blame.
“I am ashamed you are my son,” Catelyn said finally. Robb watched her go, his heart sinking in his chest.
He didn’t sleep at all that night, and the next, and the nights after that. One day, he couldn’t take any more of the anguish and decided to pay you a visit. It was the middle of the night and the whole castle slept.
Your door creaked as he pushed it open, and to his surprise he saw you still awake. You were resting against the furs, half sitting, and had a book propped up on your swollen belly.
“Lady Y/N,” Robb said softly. He had always called you Lady Y/N or Lady Fray.
“My lord,” you said, confused. You no longer felt any anger when you saw him, but he was the last person you expected to see at this hour. Let alone in his breeches with a half open robe thrown on top.
“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” he questioned gently. He carefully approached your bed till he sat on the edge, over the furs. You unwillingly noticed the strength in his shoulders, the hard lines of his abdomen. Maybe childbirth would lessen your desire, you hoped.
“I cannot breathe when I lay down. It’s like he rests on my lungs,” you said, affection infusing your voice as you spoke of your child.
“I’m sorry to hear,” Robb said softly. “I know I have not acted the ideal husband-“  He let out a self depreciating laugh.
“An understatement.” You said. He looked sad at that. Sad and pathetic.
He leaned forward and kissed your brow. “I cannot express how deeply sorry I am,” he whispered.
“I will try to atone for my sins. For you and for our child.”
“Robb,” you said quietly, eyes wide. “you can start by calling the maesters. I think he wants to come out.”
Robb sprung back and you noticed he looked younger than ever. His hair fell into his face.
“Now?” He asked, “Are you alright?”
You felt another sharp cramp hit. “The maesters, Robb. Now!”
Robb didn’t attend to his duties the next day. He sat outside your chambers, propped up against the wall with his legs spread out in front of him.
The maesters and even his mother warned that first babies were slow to come, he had better go about his duties. But his head was clouded with thoughts of you. He felt ice shards pierce his heart whenever he heard you moan or cry, but the silence in between was far worse to endure.
He prayed to the old gods and to the new that if you lived, he would spend the rest of his life making it up to you.
Robb didn’t wish to see anyone, and no one could convince him to go wait elsewhere. At last after sun down he heard the sounds of your baby. He waited to be let in, to see his child and heir.
It felt like ages before the door opened. Catelyn’s smiling face beckoned him inside. He found you seated on the bed again, looking drained but shining with pride and joy.
“Your daughter,” you said shyly to him, still looking at her. You rocked her as she let out a small cry. She did a tiny yawn and you cooed in response, your heart exploding with love.
“I’m sorry about how cruelly I treated you.” Robb apologized.
“Robb-“ you said, trying to stop him, but he cut you off.
“Neither you nor I entered this marriage willingly, but I have been most unfair. I do not wish to dishonor you. Love is something we build brick by brick, not momentary passion.”
“Why now?” You asked, confused. “Why now after all this time?”
“Because I’ve fallen in love with you.” You gasped.
“I know you do not share my feelings but we have a lifetime to correct it.” He continued, smiling cheekily.
You grinned and rolled your eyes. You were stuck with him, for better or worse.
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midmourn · 1 year ago
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like the movies
♡ nct dream ﹒ gender neutral!reader genre fluff, slice of life, angst, suggestive warnings language, suggestive on jeno’s, brief death joke on haechan’s note if yall have any requests let me know 🫶 here’s the tropes if you can’t tell: mark: best friends to lovers. renjun: enemies to lovers. jeno: fwb. haechan: fake dating. jaemin: second chance. chenle: arranged marriage. jisung: brother’s best friend. i cant remember who inspired this but i do know it was for enhypen lol ( masterlist )
resting on his elbow on your bed, mark’s mouth is agape as he stares at you, blinking furiously. was he dreaming? you, who stood in front of the floor length mirror, smooth down your clothes for non-existent dust and smile to yourself, “okay, how about this outfit?” you wait a few seconds before frowning, “mark? hello— mark?” you wave a hand in front of him and he jolts, “wha—? oh, um, yeah, it’s great. you look really good— … dude.” he winces inwardly at the name, but you don’t bat an eye at it and frown at his seemingly insincere words. “you’re right, it’s bad. i’m going to change.” mark catches your hand with a laugh, “dude, no! seriously, you look really— …” he trails off, looking hesitant to say the next word, even though he’s said it so many times before so easily. what was different now? “— pretty. gorgeous,” he says it without even thinking, realizing it the moment you smile bashfully, ducking your head to your chest to try and hide it but failing miserably. he studies your face for a second, eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips. and— oh. he wants to kiss you so bad. you, his best friend. oh. oh shit.
renjun doesn’t know when the lines blurred from enemies to frenemies to … lovers? crushes? all he knows is that the burning rage that used to fill him every time your mouth opened was now replaced with warmth spreading over his chest and the urge to kick his feet while giggling. words neither of you would dare to speak around your mothers, intended to hurt, were replaced with teasing, playful words with no hint of malice. your head turns swiftly, knocking him out of his daydream as you raise an eyebrow at him, “take a picture, maybe it’ll last longer.” cheeks flushing a subtle red, his eyes narrow at you, “you might break my camera.” but his pinky creeping towards yours and lips curling up at the ends says how he really thinks. you smile, flipping your hand over and making the first move to intertwine your fingers. his heart stuttered in his chest, “i— you—” you laugh, squeezing his hand once before going back to your textbook. and, yeah, he was certain he’s never felt this before.
“if you squeeze any harder, i think you’ll break the glass,” mark attempts at a joke to diffuse the tension radiating off jeno. jeno’s lips barely twitched up as he glanced down at the glass in his hand before setting it to the side, done drinking for the night. he didn’t feel like it anymore when he saw how closely some guy holds you to his side, hand on your waist. he didn’t like the funny feeling it gave him and he could only imagine how it’d feel when alcohol was added into the equation. “jeno, dude, when are you gonna make a move? you guys have been—” he glances around, checking for eavesdroppers even though the music was far too loud for anyone to hear, “—messing around for months, basically a couple without the label. and you know there’s more people interested in y/n than just him.” the two look back to the opposite side of the room where the guy was whispering something in your ear, a smirk on his face. “you need to tell them you want something more than just fuck buddies. or else you’ll lose them forever.”
“you— WHAT?” haechan winces as your voice grows louder in his ear, casting a quick look around to see if anyone could hear you through the phone. “hyuck! what the fuck?” “don’t act like it wouldn’t be a privilege to date me,” haechan scoffs playfully, hiding his nervousness behind humor; as he always did with his emotions. “i’d rather die.” “okay, well, please! my mom’s already told everyone in my family that i’m bringing someone, including my sisters!” the mention of his sisters have you going quiet, and he hopes you’re thinking about it on the other end. “god, haechan— i—” you sigh in frustration, “how was my name the first name to pop up in that tiny brain of yours?” he ignores the jab, thinking back to that moment. truthfully, he already knew why you were the first name to pop up in his head when his mom mentioned bringing a date to his family reunion. but you didn’t need to know that. not right now, at least. “you weren’t, you were actually my last choice but all my other choices would’ve said no,” he teases, hearing you scoff in disbelief and he grins. “whatever. you’re lucky i love your sisters and hate letting them down.” “and me?” he raises an eyebrow, maybe a hint of hope in his voice. “you wish.” he does.
jaemin swears he’s dreaming when he looks up and sees you. never in a million years did he think you would come back home. not when you tried so hard to leave, anyway. you’re across the aisle, switching your gaze between two spices in your hands when you feel the back of your neck prickling. your head lifts, making eye contact with jaemin immediately. your breath catches, the world freezing around you as the two of you stared at one another. jaemin had only seen glimpses of you through social media the last four years, living your life in some prestigious university with your dream job and dream life in america. he watched your life through pictures like he used to watch you sleep. you break first, raising a hand to wave shyly at him, attempting a weak smile as you didn’t know how he’d react. jaemin abandoned his cart, walking closer to you as you set the spices into your cart. “hi,” you breathe out once he stands in front of you. for years, it seemed like you could never catch your breath, always missing just one thing. and now, it seemed like a breath of fresh air, standing in front of him. his lips turned up into a soft smile, eyes shining as he said softly, “hi.”
the hotel room is silent as chenle unlocks the door with the cardkey, letting you in first and doing a quick check of his surroundings before following in. he listens to the click of the lock, eyes following your movements as you grab a change of clothes and your skincare items from your suitcase. he loosens the tie around his neck, kicking his dress shoes off and turning his back towards you. he doesn’t intend on saying anything, knowing that this situation is definitely not your favorite thing in the world. while he wished it was on his own terms, he liked that it was you. it was only ever you for him. you just didn’t know that. “chenle?” he hums in reply, shrugging off his suit jacket and throwing it on the loveseat. “you don’t … hate me, do you?” his head snaps up, brows furrowing, “what?” the word comes out incredulous and you bite your lip, embarrassment sinking in as your cheeks begin to feel warm. “i … i know this isn’t ideal, but for me, i know it’s not the worst thing in the world.” he blinks at you. you smile slightly at his dumbfounded expression, “i was angry at first, and i was so … betrayed. but, i’m glad it’s you.” you don’t expect a response, heading into the bathroom quietly. he smiles to himself once he fully registers what you just said. i’m glad it’s you. he was, too.
from your spot on the armchair, you watch as jisung rises from his seat on the couch, next to your brother. “i’m getting a drink, anyone want anything?” the rest of your friends and your brother’s friends chime in with their answers, and you wait a second for anyone to get up and follow after him. but no one does. you smile to yourself before standing, “i’m going to help him, since you assholes won’t.” your brother waves you off, too far into the video game to give a better reply. you sneak up behind jisung, sliding your cold hands up under his t-shirt and he jumps, neck twisting to look at you. “ah!” he says a little too loudly, and you shush him. you stay silent before you hear shouts of excitement and disappointment from the living room, turning back to him. “what if—” he starts to say. “as far as they know, i’m helping you with the drinks and snacks,” you poke him in his ribs and he jumps, making you snicker. you stare into each other’s eyes for a few seconds, enjoying the small moment you’ve rarely got since you all came home from college for the summer. at the thought, your face falls and jisung frowns, brushing a stray hair away from your eyes, “what’s wrong?” you shake your head, not wanting to ruin the moment but he insists. “i … i really want to tell him, ji.” you frown, watching his face carefully. “the longer we keep this a secret, the more he’ll be mad. i think we should just rip the bandaid off.” at his hesitation, you sigh and step away from him, making him take a step forward to close the distance again. “jisung, if we’re really serious about this, we have to tell him at some time.” you hesitate, “… are you serious about me?” his eyes widen, “what? yeah, i am. i’ve been serious about you since we were seventeen. i…” he looks shy, “you’re it for me. you’ve always been.” your cheeks heat up, eyes darting away shyly at his words as you allow him to close more distance between you two and press a meaningful kiss to your lips. “we’ll tell him … after everyone leaves, okay? i don’t want to hide anymore. i didn’t like it in the first place.”
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invisiblestringmm · 2 years ago
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chapter one
secrets i have held in my heart are harder to hide than i thought
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pairing: fem!reader x mason mount
summary: A one night fling that turned into the reason of your whole life, then a month of falling in love with him… until he ghosted you. Mason was never there to watch her grow, completely unaware of his daughter’s existence. It was just you and Lilian Maisie against the world until fate decided play with you and change that — now you have to face the consequences of your decision to keep him out of her life for almost five years. And also try not to fall for him again when he reveals to be the best dad to your little girl.
author: I hope you enjoy this as much as I do. Thank you for sticking around, it means a lot!
warnings: this chapter contains fluff, angst, mentions of a tough pregnancy, language.
word count: 4.879k
Watching her was one of your favourite things to do; the way the soft dark brown curls bounced as she swayed around the living room, the way her cheerful laugh echoed every corner of the house and those big, brown eyes sparkled with pure innocent bliss - Lily was your everything, she was your whole life and though, at first, being a young single mum terrified your entire being, she became the reason of your existence. It felt like a lifetime, but it was just four years before that day that you were sitting where your dad was, on that large and comfortable armchair, with your feet up as you stared at a tummy poking out. You remember how that was the first time after finding out you were pregnant that you went from miserable to somewhat joyous to know a tiny human was growing inside you.
FOUR YEARS BEFORE
Every little thing bothered you to the point you’d grab the first object in front of you and throw it against the wall. Your hormones were everywhere, the nausea was unbearable and you knew it was a matter of time until you’d find yourself with another IV fluid bag hanging on your bedside. Four months of what had already earned the first place on your “lifetime worst experiences” list, when it shouldn’t be like this. You should be happy, and thrilled, planning your days and making a list of potential boy and girl names for your child. But you weren’t, considering this was far from what you expected of your first pregnancy.
The long sigh that parted your lips clashed against the daunting yet peaceful silence that took over Foxwoods House the minute your parents went out for grocery shopping after you insisted you’d be fine on your own for a few hours and how much you needed it. Even if they meant well and were just making sure you were healthy enough to be on your feet, all the attention could be suffocating, though their attention wasn’t focused only on you. Though exhausted, you tried your best to focus on relaxing once your eyes closed. 
Breathe in, breathe out. 
Slowly, you felt lighter, your body finally relaxing on your dad’s favourite armchair, and, unconsciously, your hands rested on your stomach and your eyes shot open when you noticed that there was something there that wasn’t the last time you touched it. Avoiding any kind of touching, talking, and staring at yourself in the mirror had been your way of coping with your new reality, even if it wasn’t a smart way of doing it. It wasn’t easier, either. 
“Oh hello,” you whispered, poking your tummy with your index finger. “I don’t think you can even listen to me yet, but… can you bear with me, peanut? Hm?” Brushing your thumb against your skin, your eyes burned with tears. You wanted things to work out, you wanted that kid to be born into a healthy environment even if it included just you — of course, your parents would be there, but in the end, you’d be a single mum. The idea of it terrified you but, deep down, you could feel some courage sparkling.
“I’m still new to this mummy thing, and I hope you’ll like me once you’re here with us, running around… but I promise you that I'll do my best.” 
Finally, you allowed the tears you were holding to fall, wetting your cheeks as you sniffed and quietly rubbed your stomach. For the first time since the pregnancy test was positive, you felt love engulfing you most softly. You felt peace and a strong motivation to fight for your child’s happiness. You’d be their best friend, the first person they’d think of whenever they needed something or whenever they were happy, sad, or confused. You’d be their everything because, as you watched that tiny bump, you realised they were your everything too.
PRESENT DAY
The final whistle blow and the loud groan that parted your dad’s lips brought you back from memories of the early and hard pregnancy days.
 It wasn’t the first time you watched your dad so upset that England was out of another World Cup, but this time Lily mimicked everything he did and as torturing as it was to watch, it was also funny. Both clapped their hands in front of the TV, mumbling words of encouragement to the squad though they obviously couldn’t hear it. Lily was dressed in her England kit, one of the many your dad bought her along with Arsenal kits, as he was a die-hard gunner and used to take her to most of the matches with him. There was no way Lily would grow up without football being such a huge part of her life. It was part of her and who she was, it was in her DNA - even if no one but you and your best friend knew about that.
Watching the scene in front of you became harder when he was on your dad’s big flat screen, and though your daughter was mimicking her grandad, she was the spitting image of him. Her dad.
For the past four years, you’ve found yourself doing your best to run from him but Mason Mount was pretty much everywhere you looked, being Chelsea’s star boy and part of the England squad. It hurt you, it opened a wound that you fought so hard to heal but he had to come back to haunt you now and then. You’d turn your look away, turn off the TV, and ignore his face whenever you drove by Stamford Bridge - but he was everywhere. He was on Lily’s face, bottom nose, and all. And, as far as you reminisced of his laugh, hers sounded identical. 
It hurt, it cut deep, and it made you swallow hard the horrible sensation that effortlessly took full control of you - so you had to inhale and exhale at a slow pace as soon as your sight blurred. Mason not being there for her still made you feel vulnerable, and not good enough for your daughter for you often felt like you were keeping her from being happier as she was always mentioning how much she wished her daddy was around, and you had either to make up dumb excuses or distract her with something else. You’d often listen to her through the baby monitor, crying out in whispers for her daddy - it always sounded like she was praying.
The warmth of your mum’s touch, softly squeezing your arm, made you feel slightly better and safe. She didn't know who Lily's dad was, but she knew what went through your mind whenever you spent too long gazing at your daughter. Not knowing the full story never stopped her from fully understanding you - she was a mum too.
“I'm alright,” you reassured her before she could say something, and watched her lips form a delicate line as a reaction to your words. She knew you were far from being alright - with Lily asking more questions than ever about her dad - but didn’t know what to say. It was something she’s never been through and thought you were both brave and a bit stupid for dealing with it all on your own, when even your dad, who wasn’t as warm as her, was entirely supportive since Lily became part of your lives. You adored them even more for being so respectful of your decisions.
“I never judged you and I never will, and I still wish you’d talk to me as you’ve always done… including anything affecting my granddaughter,” your mum confessed, doing her best to hide she was a bit upset, but failing miserably.
You nodded, moving your stare from Lily to your mum. “I see him every time I look at her, and it hurts me.”
“Because you still have feelings for him?”
“I don’t,” you were as quick as possible on clearing that question, it felt like a lifetime ago that Mason was the reason for the butterflies in your stomach and he managed to end that himself with his stupid behaviour. “It hurts me because my daughter is being deprived of a life with her father around.”
“You can always find him and tell him,” your mum moved her hand from your arm to your back, rubbing it softly.
“It’s not-” you sighed, brows furrowed, as your eyes searched for Lily again. “It’s not that simple.”
“It’s always simple, love. As a mum, you know it’s always simple when it comes to making your child happy.”
Always the optimist, your mum pecked your cheek before leaving you alone with your thoughts. Not knowing the truth never stopped her from giving you advice that’d often feel right, but so wrong at the same time. If Mason was any other normal guy, you would’ve let him know the day Lily was born and you held her in your arms for the first time, seeing how much she looked like him. 
You would’ve let him know the day she took her first steps.
You would’ve let him know the day she screamed her first word - a loud, cheerful “goal” when Arsenal scored, making your dad the proudest grandad in the world.
You would’ve let him know the day she kicked a ball for the first time.
You would’ve let him know because you’ve always wanted Mason around, simply for being around and raising that beautiful girl as best as you both could. But there you were, doing it practically alone.
“Mummy,” Lily woke you up from your thoughts, softly pulling your sweater while curiously staring at you with her big hazel eyes. She giggled when you took her in your arms, sitting her on the kitchen counter with her little legs around your waist. “Are you sad it’s not coming home?”
“Well, baby… I’m a bit sad because grandpa is sad,” you watched her pout, nodding in agreement, as you played with her hair around your fingers. “Why don’t you go there and give him all the smooches in the world, huh? Maybe that’ll cheer the old man up a bit.”
Lily nodded again, a bit more cheerfully this time and you put her back down, watching her rush to her grandpa he nestled her in his arms as she kissed his face and squeezed his cheeks with her chubby hands. The truth was you were more than glad that the torture was finally over, with no more of him on your TV while your dad proudly cheered for England and, consequently, for Mason whenever his gorgeous face showed up.
For the rest of the weekend, you enjoyed the cosiness of Foxwoods House and that included long walks with Lily, baking with your mum, and playing poker with your dad while you shared half a bottle of whiskey - one of many in his collection. 
Although you loved London, a life away from the city’s fuss had always been your goal, even more so after Lily was born so you’d often take advantage of your parents owning that huge estate and drive to Cotswolds to enjoy a few quiet days with your girl. You could tell how much she loved, always bringing up that there were just two things that’d make your getaway even more perfect: her daddy and a puppy. Usually, you’d just give her a smile as an answer and kiss her forehead, but on your drive back to London you thought about how Foxwoods would be such a great place for some family time.
On Monday, you quietly walked into the usual warmth of your office, only nodding at a few colleagues who cheerfully welcomed you back after a disappointing weekend for football fans. You spotted Willow, your childhood friend, walking towards you with two mugs of the steamy coffee you always shared in the morning in each hand, and a smile splattered on her face - to which you frowned, because Willow had never been the one in a good mood in the morning.
“I’m guessing you had a fun weekend?” You asked, taking a mug from her hand and closing the door behind you as she made herself comfortable by sitting in the armchair by the window.
“You’d know if you returned my calls, Y/n.”
“And you know how my dad is,” you shrugged, feeling your body happily welcome the hot liquid. A large dose of caffeine and chatting with your best friend was always the best way to start the day, and you were lucky to work in the same place as he – just a few doors away as you two were responsible for different departments at the Swedish fintech you’ve been working for a couple of years. “No phones allowed when it’s Foxwoods weekend unless it’s-”
“An emergency,” she chuckled. “I know, I know.”
“So?” You raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to tell you whatever she had to tell, as you lazily checked a few emails.
“I was feeling a bit bored on Saturday morning and decided to go to Paris.”
“Willow, you’re so fucking random…” You sighed and she rolled her eyes.
“Met with Arthur there, and we spent the weekend together.”
Arthur, her longtime french fling, the idiot who only showed up when he wanted something from poor delusional Willow.
“Well, can’t say I’m surprised, because I’m not,” you moved your eyes from the laptop screen to your friend, who still had that same smile on her face. “Why are you so happy, though?”
“I met his parents.”
“He introduced you to them?”
Then, when she sighed, you knew it wasn’t as she wanted you to believe and she was making a fool of herself again for a guy who just wasn’t interested. This time, there wasn’t a single trace of pride for being right, because it meant your best friend was now hurt. Deeply hurt. You watched her nervously chew the inside of her cheeks, sipping her coffee and looking out through the window as if there was anything fascinating outside.
“Hey,” you called her, bright green eyes looking at you. “Lily’s ballet recital is right before Christmas and rehearsals start today. Come with me.”
Finally, she flashed you a smile; one you loved seeing for a sad Willow made no sense as she’s always been the happiest person in your life, always cheering up everyone and looking after people while you looked after her, so she’d be fine too. The bond you two shared became stronger when you found out you were pregnant, and Willow had been there since day one - appointments, baby shopping, days you spent at the hospital due to HG¹, and sleepless nights when it hit you that Lily would grow up without her dad around. There was no one like Willow, she was the sister you never had.
You wrapped up work a bit earlier than usual so you’d, for once, make it in time for your daughter’s ballet class. It wasn’t unusual for your mum to pick her up from school and take her to classes, and even so, sometimes you’d arrive 10 minutes after all the mums had picked up their little ones once class was over. It made you feel horrible seeing Lily there, anxiously waiting for you, and getting overly enthusiastic when spotted you arriving at the studio - she’d smooch your entire face, and tell you how much she loved and missed you.
“Mummy,” she called you, squeezing your hand as you walked to the studio with Willow on your side. Looking down, you smiled so she’d continue. “Ice cream after ballet?”
How could a wrong choice in life guide you to this? To her? Almost four years later and it still overwhelmed you, because you never believed you had that unique thing that’d make you a mum, but somehow, you managed it just fine — with extra help from your family and friends, unquestionably, but at the end of the day it was just you and Lily. And her fish, of course. The only pet you allowed her to have for now, so she’d start to have some sort of notion of commitment. 
“We’ll see about that, peanut, but if we go then it’s on auntie Willie.” Lily giggled as a reply, entertained by the funny scowl on her godmother’s face for she knew that auntie Willie would do anything and everything she asked. 
“I’ll pay if you eat dinner first, Lils!” Willow said, and Lily sighed in return, as if her life was the most complicated she now had a tough decision to make.
She remained in silence for a while as you chatted about work with Willow, an important deadline approaching right before Christmas break and she knew someone would have to interfere or the firm would lose such a significant client like Nike. You thought that was the issue of making partnerships with companies that had their marketing branch and the ideas had to match.
That gentle hand squeeze was there again, Lily looking at you with her big, brown eyes that softened your entire being. “Mummy,” she called. “Can Summer come too if we go get ice cream?”
Summer, the ballet bestie you never met because you always dropped Lily at the studio later than the other kids normally arrived, and she was gone before you went back to the studio to pick up your daughter. You only knew what she looked like because one day Lily came home with a cute Polaroid picture of the two of them, taken by Miss Albright, the teacher. Your heart melted a little at how precious that was, the two girls clutching each other, tiny chubby arms around each other and big smiles on their faces — you could even swear they looked alike, maybe that was a bestie thing. 
“First I have to meet her mummy and make sure she trusts me, so she feels safe to leave her baby girl with me.” 
“Just like you do, mummy?” You nodded, a big proud smile on your lips at how easily Lily understood things. “My legs are tired.” She said, completely changing the subject and stretching both arms at you so you could carry her but Willow was faster and nestled Lily in her arms.
“A ballerina with tired legs? Oh my,” Willow faked a shocked expression, hands on her chest as she gasped, getting a cheerful giggle from Lily. You loved how she closed her eyes and tilted her head back whenever she laughed - your chest clenched at her adorableness.
“I played footy at school today, auntie.” Lily covered her mouth with her small hand, letting out a loud yawn. Your heart skipped a beat for a second, sharing a look full of meaning with your best friend as Lily laid her head on Willow’s shoulder and closed her eyes. “Mr. Martin said I’m good.” She mumbled.
Of course, she was good. How could she not be good at something that was part of who she was?
Willow gave you a comforting smile, knowing how much this could affect your mood, as you walked in silence into the ballet studio; a smiley Miss Albright welcomed you, gently pinching Lily’s chubby legs with a kind smile curling her lips. She was the most loving and understanding lady.
Lily quickly awakened from her short nap, impatiently wiggling her legs in the air so Willow would put her down. She stormed out to meet her classmates after blowing you and Willow a kiss - you left out a soft gasp, allowing the blissful effect that your daughter had on you to fully embrace you. Lily was constantly full of energy, always beaming, brightening the room every time she walked in.
Like her daddy, who had no idea about her existence.
A soft poke on your shoulder woke you up from your thoughts and you turned around to face a heavily pregnant woman accompanied by, apparently, her mum, considering they looked a lot like each other. They were both smiling at you, and the youngest pointed at your daughter, who was now clutching a little girl.
“Which of you are Lily’s mum?”
“Guilty,” you raised a hand, eyebrows softly furrowed as you let out a giggle. Taking another peek at the two little ballerinas, you frowned at how indeed they looked alike. It was easy to identify that one. “I assume that’s Summer, and you’re her mum?”
“Jasmine, but you can call me Jaz,” you shook hands, smiling at each other. She introduced you to Debbie, her mum, and you introduced her to Willow who quickly engaged in a cheerful chat with the woman.
“I’m Y/n. It’s lovely to finally meet you, Lily just won’t shut up about Summer,” you giggled, thinking of the never-ending talks about how your daughter’s ballet bestie is the… best. 
“She’s Summer’s current favourite person,” Jasmine said, linking her arm to yours and walking you to where the other mums were. That sudden loving gesture made a soft smile curl the sides of your lips - you weren’t friends with other mums, especially the ones from school. They were so hard to bond and you missed having someone else - who wasn’t your mum - who’d understand your daily routine of wonderful moments and struggling as a mum.
It was easy being around them, your mum arrived at the studio shortly before class started, and quickly bonded with Debbie about the wonders of being a grandmother; how they both spoiled the girls and were spoiled by them. 
The rehearsal went on fine, full of the cuteness of 4-year-old girls in baby pink tutus. You were happy to be there, so you could see how happy your daughter was as she occasionally waved between clumsy pliés and pirouettes. Nonetheless, she was a natural, and you weren’t being too biased — as a ballet dancer herself, Willow made sure to point out all the right things Lily was doing. Watching Lily so focused on everything Miss Bennett said, all the instructions she gave, and how your little one did everything so clumsy yet so perfectly made your eyes burn a little with some tears. You’d still think she was the most perfect creature even if she wasn’t your daughter.
Once the rehearsal ended, you spotted Lily yawning and blinking heavily, but you knew she’d remember the ice cream. Sometimes, you couldn’t negotiate nor change the little one’s mind, and she got all that stubbornness from you. 
“Mummy,” she started, and you took her in your arms, pressing soft kisses all over her face as she giggled.
“I know, my little monster. I didn’t forget your ice cream.”
When you invited your mum and best friend for dinner, they both apologised over and over, saying their time off had been exclusive to Lily’s rehearsal and they had to go — your mum, to your dad, because even after 30 years together they just couldn’t stay away from each other; and your best friend, back home, because she needed to meet her dad for dinner. That was when, kindly, Jaz invited you and Lily for Italian at a place she loved; when your daughter looked up to you with her best puppy eyes and the biggest pout she could pull off, you couldn’t say no. Lily knew very well that most of the time she did that you’d quickly say yes, the dimples showing up when she pouted made your heart melt.
And you were also looking forward to seeing your daughter and her new bestie interacting as if they were two adults, which happened, for your amusement. Though you were engaged in chatting with Jaz and Debbie, who were two sweethearts, you couldn’t help but feel completely hypnotised by how Lily behaved throughout the whole time you spent at the restaurant; she shared a colouring book with Summer and they both talked about school, ballet shoes, and pink tutus. 
Bonding with the two women was easy, especially with Jaz. You found out that Lily and Summer almost shared a birthday, with your daughter being just a few days older than hers; that you both had big families although you were an only child and she had three siblings. Debbie quickly explained that the siblings part was a bit complicated, but easy to understand, and in the end they were all family; she didn’t get into a detailed explanation, though, which you didn’t mind for it kept you from having to share something just because they shared too, although you noticed some curiosity sparkle in Debbie’s eyes when you mentioned it was just you and Lily living in a brand new flat that had more space. Your father kept teasing you about giving his favourite girl a puppy for Christmas, and you knew it’d end up in more than just teasing so you’ve decided that more space would be needed considering Lily wanted a golden retriever.
“Don’t forget about Moana, mummy!” The fish, your daughter remembered, to which you just nodded with a smile on your lips. 
You watched Lily having her strawberry ice cream as if there was no tomorrow, and you could only hope all that sugar wouldn’t keep her from falling asleep right after you bathed her or it’d be a long night trying to calm her down from a sugar rush. Jaz was going through the same struggle as she watched Summer; you noticed her eyes widening a bit but she giggled each time her daughter hummed in delight with one spoon after another of her chocolate ice cream.
When you said your goodbyes after sharing the bill, and before you left, Debbie kindly invited you and Lily over on Saturday for lunch, so the girls could spend a day together, playing, something they didn’t get the chance to do yet.
“Jaz will have her mocktail and I can make us some mojitos,” the woman said; Lily looked at you again with her pleading brown eyes, blinking heavily as she let out a long yawn.
“We’d love that, Debbie.”
After exchanging phone numbers and Instagram accounts, you went in different directions of the street - you wanted to squeeze both Lily’s and Summer’s cheeks when they blew each other a kiss after a long hug. Happiness washed over you seeing that it wasn’t hard for your daughter to make friends, and bond, even if not having her father around clearly affected her behaviour sometimes, often noticing that she, sometimes, was a bit needy and clingy - but also extremely kind and sweet.
Soon, you were home and while Lily went straight to her bedroom to pick clean pyjamas, you quickly fed her fish and met your daughter already waiting for you in the bathroom; ready for her bubble bath. Even clearly tired, she chatted the whole time, telling you how much she enjoyed dinner and that Summer was her best friend in the world - she also thanked you for being an incredible mummy and allowing her to spend Saturday with her friend, which made you swallow a sob at how adorable your daughter was. Raising that wonderful little girl mostly on your own was tough, but moments like this were proof of the fantastic job you were doing. 
Thankfully, after properly tucked under the covers, Lily mumbled an ‘I love you mummy’ and quickly fell asleep. You gently pressed your lips against her forehead, getting a sigh from her in return as if she had been waiting for it; when you walked into your bedroom, flickering heavily as you yawned, Lily was already snoring lightly - you chuckled at the baby monitor. You showered, switched into your pyjamas, and decided to check on your social media once you found yourself after the covers: there was a text message from Jaz but it was too late for a reply, and she also followed you on Instagram; you smiled at a picture of Summer in a pink tutu and of another one where the little one was between her parents, a wide smile, and her tiny arms was over their shoulders. 
But you wish you had never met Jasmine, or that your daughter had never met Summer at all when you found a picture of her entire family at a stadium, all of them dressed in England jerseys and a familiar face in the middle was on your screen when you decided to zoom in on the photo. You dropped your phone on your stomach, feeling your mouth instantly drying and your eyesight blurring - if you weren’t already in bed, the weakness you felt spreading from your legs through your body would bring you to the floor. 
Breathe, Y/n.
That was Mason, and it didn’t take you much to realise who precisely he was. Or who Jasmine was.
Mason was her brother.
Not believing what your eyes just saw, you went back to scrolling through her Insta and you felt your whole body trembling now, tears filling your eyes and rolling freely down your cheeks; there were a bunch of pictures with him, of the entire family on Christmas, of him with Summer. You felt the urge to vomit, your heart pounding against your chest so loud you could nearly listen to it. 
Mason was her damn brother.
Mason, the father of your daughter.
Lilian Maisie.
********* words:
HG: hyperemesis gravidarum: A severe type of nausea and vomiting during pregnancy.
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gh0stlyfixation · 2 years ago
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5 reasons you’ve cried while pregnant
Johnny “Soap” McTavish
Simon “Ghost” Riley addition here
John Price addition here
Tagging: @birthofvcnus
1. Poor johnny got the shot end of the stick when you became pregnant, you were mean. Pickles were something you craved and sheathed you liked them before or not, you sure as hell did now. But to make Johnny's life a little harder, it had to be the McDonald’s pickles.
“I just need a lot of pickles, like a lot.” Johnny says to the women at the register.
“Sir, I can’t give just pickles.” She tells him.
Johnny takes a deep breath, “I cannot and will not go home without the pickles, my wife is pregnant and mean. Please, I need the pickles I'll pay for a whole meal, please.” Johnny says, begging the poor woman. She walks away for a few trying to see what she should do.
She comes back, a very large jar of pickles, “on the house. Good luck.” She tells him.
You nearly cry at the sight of pickles and to the generous lady at McDonald’s. Full on sobbing
2. It’s month 5 and you’ve been on a silent hunt for a puppy. Simon's wife had put her mind on adopting a puppy after she adopted a cat. It’s all you wanted now but to no avail, you couldn’t find the right one.
You sit on the couch sobbing. Wet tears drip onto your laptop that laid on your lap. Johnny comes in rushing to your side asking what was wrong.
“I can’t find the perfect puppy. All of them are perfect!” You cry. He’s confused, he never talked about adopting a dog.
“Since when we’re we getting a dog?” He asked, nope, wrong thing to say.
You sob even harder, “I knew you wouldn’t say yes so I wasn’t gonna say anything! Now I can’t even get a puppy.” You wail loudly.
Johnny is confused about what to do or say, he remembers Simon telling him about his wife’s random outbursts but he never understood until now, just gotta agree and deal with it, and be nice! Simon told him one day.
3. This sandwich you ate was stellar, everything about it was perfect, but as it got smaller and smaller your face frowned more. Johnny notices your face scrunching up. “What’s wrong lass?” He asks you.
Tears form in your eyes, “it’s just so good, I don’t want it to end.” You sniffle. At least you weren’t having a break down.
“I can make you another one?” Johnny asked softly rubbing your lower back.
“Just like this one? The same amount of meat, cheese and pickles, do not forget the pickles!” You exclaim, pointing a finger at him as Johnny gets up. As long as you weren’t incolsable, he’d make twenty more.
4. You were angrier this last term. You were miserable carrying the weight of your already 10-pound baby, “fucking hell.” You yell as the baby kicks.
“I swear to fucking god Johnny, I’m going to hit you if you ever put a baby in me again!” You randomly snap at him on the couch.
By now he’s used to it, he just nods and lays a hand on your thigh. He hears the familiar sniffle from next to him and he sees you have tears running down your cheeks, “Sorry Johnny.” You whisper now feeling guilty for snapping at him.
“It’s okay sweets, I know you don’t mean anything.” He says pulling you to his side, placing a hand on your belly and rubbing soothing circles.
5. Johnny sits in a debriefing meeting with Simon and Price when his phone starts to vibrate, the screen facing down. By the second vibrating sound going off Johnny turns his phone over and sees your pretty face light up the screen, “hold on, sorry.” He says Walking outside the door.
“Hi baby,” he cheerfully says.
“Well, I’m glad you having a grand time while I’m fucking not.” You yell through the phone, obviously crying. Johnny pulls the phone away from his ears and the boys laugh after hearing you scream.
“What’s wrong honey?” He asked, being very careful on how he sounds.
“I’m hitting every single red light on this 20-mile road and I’m so upset.” You sob into the phone, “like why can’t I just get a green light so I can get home quicker!” You whine with a broken sob.
“Honey, sometimes we can’t control the lights. Why don’t we do the breathing exercises together to calm you down, yeah lass?” He asked.
After finally calming you down and getting you through three more red lights, you were almost home. He walks back into the meeting when price speaks, “Our wives, they are crazy.”
“Yeah, mine is pregnant again, so we have a hamster now.” Simon scoffs, “mine is worse.” He finishes.
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solaris-amethyst · 2 months ago
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💫Did I even deserve you?💫
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✨Pairing: Vampire!Seonghwa x dead!gn!reader ✨Prompt: Vampire Seonghwa is still miserable many decades after losing his soulmate. ✨Word Count: 3.4k ✨Genre: angst, vampire au, soulmate au 🌙Warnings: talks of death, reader is mentioned but not alive in this story, no use of y/n, mentions of Seonghwa not feeding for a long period of time, lost of a loved one, mentions of how he wishes he wasn't on this earth anymore, grief, ghosts, let me know if I missed any warnings! ☀️️Authors note: Got this idea into my head and wanted to explore writing angst in this setting. It is very different from what I usually write and I have worked hard on this one and I am quite pleased with the outcome.
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The moon was high up in the sky, illuminating the forest in a light wash of grey. Highlighting the fog that is developing the forest and the castle making it look eerie and abandoned. Cobwebs dancing around windows and moss climbing up the bricks together with the roses that are climbing parts of the castle.
Both beautiful and dangerous.
It was said that sometimes you could see ghosts walking past the windows. Some even claimed to have seen a ghost in the rose garden. Walking around and calling out for their beloved but no response.
Young children were warned not to go there. It was dangerous and better to stay away from a place that would most likely fall in a few decades. The road to the castle was brittled with rocks, thick trees and bushes.
It was not a pleasant road.
Despite that there was a lone figure hiking their way up to the castle, dressed in a black robe. The figure was walking very slowly as if every step towards the castle was painful, making him hurt deeply. Despite that, he continued on with heavy footsteps to the one place he called home.
The owl up in the tree hooted familiarly once he was spotted and the howls of wolves could be heard throughout the forest. None of this bothered the man, for he knew that no one would dare to try and hurt him. A man of the night, a bloodthirsty bloodsucker as the humans once had called people like him.
Now he and his family were nothing more than a mere legend.
A myth.
Something humans wrote stories about without believing they actually existed. Sometimes the man wishes he no longer existed in this world.
It would be easier than walking around the world knowing your fated one was no longer walking this earth.
Unfortunately he was doomed to walk this cruel earth until the end of time as it was now.
The closer he got to his home the more dread and sorrow filled his entire being. He used to be filled with such happiness coming back here but now that was all gone.
The grand doors to the castle opened welcoming, sensing one of its masters returning home. The candles lighting up as he entered the hallway and walked down towards the place where he knew his brothers were residing.
They were expecting him after all. Like they do every year around this time when he gets back from his three month search around the world for anyone who could help him bring back his fated one to life.
And like every year he came back unsuccessful.
It was as if the world was taunting him. Taunting him for not being careful enough. For not appreciating what he had and for being arrogant thinking he could best fate and death because of who he was.
Seonghwa
Your voice.
He stopped what he was doing. Only the wind was blowing in from an opened window. The figure looked around carefully, not making much movements, for us mortals it would have looked like he was completely still.
He shook his head gently. It must have been the wind. It cannot have been your voice he heard.
You are no longer here he told himself as he continued his walk towards the room his brothers were in. He could not have heard your voice whisper his name in the wind. You were dead, no longer walking this earth and it felt like his heart was breaking into thousands of pieces every single day when he remembers that.
He remembers your smile, your laughter, your kindness. Everything that he once took for granted he now misses with such intensity that he does not know what to do with himself. It is like the joy he once had is now gone, sucked out of his body leaving behind a cold empty shell.
He starts walking again. He knows his brothers have heard him arrive and he knows that they are waiting for him. The closer he gets the more he can hear them. Shuffling around in the living room, living their normal lives.
Not stricken by grief.
The doors open once again welcoming, just like the front doors to one of its masters returning home and the noise dies down as he steps inside looking around at his family. They are all there. The first ones he notices are the two brunettes sitting together on the sofa. Yunho, Yeosang. Then he sees the them, San, Wooyoung. The latter holding a large book, open on some random page that they seemed to have been discussing before he arrived. He searched for the youngest of his brothers who he found standing next to the tall blond man near the table. Jongho. Mingi. He counted them in his head, he looked around, searching for the leader of his coven. He found him, standing near the big window gazing out into the garden. Hongjoong.
A part of him felt a little better after doing the count. For some reason he had worried they would not all be here when he came back despite the fact that they were always there. No doubt. They would always be here to welcome him home after his long journey.
The blond at the window turned around and when their eyes met he gave him a smile.
"Welcome home Seonghwa. We have missed you." He said taking a few short steps forward to greet him. Taking him into an embrace which he returned.
"I am glad to be back." Seonghwa replied even if it was only half the truth. He was glad to be back seeing his brothers but in reality he was not overly pleased being back without a solution to his suffering.
"How was your journey around the world? Did you find what you were searching for?" Hongjoong questioned even though Seonghwa suspected he already knew the answer to that just like the rest in the room listening in on their conversation.
"Unfortunately I have yet to find someone or something that could help me bring back my loved one." He told him, his shoulders slumping forward. He tried to put on a neutral face but Hongjoong was smart, he could see through his facade quicker than anyone else in their coven. His eyes had shown a glimt of understanding as he nodded carefully.
"You look awful, have you been feeding at all when you have journeyed???" Wooyoungs voice pierced through the air, clearly targeted at him and he could only shrug his shoulders opting not to look at the younger vampire.
"I do not feel hungry anymore Wooyoung." Was the only thing he could give as a response and if he had not already been dead the look Wooyoung sent him would have put him 5 feet under the ground as they spoke.
"You have to feed Seonghwa. It is not healthily to avoid feeding for as long as you have! Lat time I saw you feed was three months ago before you left!" Wooyoung stalked towards him "Are you telling me you have not feed in three months??"
They stared at each other for a long while. He knew all of them already knew the answer. It was the same every year and like every year before this year Wooyoung always grew furious when he figured that he had been neglecting his own health.
Again.
He could feel the energy around him tense up. The others were clearly not happy at all with this and yet despite that Seonghwa could not get himself to care about it. Had it been the other way around he would have been furious, furious at his brothers for ignoring their health and not eating but since it was him and not them he found himself often not caring. He would rather wallow in his grief, allowing the ugly feelings tormenting him to come to the surface in various ways.
"How is my beloved? Are they still safe in their casket?" He asked, voice cracking at the word beloved.
The very thought of you not being there or the possibility of something happening to you whilst he was gone was terrifying to him and he had to fight hard to stop the tears wanting to well up in his eyes.
Wooyoungs furious eyes soften instantly when he had asked the question and the other looked at him with sympathy. Yunho nodded confirming that you were still safe, still protected in the garden he had grown just for you.
"They are safe Seonghwa. We have made sure nothing could harm them whilst you were away." San said, giving him that kind smile only San could give someone when they needed it the most. Seonghwa felt like he could see the stars in his brothers eyes at that moment and it never failed to amaze him how much love and adoration could be seen in Sans eyes and how it was always something very real. It never faded or changed no matter how many decades had passed and right now he was thankful for it.
For the love and compassion his brothers were showing him.
"Why do you not sit down? Tell us about your journey? What has changed in the world since last time you went outside?" Hongjoong questioned whilst leading him over to the big chair, gently guiding him to eventually sit down in it. A blanket was placed over him, Mingi moving with utmost care to wrap it around him to keep him warm. He almost let words of protests out until he saw the worry in his eyes.
"Your beloved would not want you neglecting yourself like this." Was all he said with a low rumble before standing up and walking over to Jongho.
That stung.
His heart ached at the comment Mingi had said. Everyone had heard it. It was impossible for them not to hear him. They just pretended like nothing had been said but he knew they were silently agreeing with him. Agreeing with the statement that you, his beloved, who no longer walked this earth, would not want him to neglect himself and his health.
He wants to respond. To deny what Mingi has said. He has rationalized in his head that you would be okay with what he is doing so he can bring you back and the two of you can live together again like you did before.
The rest of his coven sits down all looking at him with curious eyes. Waiting for him to start telling them about his journey.
"It is all the same. Nothing has really changed in the outside world. We are still myths and legends. The only thing that has changed amongst humans is their greed. I would say they have become even greedier and distrusting than before."
"Humans have always been greedy and distrusting Seonghwa." Hongjoong cut him off before sending an apologetic look when he glared at his coven leader.
"I would say they are even more so now than before. I searched through every country on this bloody earth and I found no one. No one who could help me bring my beloved back. The sights I saw when wandering should have taken my breath away but all it did was make me angry. Furious that they were not next to me witnessing it all. At one point on a cliff looking out at the ocean I screamed. I cursed everything living and dead that day. I was so angry and I still am." Seonghwa spoke, his hands fiddling with the blanket as his eyes darken in anger.
His brothers look at each other in worry. They had hoped after many decade that Seonghwas fury and anger would dwindle down but it only seemed to grow with each year. Wooyoung looked at his older brother and friend in sorrow, he had been close to you, Seonghwas beloved, when you were still living and breathing. He understood the pain and anger Seonghwa was feeling but he also knew that you would not wish this upon anyone. Once having confided in him that you would want them to move forward to be happy, not to forget but to eventually come to cherish what had been rather than constantly living in the past thinking of what you could have done together if only things had gone differently.
"And I-" Seonghwa started but stopped once he heard it again.
Seonghwa.
He looked around. He swore he had heard your voice again. This time it could not have been the wind for no window was open.
"Hwa? What is wrong?" Yunhos voice brought him back from his thoughts as he turned to look at him.
"Y-you did not hear that?"
"Hear what?"
"Nothing." He shakes his head "It was nothing."
"Perhaps you should go and rest?" Yeosang chimed in and the others agreed, nodding their heads.
Seonghwa looked at them before glancing around again, he was sure he heard you but now since none other than him seems to have heard you he wonders if some rest would actually help him.
So he nods and he can see the other's shoulders drop down in relaxation as if they had been expecting him to put up a fight and argue with them about resting.
"Perhaps I should... but I would like to go see them first." He feels stupid, like a child asking for permission to do something when he is the oldest in the coven. He could do whatever he wanted and if that was to go out into the rose garden and visit you then he could without permission.
He stands up before anyone can answer what he has said, he lays the blanket back on the chair before he strides towards another sets of doors which will lead him back to a corridor and down a few flight of stairs before he can enter the garden.
The doors open immediately for him and he makes a point of quietly thanking the castle for opening its doors for him. He remembers the first time he had gone out on his three month journey. When he had come back inconsolable wanting to leave that room to go see you the castle had refused. Refused to open its doors and windows for its master to go wherever he pleased.
Not until he had calmed down and only the silent tears were staining his cheeks had he been allowed out. It was after his brothers had held him close, allowing him to grieve in safety and then being given a cup of blood to drink by Wooyoung to help stabilize himself.
After that the castle had always listened to him. And now he was walking with a sense of purpose, he had to see you again. It always pains him to be away from you for three months when he spends almost every single day around you. Tending to the roses or cleaning the glass casket you lay inside whilst talking quietly to you about his days or how much he misses you.
As he walks out of the door and into the garden he stops in his tracks when he sees something or rather someone walking ahead of him.
You.
He cannot stop himself before he rushes forward and just as he is to grab your hand you vanish.
"No... No no no no no!" He mumbles to himself, now sprinting towards the rose garden, you cannot be gone.
You cannot.
Seonghwa almost trips over the steps leading up to where you lay and he stops at the casket breathing heavily gripping it tightly as he takes you in.
You are still there. Untouched. Just like the way you had been when he had left three months ago.
"My beloved." He whispers and just like that the tears are welling up again in his eyes.
Seonghwa. My love.
Seonghwa gasps as he hears your voice again turning around since he can hear your voice from behind him. He had not expected to actually see you. You are pale, standing there and he notes as he falls down on his knees in shock that you are slightly transparent.
"My beloved. My love." He says while the first tear fall down his pale cheek. His voice is growing thick with emotion and when you look at him with those sad eyes he cannot help himself from crawling up to you trying to take ahold of your hand in his only to realize he is unable to.
"No. Please no. Please." He whimpers looking up at you as the waterworks starts afresh.
You have to let me go.
"No! No no no no please I cannot do that. Please I am sorry I cannot live in a world without you. Please do not leave me." He pleads over and over again trying to take ahold of you but he keeps going through you. His eyes looks almost wild as he tries everything to be able to hold you.
You can see how his heart breaks over and over at not being able to hold you and you know you cannot be visible for much longer.
I love you.
When Seonghwa notices that you are disappearing from his view is when he goes into hysterics. He wails for you to come back to him, he screams in fear, anger and grief and it echos loudly throughout the entire forest. He roars in anger, smashing a statue before breaking down again near the casket. Sobbing over and over again that he is sorry, that he wishes you would come back to him. He asks for death to take him once and for all so he can reunite with you.
He grips his head as he cries, wails and screams in fury and sadness. It is like an explosion he cannot control. Seonghwa is unsure of how much time has passed but he finds that he does not care. All he cares about is that he saw you and he could not hold you one last time like he wished he could. He contemplates for a moment to destroy your casket just so he could hold you in his arms again but he physically cannot make that move.
He cannot destroy your last sleeping place. That would be like spitting on your entire existence if he did, so he finds himself hurting himself and the statues and rose bushes around himself in a fit of anger.
Up in the castle seven figures are looking out of the window from the room they still were in. Hearing Seonghwas wails of agony and grief pained them. It was as if someone was driving a spear into their non-beating heart over and over again.
"I wish I could take away all his pain and suffering. All this grief." Jongho mumbles before leaning close to Hongjoong, hiding his face in the crook of his leaders neck as said man brings an arm around him to bring comfort.
"I never want to find my soulmate... It will only bring even more anguish to him. He will constantly be reminded of his own soulmate who he no longer has. I do not want to make him go through that." San says, tears building up in his eyes.
"You cannot stop it from happening San. Do not deprive yourself of the happiness of finding your soulmate because Seonghwa lost his. That is not something he would want. He would want you to be happy. You know that San." Yunho said whilst giving the younger a sad smile, tears also in his eyes as Seonghwa continues to scream and wail out apologies, curse words and asking for you to come back to him.
"Grief... What is not grief if not love persevering. It is proof of how much he has loved and cherished his beloved. He was just too blind in the moment that he thought he could best death and now all these years later after death won he cannot handle it. Because he has yet to fully accept that they are gone. He has yet to accept that they are gone. It might take years until he gets over the stages of anger, denial, depression and guilt. We will be there to help him through it all. I was thinking of going with him next year so he will not be alone on his journey." Hongjoong says eyes sharply focused on the figure down below.
Eyes slightly widening when he sees something or someone behind his brother before it disappears. He could have sworn it looked like you but he must have been wrong. It was probably the tears in his eyes clouding his vision.
It could not have been you.
You were dead.
Gone.
Forever.
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kimingyuslover · 7 months ago
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The call
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synopsis : you never thought that one call could leave you in a tearful night.
word count : 759
pairing : lee seokmin x afab!reader
warnings : reader is mentioned wearing a dress, angst (sorry not sorry), tears.
a.n : i feel like i need more angst in my life & i want to create a oneshot that will have the readers bawling their eyes out. idk to you guys, but i cried a little while writing this.
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the white mini dress you wore is adoring to everyone's eyes. you decided that it was time for you to have a date again, after your last one, which is 3 weeks ago.
the night ends so quickly, the date went absolutely wonderful, you have to thank Mingyu– who arranged this date, with lots of food.
"yeah, the date went so excellent! i think we'd have another date next week" you say as you start to open your laptop to finish the proposal you've been writing for ages.
"should i expect a barbecue dinner next month? you probably ended with this guy" Mingyu said on the other side, making you let out a giggle.
"i don't know, but maybe—
you can't figure the name of the contacts on your phone, and you can't remember whose this number belongs to, but you answer it because you think it's maybe something important?
you got cut off by the ringtone from your phone, someone calls you, "wait a sec gyu, i need to pick up another call" which Mingyu answered with, "yeah sure, call me again right after that"
"hello?" you let out.
"y/n," the other person replied. you know who this is, and you're planning to hang up the call, but before you can do it, he speaks again.
"i'm sorry! please don't hang up, i need to let this out, my hearts feels heavy if i have to carry this every day." he said, you replied nothing, and he take that as a yes, he can speak to you.
"i want you to know that, i still love you. i messed up a big time while we're still in a relationship, i'm sorry that i don't take the blame even though it's my fault, i'm sorry i neglected you, neglected our relationship. i need you to know that my heart still belongs to you. i tried, i really tried to leave you alone because that's what a good ex should do, right? but when i heard you already go on dates, my heart started to aches so much that it really brought tears to my eyes. that night, i had a few drinks because of the pressure my company put me in, i shouldn't lashed it out on you that night. i'm not in my right state of mind. my mind wanders around when you leave me, i feel miserable, i feels like shit, an asshole, a prick, bastard, and other terms that i used to believe i'm not one of them. i promise your mom to always protect you, but in the end, i was the one who hurt you," you heard him letting out a silent sobs. you don't want to cut him. you feel your own tears start to huddle in your eyes.
"i never made any attempt to make time for you because i think, i need space where i'm alone, far from you, and of course, i was wrong. i never want you to be far from me, i want you to hold me close every time I had a shitty day like you used to before my work schedule demanding every time i have and i start to distancing myself from you. i regret every single second when i'm thinking about what i did to you, i never deserved you, and you deserve so much more than me," now, it's your time to let out your silent sobs.
"Everyday, every night when i see my apartment, all i see is you. every corner of this building held it memory of you, i missed you, i missed us before everything happens" notices your sobs, he pauses for awhile.
"you don't need to answer me, i just want to let you know that every inch of me loves you until now. you deserve a man who can make his time for you, who can control his emotion better than me," he stop for a second, "who can love you better than i do"
that's your breaking down point. you try to speak, "seokmin, i'm sorry"
"it's not your fault. it's mine, it's never yours, i made us this way, so i have to accept it. " he chuckles dryly, and not long after that, he hangs up the call.
minutes later, you received a text from the same number
i'm not drunk or tipsy. everything that comes out of my mouth is proof that i, in fact, is still mourning for our relationship.
i hope you'll have a good life, away from me, goodbye, my love.
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ayyy-pee · 8 months ago
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𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 3: 𝑳𝒊𝒇𝒆 𝑮𝒐𝒆𝒔 𝑶𝒏
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Discord 18+ - Twitter - Previous Chapter - Next Chapter - Series Masterlist
Pairing: Choso x f! Reader
Summary: Things take a turn.
Chapter Warnings: Angst...
WC: 6.6k
Choso Art By:NC9__
**While not all chapters contain adult content, the themes of this story are targeted towards adults, so minors DNI please.
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No one warned you just how difficult university would be.
Your first semester of college has been kicking your ass in all honesty. Between your art projects, extracurriculars and trying to maintain some semblance of a social life, you’re completely burnt out. It was quite the adjustment from high school where teachers stayed on you about your school work and assignments. You'd learned very quickly that now, one was responsible for you but you.
At 19, it was a true test of your maturity. And you were failing that test quite miserably.
“I have one last project due and then I’ll finally be able to breathe. This professor has been up my ass all semester. I can’t wait for winter break and to be done with his class.” You set your bags down on your desk before you adjust your cell phone between your cheek and shoulder. “Sorry to rant. How are you all doing?”
A deep voice rumbles on the other end of the line with a laugh that makes your cheeks warm every time you hear it.
“Hey, it’s no problem. I’m just happy to hear from you. At least you’re letting me know what to realistically expect when I start school next year.” You hear shifting on the other side and you know he’s getting comfortable, probably in bed. “Yuji’s good. He’s also getting ready for winter break so he’ll be home most of the time. Eso’s been struggling with algebra, but Kechizu is surprisingly good at it. He’s been helping him study and–”
You listen closely, hanging on every word falling from your friend’s lips as he catches you up on his brother’s lives. It’s been a few months since you’ve spoken to Choso over the phone. While you’d keep in touch after the summer months until you were back on the beach, you’ve both been busy with your new normal. You haven’t seen Choso either, your first year of college being surprisingly more difficult than you’d expected so you opted for summer classes in hopes to maintain your GPA instead of taking your annual trip with your parents.
It was the first time since you were 9 that you hadn’t gone back to the beach. Your parents reluctantly returned without you your first summer in university, only after you had pushed them to enjoy a romantic vacation together for once. You remember the pictures you’d received from your mother the night they got into town. She was quick to spam you with pictures of your little pink haired friend who had grown even taller since the last time you’d seen him. She’d also sent a photo of all four of the brothers sitting at your dinner table, just as they always did on your first night in town since you were all kids.
It was reminiscent of all the summers you’d spent together growing up, except there was a noticeable gap where you’d usually be sitting, right between Choso and Yuji. As your eyes roamed over every detail, every way the boys had grown and changed, you couldn’t help the pang of disappointment you felt from missing out on this. You wanted to see them, hug them, be with them and enjoy your summer together. But you couldn’t. And it hurt more than you wanted to admit.
It hurt that you wouldn’t spend days and nights at the beach. You wouldn’t be taking Yuji all over the town with you and spoiling him rotten like you always have. You wouldn’t be climbing out of your bedroom window to sneak out to parties. You wouldn’t be working the summer at Panda’s, closing shop and sitting at the shoreline to watch the sunsets with Choso.
Choso…
Your eyes were locked on the tall figure in the photo and you found yourself pinching your thumb and index finger together, pressing them to your phone screen before expanding and zooming in on the picture. He was wearing his signature tiny smile that he reserved only for you and your family. Those same pigtails that have sat atop his head since he was 10 years old were still there, but that baby face was long gone. He was all chiseled jawline and sharp cheekbones now, even more handsome than when you saw him last summer, if possible, and your heart fluttered at the thought. 
You stared at those dark eyes that had peered into yours that cool summer night last year as he leaned closer, those soft lips that pressed against your mouth as you exchanged your first kisses with each other. Those lips…they consumed your thoughts. Those lips that uttered those three words that still kept you up at night as they echoed through your mind:
“Just one more.”
Heat rushed to your cheeks, to the tips of your ears and you could hear the blood rushing through your body as the memories played clearly through your mind.
The slight tilt of Choso’s head as he deepened the kiss just barely. The way you gasped when his tongue gently ran along the seam of your lip. How he sighed, low and deep when he heard the little sounds you were making and all because of him.
Neither you nor Choso have spoken about your first kiss since it happened. He’d walked you home from the beach that night, hugged you tight one last time and then you spent the remainder of the night clutching at your chest, desperately willing your heart to calm down.
“You still there?” Choso’s voice pulls you from your trip down memory lane and you clear your throat to buy yourself time to gather your thoughts.
“Yeah, sorry. I’m just…I’m sad. I’m glad everyone’s doing well, but I almost feel like I missed a part of that because I didn’t go back to the beach for the summer.” You fall back onto your bed with a groan. “I miss you.”
The words fall from your lips easily, though your eyes widen when you realize what you’ve said. While you had never been one to sugarcoat your words with Choso, you couldn’t help but feel as though those simple words held more weight since the kiss.
Choso doesn’t seem to be having the same thoughts, because he quickly replies with an, “I miss you, too.”
And just like that, the conversation picks right back up.
It’s easy with Choso. It’s always easy. You sometimes forget just how easy it is.
- - - - - - - -
That breather you thought you’d be getting for winter break? Yeah, that didn’t happen.
Could it be because your first year of college hadn’t gone according to plan which resulted in you ending the year with a lower than desired grade point average? Who could say? That wasn’t important anyway. The important thing was that you’d opted to take Winter classes as well. Because your life wasn’t already hell Monday through Friday during the spring and fall semesters. Not to mention the summer classes you’d taken earlier in the year that had kept you from being able to tag along on your annual beach trip.
College was turning out to be more of a drag than anything. Luckily, you had made plenty of friends here that made the fact you were missing out on these things a lot more bearable.
It was during the Winter semester that you’d met Iori Utahime, a beautiful young woman with a curious scar across her face that somehow only added to her stunning looks. The two of you had quickly hit it off, both wanting to take your studies seriously and needing someone to hold the other accountable for reaching their goal. Utahime wanted to pursue a career in music and while your majors differed, you were still artists just the same. 
Your similarities didn’t end there either. You shared core classes and unfortunately also shared struggling GPAs, which only brought you closer to each other. So when you found yourselves paired up for a project for one of your Winter courses, you soon found yourselves together more often than not.
And she’d introduced you to more friends as time went on.
There was Satoru. Satoru was goofy. That was the best way to describe him. He never took anything seriously, because everything was easy for him. Seriously. He was a genius who never needed to study because he just knew he’d ace his exams. Because of this, he was all about enjoying the college experience.
You could catch Satoru at every party, the center of attention everywhere he went. He was Mr. Popular. There was no one on campus who did not know who Satoru Gojo was. Almost every student on campus either wanted him or wanted to be him. And although you didn't share the same desires as them, you could see the appeal. 
Satoru was tall. Way too tall. And had the strangest hair color you’d ever seen– stark white and so messy. He claimed it was natural, though you had your doubts. In a way, his hair reminded you oddly of Choso, if only because you could only think about how it was the total opposite of your friends. And his eyes…they also reminded you of Choso. Because they were as blue as the ocean you’d sat in front of many times with him. As blue as the waters that had brought you to Choso in the first place. 
But that was where the similarities ended. Satoru was carefree, going with the flow whenever he could. He never planned for anything, he just let things happen. And he bugged Utahime in a way you couldn’t understand. It’s not really like he had to do much in the first place to get under her skin. All he needed to do was breathe within the same vicinity as Utahime and she was going ballistic. And Satoru seemed to love that.
There was Suguru, Satoru’s best friend. Or more? You could never quite tell with those two. He also reminded you of Choso in a way. Not physically, but general demeanor. Suguru was quieter, more observant than Satoru. He was thoughtful and kind, not abrasive at all; soft spoken in a way that made you feel as though he truly cared for you. And you liked that about him.
When out, you’d often find yourself next to Suguru. His presence was warm and comforting, almost familiar. You felt safe and protected with him and you knew that if Suguru was with you, you could just count on him to look out for you. You’d grown close fairly quickly and had established a friendship outside of your immediate friend group. You spent a lot of time together, but there was never any connection between you two aside from friendship.
And then there was the last of your group – Shoko. Clearly there was something going on between her and Utahime. But if you asked either of them, they'd quickly deny it. None of you were dumb, even with your low GPAs. The stolen glances, the touches they thought you all didn’t notice, the way one always ended up leaving exactly three minutes before the other decided to call it a night.
You found it very amusing, the way they thought none of you knew what was going on.
Their situation made you think more about Choso and how he –
Wait.
Why were you thinking about Choso so much? Why did everything suddenly remind you of him? You couldn’t think about any of your new friends without comparing them to Choso. Even after all this time.
After your last summer vacation, Choso had spent a good amount of time on your mind. But it’s been almost two years now. A second summer vacation was coming up and you were once again abandoning plans to go to the beach with your family and opting to take more summer courses to boost your GPA.
And it wasn’t as though you’d spoken to Choso much, either. Between your studies and his own life happenings, there wasn’t much time to chat. You carve out time when you can and appreciate the usual nightcap you both share every so often. But you're busy with your studies and Choso…well…
When your second year of college began, that was also when Choso had broken the sad news to you that college would be put on hold for him indefinitely.
“It’s my dad,” he’d told you. “Fucker just up and left and we haven’t heard from him since. Not that I should be surprised. I guess I'm only shocked it took him so long.”
You could hear the words come through gritted teeth, how he’d tried to hide the venom that dripped from each syllable. He was beyond pissed. You knew Choso better than you knew any other friend. There was no better way to get on his bad side than to mess with his beloved siblings. 
But you knew more than anything that Choso was disappointed, crestfallen even.
For Choso, getting out of that small beach town and getting an education was his path to a better life for himself and for his brothers. His father taking that from him felt like the ultimate betrayal. What could you even say to lift his spirits at that point?
“I'm so sorry, Cho. Fuck, I'm sorry.” 
It didn't feel like enough.
You checked in with him when you could. And he checked in with you when he could, but he was busy working. He’d accepted a full time position as a manager at Panda’s and had even told you a spot would be there for when you returned the next summer.
But it looked like someone else would have to fill the position this year.
You missed your vacations back to your second home. You missed the warmth of the sand beneath your feet and the smell of the salty ocean air as you all spent your days at the beach. You missed scooping ice cream at Panda’s and doodling the horizon in your sketchbook from your spot behind the counter when work was slow. You missed sneaking out to bonfires and having Choso toss you his sweater the moment you landed in his arms in nothing but the shorts and bikini tops he so hated.
You missed Choso.
That last night at the beach revealed to you for the first time that you may have feelings for your best friend that are more than just friendship. Freshly 18 year old you with almost no prior dating history hardly knew what those feelings meant. But almost 20 year old you, well it's been loud and clear for some time that this has slowly become more than some childish crush. 
You like Choso. 
The whispered call of your name pulls you from your spiraling thoughts and you look up to find Satoru’s bright eyes staring questioningly at you from across the table. You’d all met up in the library to study for your exam coming up at the end of the week. Of course he was checking in because you’d zoned out in the middle of your cram session to daydream about your long distance crush.
Except, that wasn’t why Satoru was checking in at all.
It’s only when Satoru waves his hand next to him that you see another tall figure standing beside the table. Your eyes roam up his form until they land on his face. And it surprises you when you feel your heart kickstart and begin racing.
Because you thought only Choso could get that reaction from you. 
“This is Kaito,” Satoru introduces him and Kaito smiles, eyes locked on yours and you think you can hear your heart pounding in your chest.
Kaito is tall, slender, but not in the way Satoru is. If anything, you’d say he has the same body type as Suguru. He’s lean. You can tell from the way his clothes accentuate his form that he’s fit.  And he’s got the most beautiful smile, teeth so brilliantly white that you’re nervous to see how brightly they shine in the sun. Gorgeous emerald green eyes sit beneath long black lashes and wow, he is really fucking good looking.
He politely introduces himself, running his hand through a messy black wolfcut as he takes the seat right beside you after Suguru heads to his next class. 
You all resume studying shortly after Satoru’s friend’s arrival. Kaito seems to fit right in, quickly becoming friendly with the rest of the group and you. But you soon notice that Kaito has taken quite a liking to you.
Again, 20 year old you is not as clueless as you used to be and the attention he focuses on you is giving you an insane amount of butterflies.
You catch his little glimpses at you from the corner of your eye, the way he’s quick to lean over and help you resolve an equation you were stuck on, the way he never breaks eye contact with you when you’re speaking with him. Like every word that leaves your mouth is the most important thing he’s ever heard.
“So yeah, that’s why hot cheetos are like the best chip there are.” You finish your rant, beaming because you finally got to tell someone your true feelings about this.
“Absolutely…fascinating…” Utahime comments sarcastically. She’d stopped listening to your rambling ages ago, nose buried in her textbook.
Shoko and Satoru had left to get refreshments so unfortunately for them, they'd missed the entire thing.
But Kaito, you’ve got his full attention. “No, really. It’s truly fascinating. I’d love to hear more.”
His grin has your tummy squeezing, that sweet tickle returning and you find yourself smiling right back despite your little epiphany about your feelings regarding your childhood friend just moments before Kaito showed up.
“Yeah?”
“Definitely.”
A loud slurping can be heard from across the table, effectively popping the little bubble that you and Kaito had suddenly found yourselves in. On the other side of the table sits Satoru, back from his trip to the cafe, guzzling a sweet juice while he watches you and Kaito talk over the rim of his glasses. Next to him, Utahime’s face is twisted into a look of pure hatred and disgust. Satoru ignores it.
“Y’all should go out,” Satoru suggests casually, like he’s talking about something as unimportant as the weather. “Talk about animal crackers or whatever the hell.”
Shoko snorts as she discreetly slides a snack over to Utahime while no one is looking. Except everyone sees it anyway because these two are so fucking obvious.
“Yeah, go out,” Shoko also chimes in. “Think you two would make a great couple.”
Your face ignites with heat, the sudden idea making you want to kick Satoru and Shoko under the table.
But Kaito smirks, eyes holding your gaze like they have been this entire time and he says, “I’d like that. Can I?”
You glance at Utahime who stares at you in surprise. 
“Um…can you what?” You question, trying to buy yourself time to think.
“Can I take you out? Like, on a date.” His response is quick. It’s so easy for him. He just spits it out and says what he wants. And you’re sitting here still freaking out just over Satoru’s suggestion.
“I…”
“If I bring hot cheetos with me, would that make it more tempting?” He’s so charming, and cute, and sweet and–
Ugh, what reason do you have to say no to him?
The sudden vision of pigtails flashes through your mind. And suddenly, the excitement you were feeling seems to fall away. And Kaito seems to sense it, because his grin falters a little, becoming just a small smile on his lips and he simply nods and gives you a “sure” when you ask him, “Can I get back to you?”
- - - - - - - -
“I met someone today,” you speak quietly into the phone, lying in bed after leaving your study date with your friends. You’re nervous. Probably because you’re testing the waters here. Probably because your walk back to your dorm after Kaito had asked you out was eye opening. 
Can you really open yourself to date someone else seriously when your thoughts are plagued by another man? Can you open yourself to the possibility of being with someone else when the person you want to be with is hundreds of miles away, in some little beach town?
Because that's what you've come to realize. You want to be with Choso. 
You just need to know if he feels the same way you do. You have an idea of how Choso feels about you based on the last time you’d seen each other. But that doesn’t make you feel any less like digging a hole in the ground and burying yourself in embarrassment thinking about bringing any of this up. 
“Oh yeah? Another new friend?” Choso asks distantly. He’s currently at Panda’s closing shop, so he’s got you on speaker while he completes his nightly tasks. You were happy (maybe too happy) when he'd answered your call tonight. 
“Sort of a friend, sure…He’s nice…”
You’re hoping he’ll take the hint quickly here.
But when Choso just gives you an absentminded “that’s cool”, you know you’ve only got half of his attention. And you want all of it.
“Yeah. His name is Kaito. Really nice guy.” And it’s true. You think Kaito is nice, but you think Choso is nicer. That's not to say you're not into Kaito either. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t interested in him. But you’d also be lying if you said you weren’t interested in Choso as well. Maybe more than you are Kaito. Because for you, you’re pretty sure it will always be Choso. Even though you've never had anyone else, you know you don't need to. It's Choso for you.
That is why your thoughts have been consumed with him. This revelation has been so freeing.
You just need to know if he feels the same. 
“Glad you’re meeting new people.”
He’s still distracted, the sounds of him pushing the chairs around the store’s lobby echoing through the phone. You didn’t want to have to show your hand so quickly, but you’re tired from a long day of studying and tired from years of beating around the bush. It’s been over a decade of your feelings slowly building for Choso and now your heart is ready to burst. You have no choice but to push this conversation along a little faster.
“Yeah, his name is Kaito. He asked me out on a date actually.”
And finally, you get an actual reaction from Choso. Not a grunt, not a hum in reply or some offhand comment. Instead, you hear him shuffling around, then the sound of tapping on his phone, likely taking you off of the speaker. His voice comes through, crisp and clear now.
“Sorry,” he apologizes through quick breaths. “What was that?”
“I said Kaito asked me out on a date…this weekend.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yep,” you reply cheerily, hopefully driving the knife a little deeper. Immature, sure, but at this point you’d do anything to get Choso a little closer to saying whether or not he has any feelings for you, if he wants you in the same way you want him. “Probably dinner at his place. Maybe a movie. Not sure yet.”
Choso hums quietly. “And you like this guy…that you just met…today…Kaito…” He says his name like he’s testing it on his tongue.
“He’s really nice.”
“As you’ve said.”
You’re about taken aback by the sudden bite in Choso’s tone, but you ignore his snarkiness. “I don't know how I feel about him yet.”
“Clearly you like him enough to be telling me about him.”
More bite behind his words. Still, you push forward. “I mean, is that bad?” You adjust the phone, moving it to your other ear as you get comfortable beneath your blankets. “You’re my friend, right?”
“Sure, but we don’t talk about stuff like this.”
And he had a point. Even during your summers entertaining Mahito, Choso never wanted to hear about any conversations you had with him. And it’s not like you had that many interactions with him anyway since Choso seemed to always be there whenever the silver haired boy was near you. And you had friends back home to talk about your school girl crushes that never resulted in anything with. 
Aside from your first encounter with Mahito, Choso had also never discussed whether or not you were ever interested in anyone romantically and you had never thought to ask him either. Granted, you only saw each other over the summers and during the year, school kept you both so busy, you couldn’t worry about dating. Your parents were never against it and you'd gone to a movie or two with people who had asked you out, but it was never serious. You didn't care enough to commit to anyone, too focused on trying to get into a good school.
In the summers, the last thing on your mind was asking Choso if he had feelings for anyone else. Most of the time he was with you, anyway. And when he wasn't, he was with his brothers. 
You'd never given thought to Choso…desiring anyone.
Suddenly, the thought of Choso with someone else makes your stomach churn, has your head spinning. Choso in someone else’s arms, hugging someone else, kissing someone else’s lips.
Oh, it has your blood boiling in a way you’ve never experienced before and you try not to sound too petulant when you finally mutter, “Yeah, but I want to talk to you about it now.”
“But why?” He sounds thoroughly confused. You try not to sigh into the receiver. 
“Choso…we’ve literally kissed before, but talking about crushes is where you draw the line?”
It’s the first time either of you have ever mentioned the kiss, now a memory that continues to plague your thoughts and your dreams. 
“Even weirder reason to talk to me about this,” you hear him mumble on the other end.
“How? We’re adults! We can talk about things like that. Besides…” you fiddle with your blanket, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth nervously. “It’s really not weird at all…unless the kiss meant something…more to you?”
You’re met with silence. A long stretch of silence that has you fidgeting anxiously. You almost want to laugh, say “I’m just kidding!” and hang up. But then Choso surprises you. He speaks so quietly, you almost don’t hear it over the thundering of your own heart.
“Did it mean something to you?”
Of course it did. What a stupid question. That silly little first kiss and those lips of Choso’s have been eating away at your brain for almost two years. Saying it meant something to you felt like the understatement of the century. You want to scream out loud that that kiss meant everything to you and you’re sorry it took you so long to stop being an idiot and realize that yes, the kiss was more than that. It opened the door for you to realize exactly how you felt about Choso. 
But even so, you still answer with a very quiet “yes”.
And because it’s Choso, who has never lied to you a day in his life, he responds without hesitation. “Me too.”
Finally! The confirmation you were waiting for! The kiss meant something to Choso, too. You weren’t crazy!
“I’ve been thinking about it since it happened. A lot,” Choso confesses.
“Me too. Probably way too much.”
Choso chuckles, which makes you laugh in turn. It’s the answer you wanted to hear from him, but now that that’s out there and your heart is calming down just a bit, it gives your brain enough time to catch up. And now, you’re a little confused.
“Wait. Why’d you tell me I should go out with Kaito?” You laugh again; half from nerves, half from feeling so silly that you used the guy as bait instead of just outright asking Choso how he felt.
The silence has suddenly returned and any semblance of humor seconds ago has now vanished. Now, you feel nervous again. Like your gut is telling you to end this call immediately. This is the calm before the storm and that knife you were twisting into Choso’s back to try and urge an honest response from him soon finds its way into yours when Choso says, “Because you should.”
The knife twists.
“You like him, don’t you? Go on a date with him.”
“Ha ha.” It’s all you can think to say, because it’s keeping the pain at bay for just a second longer. Only a second longer.
“I’m being serious.”
Another twist. And the sting begins to settle in.
“Choso…”
He says your name back to you. “Do you like him?”
“I like you.” It’s the first time you’ve openly admitted it to him. A few seconds pass by with no response, so you keep talking, if only to fill the silence. “Obviously you feel the same way or that kiss wouldn’t be on your mind two years later, right?”
Choso sighs softly. How can he be so calm and collected when you’re sitting here just now realizing that you’re shaking, nearly vibrating out of your skin.
“I like you, too,” he finally admits. “Have for a long time. Couldn’t tell you when it started, but it’s been for as long as I can remember. So yeah, I feel the same.”
“Okay…” You should feel calmer now, confident in the fact that your feelings for each other are out in the open. But that sharp sting of rejection is slowly starting to build, the knife in your back ready to bury itself deeper. “But?”
“Hmm?”
“I know you. There’s a but coming…isn’t there?”
Another bout of silence and you’re starting to lose your mind having to sit through it. This is not how you expected this conversation to go. And you blame yourself for the way it feels like your heart is going to beat straight through your ribcage and fall flat to the floor.
“But I can’t do anything about these…feelings.” He spits the last word out like it’s bitter. “There’s no future where we could ever be together.”
The knife sinks in.
“Why not?”
“Because–”
“And don’t give me some bullshit reason, either.” You cut him off. Because you don’t want excuses. You want honesty, like Choso has always given you.
“What’s a bullshit reason to you?” His tone is snippy again.
What is a bullshit reason? You don’t know. All you know is that you have feelings for this man who once pulled you from certain death over a decade ago. And he has feelings for you, too! He just told you so! You want to be with him, but he doesn’t seem to want to be with you even if he hasn’t said so yet.
Ironically, all this makes you feel like you’re drowning all over again, struggling to pull your head above the water but going nowhere. It's Choso holding you under instead of pulling you out this time.
“...I don’t know,” you finally answer.
“I do,” Choso responds tersely. “I can give you a reason. Hell, I can give you two, three, maybe even four reasons why we can’t be together.”
“Cho–”
“But I don’t need all of those reasons. I only need one – I’m no good for you.”
You roll your eyes. “Choso, you’ve been my best friend practically my whole life. I cannot think of a single person better for me than you.”
He sighs your name, calling for your attention, but you keep going. “And you know me better than anyone else. I know you better than anyone else–”
Choso says your name again, a little harsher this time. You keep on.
“Besides, you said yourself how that kiss stays on your mind. It’s always on my mind too and we can–”
“Stop!” Choso’s harsh voice cuts through your droning. This time, you can’t ignore the snippiness. Never, in all the time that you’ve known Choso, has he raised his voice at you. At least, not in anger or annoyance. Maybe when you were kids, because kids yell. Kids are loud and bossy and Choso was both of those things as a kid. He was always yelling. But he had never yelled at you the way he just had.
You’re so shocked, your mind so suddenly frazzled, that you can’t bring yourself to respond.
“Why are you insisting on this?” Choso sighs, trying to calm himself, but his voice is still coming out a lot rougher than it ever has in your direction. And it’s hurting you in ways you hadn’t known possible, your little heart beginning to crack within your chest.
“I...I just thought –”
“Thought what, exactly?” Choso asks, a dry chuckle following. “Thought that we’d confess that we have feelings for each other and then we-we’d talk about our futures, make plans to be together forever and ever and then sail off into the sunset?”
“I mean–”
“No.”
That’s all he says.
“No?” You’ll need more than that.
“No. There will be no talking about futures together, making plans, sailing off into the sunset…none of it.”
Those little cracks in your heart start to spread, slowly chipping away. That sharp knife you were twisting into Choso’s back is now lodged deep into your own and it’s fucking killing you slowly.
“I don’t–” Your voice is quivering now and you have to take a deep inhale to steady yourself. “I don’t understand. If I have feelings for you, and you have feelings for me…you said the kiss meant more to you!”
“And I meant that.”
“Then why?! Why are you doing this? Is this because of Kaito?”
“Yes!”
“ I–I barely know him! I only brought him up being childish. I was hoping you would realize you had feelings for me. That’s it! I want to be with you!”
“But you should be with someone like him.” Choso’s voice is quiet now, the harshness of it finally gone. “It wouldn't have mattered if it was Kaito or Utahime or whats the other guy? Suguru? I can’t give you what he– what anyone who isn’t me can.”
Now you’re lost. “What?”
“I can’t be what you need me to be. I can’t be the boyfriend you need, the support you’d need if I were to become your boyfriend…”
It’s embarrassing how quickly you feel the tears brimming along your waterline. How your heart shatters into pieces as he lists off the reasons he isn’t good enough for you.
“Look at my fucked up life. No mother, a deadbeat piece of shit for a father, three brothers that I’m solely responsible for and have been for practically my entire life…” He says your name, like a plea, begging for you to listen to him. Like you should take his word for it and simply accept it.
But you won’t accept it.
“I know all of that, Choso. I know you and what you’ve been through – what you’re going through – better than anyone else. And I still want you.”
Now you say his name like a plea, begging for him to hear you and your words. You don’t care about his struggles, about how he’s had to keep his family together his entire life, forced to grow up too quickly and become the glue that holds everything together. You were there for all of that up until recently. And even through it all, you always found your way back to Choso. That won’t change now.
The quiet drags on, just dead air hanging between you two and when he finally speaks, he surprises you. “And I want you, too.” He tells you, lifting your spirits ever so slightly.
Then just as quickly, he breaks you. Again.
“But I’m doing you a favor, so please. Just go date whoever you want, whoever’s good to you.”
“Choso–” Your voice breaks, your lip trembling as you try to fight the sob threatening to crawl up your throat.
“Please.” You hear the way Choso’s voice cracks in a similar manner. Like he has a sob to match your own trying to escape as well. “You…God, you’ve got your whole life ahead of you. Don’t waste it on someone like me. You have everything going for you. I have nothing going for me. Just some loser working a deadend job in the same deadend town I’ve always been in and will probably always be in. And I refuse to drag you down with me. I’m looking out for you…Like I’ve always tried to do.”
Your protector.
Even when you don’t want him to be. Even when you wish he wouldn’t be. Even when it hurts you.
“It’s not that I don’t want to be with you,” Choso tells you. “I do. Fuck, believe me when I say that. I would love nothing more than that because I've wanted it for so long…but you deserve so much more than this.”
“You are not a loser, Choso. Just…stop. I think we can–”
“I have to go,” He interrupts. “Need to finish this stuff up and head home. Yuuji has a project due tomorrow that I need to help with.” He’s quiet again, but you can just make out the sound of him sniffling, choking down that same sob before he says, “I’ll talk to you later.”
Choso ends the call abruptly, before you can even say goodbye, and the shakiness of his voice stays with you for the rest of the night. Even as you shower, numb to the excruciating heat of the water. As you brush your teeth and crawl beneath your sheets where you finally allow your heart to fully crumple. Even then, you hear the clear tremble of Choso’s words.
It hurts. This is a pain you don’t have any experience with. You don't know what to do with it. This is a pain you’d hoped you would never have to feel. And you never expected your best friend to be the one to cause it.
But you’re hopeful that you two will be able to patch things up. That you two will be able to go back to normal, even if things are awkward for a bit. Because you don’t want to lose Choso. He’s your very best friend, long distance or not. He means way too much to you for your crush to get in the way. You just hope you haven’t ruined things between you two.
Besides, he did say he would talk to you later. You take solace in that, finally letting sleep take over even as your tears still fall.
If only you’d have known that when you opened your eyes the next morning and opened your phone to send an apology text to Choso, that your text would fail to go through. 
If only you’d known that you would go to check Choso’s social media pages only to see blank screens because he’d apparently blocked you. You'd search through every account he has on every social media platform and find yourself no longer able to see any of his information.
“I refuse to drag you down with me.” Those words play on a loop in your mind.
He really meant it.
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sleepyhutcherson · 10 months ago
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wish i wasn’t so tired
on your way back home an argument between you and mike gets heavy when the words “this isn’t love, is it?” slips from one of you.
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pairing: mike schmidt x gn!reader
word count: 1.2k
contains: argument, use of y/n, miscommunication, angst, reference to marriage, not a happy ending? boygenius lyrics being referenced </3
a/n: tired of writing fluff (jk i love fluff) but i come from a miserable fandom (before i entered the jhutch one) aaand im so used to writing heavy angst. anyway, i should be working on my request not this but :p
What a perfect scenery to go with the intense argument. the rain angrily hits against the window drowning out any sound with the harshness of it. Unfortunately, not enough to drown your voice nor Mike’s, the rain mimicking the aggression and anger of your voices.
“I don’t remember,” Mike repeats, his hands gripping the steering wheel tight enough his knuckles turned white. He was speeding, trying to get home.
“I just want to know what happened! You came home with your knuckles busted, blood everywhere and you’re suddenly unemployed, and you won’t even tell me what happened?!” You're facing him but his focus is on the road (as it should) and there’s this dull, emotionless expression on his face that makes you feel alone.
He doesn’t say anything and for a moment you think maybe he won’t say anything at all. He continues driving, his gaze fixated on the road while you stare at him feeling so stupid. You close your eyes, wishing you could disappear from this moment. Wishing you could just apologise to him, but you knew better, you had no reason to apologise to him. You were just concerned about him, you just wanted to know why his knuckles were bloody.
You blink when you realise Mike is pulling to the side of the road, putting the car in park.
“This isn’t love, is it?” Mike asks, meeting your eyes now. There’s a sadness to them that you’re familiar with, you see those sad brown eyes whenever he’s overwhelmed, stressed, tired of work, when his aunt calls, when abby ignores him after an argument but never towards you.
And those words. the question. The genuine curiosity to his tone when he asked it.
“W-What?” You stammer, hoping that maybe you misheard him. But you knew you didn’t.
“I mean, all we do is argue.” You sit up straight, turning away from Mike. You stare straight forward, you wish the road wasn’t so empty maybe you could distract yourself by looking for different licences plates.
You swallow, your throat dry suddenly. “Then what is it?” If it’s not love then what it is?
None of you have a response which only makes it worse. You loved mike, you really did, you never doubted that. There was a moment a few months ago where the two of you referenced getting married soon, Mike giddy about proposing, and you were over the moon about the idea.
And now?
Mike loves you, he’s never felt so in love with someone until he met you, never felt more loved by anyone else but you. But recently, his job has been killing him and he’s only worked at it for three days. his sleeping schedule is fucked, he isn’t ever really sleeping like most people do, not in the way that one falls asleep to get rest but in the way that he’s going back to the same dream every night looking for something—or, someone, in his case. His aunt is trying to take custody of Abby and he can’t let that happen but God he’s so fucking scared.
But he won’t say any of this to you. Not about how stressed he’s been, how tired, how scared and sad. Fuck’s sake you don’t even know that he could lose custody of Abby.
“Maybe it isn’t,” You say, not daring to turn to look at Mike. “But can…can I at least pretend that you love me?” Your voice is small, ready to break.
Mike’s brows furrow, he can hear the hurt in your voice. He hates hurting you. He can never just shut the fuck up can he? He didn’t mean to say what he did, he really didn’t. “Y/n, I… I do love you, so, so much.” Mike reaches for you, cupping your face, forcing you to look at him. Your eyes are watery, full of tears that are ready to spill.
“You do love me?” You ask, looking up, your eyes locked with Mike’s. He frowns at your words.
“I’ll always love you. I hate hurting you. I’m so sorry.” He says through a clenched jaw, his words a little sharp layered with a desperation to get you to believe him. He pulls you in, peppering kisses on your face. it’s not enough, he thinks, you deserve so much more than this—than him.
“Then why do you?” You whisper, bringing Mike to halt. He pulls from you, staring at you with the most hurt expression you think you’ve ever seen. “I just…just want to know you—to help you, but you’re always pushing me away.”
He looks down at his bruised knuckles with shame, falling quiet suddenly. You know about his brother, about the entire incident, and about his parents but he never told you just how much it all affected him. how it still affects him.
You place your hand over his, gently rubbing over the healing bruise. They looked nasty even after days, too vicious for Mike. He loves how you touch him, he doesn’t care that his knuckles sting at the touch because he longs for your touch, desperate for it. He becomes more needy for it while you two are arguing, he wishes he could just pull you in while you were biting at each other, wanting nothing more but to be held by you. He would allow you to continue to bite, he wouldn’t mind if you continued to sink your teeth into him; he would take the pain, endure it even…if you just held him.
“I’m sorry,” he manages to say, “I wish I wasn’t so tired...” he exhales, trying to keep his voice steady. “But I’m tired.” It comes out weaker than he hoped, his words falling and breaking.
“oh, Mike,” you sigh, reaching up and now it’s your turn: you cup his face, your other hand reaching up to run it through his curls. “Talk to me. you know that’s what i’m here for.” You keep your tone gentle, stroking his cheek softly with your thumb.
Mike knows this. he knows that if he could talk to anyone that it would definitely be you. He just can’t. he doesn’t understand it either, doesn’t know why he can’t just open up.
He doesn’t want to talk, not really. He doesn’t want you to think he’s broken. he doesn’t want you to know how much of a mess he is, how he thinks his life is slowly falling apart right now. How he might lose custody of his little sister. How he’s looking for his brother in his dreams that are turning into nightmares. How he thinks he may be losing you, too.
“Can we just go home?” He croaks, his eyes welling up with tears. He doesn’t want to cry. He doesn’t want you to see him cry either.
You frown. You just wanted to be there for him, you wish he would let you help him, if that’s too much for him then you’ll sit there and listen. You just wanted to know what was hurting him, who hurt him. God, you just wish you could read his mind.
You frown when he pulls away from you starting up the car. You just wanted to help. You wanted to take whatever struggles he had, most of all you wanted to know what he was struggling with. What was bothering him? If only he talked to you. But clearly he wasn’t going to open up anytime soon.
You force an “okay,” accepting your loss.
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cirtusmistress · 7 months ago
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He Follows - Fixation
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Mahito is met with someone who is his true opposite, and a mutual curiosity blooms.
Mahito x Reader
Tags: Angst and Feels, Tragedy, Slow Burn, Tragic Romance, Mahito Being an Asshole, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Eventual Romance, Not Beta Read, Mahito POV, Verbal Abuse
AO3 Crosspost
Word Count: 1.7k
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You were endlessly fascinating to him. Though he had little interest in humans outside of his experiments, he couldn’t help but be enamored by your every move. You had cursed energy, so no doubt you were aware of his presence everywhere you went. And yet you never looked at him. Never spoke to him. You merely kept pressing on. Why? Was he not interesting enough for you? Surely someone such as himself was far more intriguing than any other human you came across day after day. He stood out, he could tell you that for free. Blue hair and covered in patchwork skin? What human looked like that! 
Mahito had only existed for a short few months. Though he held incredible intellect he was still much like a child. Still growing, learning. Everyday was something new, something fascinating. Learning how to use his cursed technique, interact, manipulate. All things that would aid him in his end goal of creating a world without humans. 
So one day when he was simply people watching - looking for a new playmate to experiment on no doubt, he couldn’t remember - he saw you. Helpless, innocent you. Walking along with your bag of convenience store goods in hand, and with a small gaggle of low level curses parading behind you. Though they weren’t stalking you. No.. They were following you willingly. Mahito watched from his perch up high on a residential building. How when you walked, they followed. How when you stopped at a crosswalk a flyhead landed on your shoulder. And you smiled at it! You weren’t a sorcerer, he could tell from where he sat. Your energy level was far too low. And yet, you somehow commanded those curses. How could it be so?
He had followed you home that day. Thanks to the quick mastery of his own technique, he was able to contort and morph himself into a Fly Head. Well, as close as he could manage. He joined your little parade and followed all the way to your small single bedroom apartment. You paid no mind to the extra curse in your home, simply going about your chores. Mahito watched with the other curses. Had you perhaps used some kind of technique to bribe them? Maybe some kind of cursed spirit manipulation? Finally you sat at your little coffee table and pulled out something from your convenience store bag. Ice cream. Those ones that came in cones, prepackaged and ready to go. You had four, and laid three of them out in front of you and the curses. 
“Go ahead,” You said with a gentle smile, “These ones are for you guys.” Once they had your go ahead, the spirits began eating your offering. Mahito was.. Shocked. Low levels like these couldn’t think for themselves like this. Let alone eat! And yet he buzzed there as the curses who looked like bugs and mutants and grotesque little things nibbled away. Making happy little sounds all the while. You ate your own treat with this.. Stupidly sweet genuine smile on your face. Then you saw him. The odd Fly Head who hadn’t moved. Your head tilted, so did Mahito��s. Then the other way, and he followed. And then you smiled at him, as sweet and genuine as it had been to the others. And something rippled inside him.
“Haven’t seen you before! I didn’t know you all came in different colours!” You laughed, holding out your own ice cream in his direction, “Well welcome. You’re safe here with me. Do you want some? C’mon!” You jiggled your hand in his direction as if you tempt him like a cat you found on the street. Mahito didn’t quite know what he was feeling. Why were you.. Being so kind? To this trash? These low level curses that hardly had brains! Were you stupid? Not knowing these creatures around you could suck you dry, weigh you down, make you miserable? It was overwhelming for Mahito. So he simply gave in and played along. He sampled the treat you offered. It was sweet. And he liked it.
Ever since that encounter Mahito had followed you everywhere you went. To work, the shops, out on excursions. Sometimes in the form of another creature, sometimes lagging behind as just himself. Having studied you up close he’d confirmed none of the lower grades were under your control in some way. Everything they did they were doing willingly. Why? Why did they do it? What did you offer these things that they could not obtain from just being curses? What did you have that he just couldn’t understand? What had you made him feel that day, and every day since?
He was pondering these thoughts at a park on his lonesome one day. He had tired of waiting for you to come out for your lunch break so he’d wandered off. He lazily swung back and forth on a swing, mind putting along as your methods all but tortured him. And then he heard your voice. 
“Hello.” He leaned back in his swing, looking at you upside down. You took a few steps back to make room for him, though you did not run away. “You’re the one who keeps following me right?” You asked, folding your hands in front of you. So you had noticed him! And here he thought himself invisible! Mahito rose his feet as he began to swing again. 
“Perhaps,” He mused, “Who’s asking?” Despite being curious, Mahito was still in many ways a childish being. Straight-forward answers were not in his wheelhouse. 
He heard you step around him and take a seat in the swing to his left, “The person you’ve been following for four weeks.” Your tone was still soft and your voice was like honey on his ears. Why had he waited for you to make contact? “I wasn’t sure if you were human or one of my little friends. You’re not like them.”
“You mean those curses?” Mahito asked, pointing past you. You glanced to see your ‘friends,’ all huddled together underneath a jungle gym. Smart enough to hide from Mahito. His energy was enough to scare them. He had grown that much in a mere four weeks.. 
“Curses?” Your brows quirked up, “I wouldn’t call them curses. They’re harmless once you get to know them.” You looked back at him. Mahito felt his own innocence being reflected in your eyes. You truly had no clue what kind of company you kept. Those sweet little things you so cherished were the bane of many peoples' existences. And yet you looked at them like puppies and kittens. What did you see him as then? What was he in the eyes of someone uninformed on the world of curses?  What was he?
“If you knew I was there why didn’t you talk to me?” Mahito asked. You for once let your smile drop. You looked contemplative. Did you yourself not understand your odd mutual fixation? Perhaps two strangers forever caught in one anothers orbit?
“Because,” You spoke but stopped. Your tongue dragged over your lips and Mahito watched so closely. Every movement, every blink, every twitch. The breaths you took, the pulse of your heart, the vibration of your very atoms. “Because I didn’t want to scare you. You looked so.. Lonely.” That word. Lonely. Mahito knew of loneliness. It often came with the very emotion that birthed him. And he had never once thought he was lonely. He was content wasn’t he? Doing his experiments on his own, finding other intelligent spirits to aid in his end goal. He was not lonely, he was never alone. So why did your eyes hurt him? Why did he once again feel compelled to run? Why was your kindness so terrifying?
“That’s the pot calling the kettle black huh?” Mahito jabbed back, dragging his feet until his swing stopped. “All these weeks I haven’t seen you interact with a single person outside of work! All you do is hang around with weak inferior spirits!” He stood as the words erupted from him. Once again, unequipped to handle these sudden emotions. So he did what children did in these situations. He threw a misdirected tantrum. 
“I am not lonely. Why would I ever be lonely? I have friends! People to talk to, play with, show my work to! You’re the lonely one! Too scared to talk to me for weeks on end! God you’re- You’re so pathetic!” Hate was something Mahito knew. He knew how to hurt people. And the look on your face said it all. Never had your unending kindness been met with such aggression. And part of Mahito loved that look on you. But another part of him wept for you. Love was his opposite. Something Mahito knew he could never comprehend. Not truly. He could pretend. Replicate it. Make copy after copy. But never could he match your wavering, unending love. 
He left before you could reply. He could have killed you. Make you into something cruel and grotesque. But the last shred of curiosity he had for you prevented him. Old sentiment. The first bout of it in his short existence. You were left in that park. And though you had just been verbally abused, your heart cried for the blue haired man. How could he not see how badly he was hurting? You could. You saw it in everyone. Everything. Every past failure, every hurt feeling, you could see it. Feel it. Even in those spirits you loved so much. Even in him. He radiated it. And right now all you could do was hope maybe one day, you could speak to him again. And maybe he wouldn’t be so cruel. 
Mahito couldn’t forget you though. Despite how he tried to bury his feelings. He knew you two were polar opposites. One born from hate, and one born to love. You were his foil. And he couldn’t move on. Not until he learned what it felt like. He was in his nature. He needed to know, to feel, to experiment. So after a few days of respite, he began following you again. Farther away this time, but he was there. Watching. And you kept walking. Waiting.
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oddinary4bts · 2 years ago
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The Forgotten Spaces | ch 5 (jjk)
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☆summary: you've been dancing on the same dance crew since your teenage years, and you finally have an important role in it. It feels like life is taunting you when your rival comes back after disappearing for a year, ready to tease you every chance he gets. Will the teasing turn into more, or are you going to take him down with you?
☆pairing: photographer and dancer!Jungkook x dancer!female reader
☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI)
☆genre: slow (SLOW) burn enemies to lovers, college!au, slice of life!au, angst (oop), smut and fluff
☆warnings: a cancer joke about eating a burned marshmallow, mentions about Jungkook's injury/scars, alcohol, curses, a hot tub, a game of Truth or Dare; explicit content: hickeys, grinding, fingering, jerking off, big dick!Jungkook, unprotected sex (please don't be stupid), choking; angst
☆word count: 15.7k (oop)
☆series masterpost here
☆a/n: SMUT IS HERE EVERYONE. I hope you enjoy reading this one!! Thank you to @moonleeai for her beta reading on this fic, I won't ever thank you enough, you're the best <3
☆Read What Was Hidden here, the fic that inspired this whole story, written by @daechwitatamic, one of my fav human beings on this app <3 It follows the story of Jo and Taehyung before The Forgotten Spaces
☆☆☆☆☆
For this meeting of our end of the world
It's with you that I want to sing
On the threshold of the memories the dead of today
Them that breathe for us
The forgotten spaces
Je t'écris - Gaston Miron (rough translation by me)
☆☆☆☆☆
Friday, July 6th
                It’s a strange thing, how when you’ve been working on something for months, the concretisation of it passes so quickly it’s like it never happened. The auditions were like that: you barely remember yesterday. All you remember is the moment you stepped out of the scene, breath ragged, and Jungkook high-fived the whole crew.
You don’t remember listening to the results. You remember the bubbling excitement as the name of the crew wasn’t said until the very last. But you don’t remember hearing the mention you got. The highest of every crew that auditioned from your state.
Because auditions for nationals are also a competition in and of itself. An innerstate competition, and you still can’t believe you got the highest mention of your level. It’s like a dream, and everything has been moving too slow, or too fast, for you to interpret.
Yesterday was a fever dream indeed. And the whole crew knows that it’s thanks to Jungkook. He refuses every congratulation you’ve all offered him, but it’s him. You wouldn’t have gotten the diamond mention without him.
Diamond… a perfect score. You landed a perfect score on your auditions to nationals.
You will get ripped up to pieces at nationals, won’t you? It makes you anxious, but then again, you’re not sure if it’s because you will have to perform at the top of your art in a few months, or because you’re sitting between Jungkook and Heather on the backseat of Hobi’s car.
Probably the latter.
You’re lucky. You were able to rent a cottage an hour and a half outside of the city, next to a small artificial lake. It was previously rented by another group, but they cancelled a few days ago, which let you have the cottage for the whole weekend.
But you don’t think you’re lucky to be sitting between Jungkook and Heather. Though both of them have been dozing off for a while.
  You’ve just been clutching your phone for dear life, because Jungkook’s head lolled to the side until he found your shoulder to be a pillow. It’s not that you mind it. You mostly mind the way Jiho’s been looking at you with the biggest shit-eating grin on her lips. She’s already taken pictures, and you’ve been planning her murder for the last fifteen minutes.
[2:37 pm] Jiho❣️: attached photo [2:37 pm] Jiho❣️: u’re so mad lmao [2:38 pm] You: delete this picture immediately or i’ll end ur miserable life [2:38 pm] Jiho❣️: 😘😘😘😘😘 [2:38 pm] You: 😤😤😤😤😤 [2:38 pm] You: and Scottie deciding not to come???? Even worse [2:38 pm] You: he’s a traitor😩 [2:39 pm] Jiho❣️: u’re just mad bc now u and jk are the only single people attending [2:39 pm] You: last i checked heather and bridget weren’t official official🙄
Jiho snorts on the front passenger seat, and Hobi throws her a curious look. She shakes her head to indicate that it’s nothing, and you watch as she types her reply.
[2:40 pm] Jiho❣️: bitch plz😂 [2:40 pm] You: besides u’re gonna share a room with me🥺
Jiho laughs out loud this time, and you wonder if the glare you bore into her profile has any effect at all. She just glances at you, an eyebrow cocked prettily. You know what that means: no. No she won’t be sleeping with you. You’re going to have to sleep on the couch, because couples get the rooms. Lance made that rule, and even though you were desperate to not let it take effect, everyone but Jungkook was against you.
You’re not usually in agreement with Jungkook. But for that you were, and you hoped the others would take it into account. You’re stupid for thinking that they would.
Jungkook sighs in his sleep, readjusting himself until he’s even closer to you. You gulp, glancing at him with a scared look on your features. You want to push him away, but he looks so peaceful you just let him be.
[2:44 pm] You: why is he sleeping on me tho [2:45 pm] Jiho❣️: i’d sleep on u too [2:45 pm] You: u can if we share a room👉🏼👈🏼 [2:45 pm] Jiho❣️: nice try but no😇
You whine, and Jiho chuckles.
“What’s up with you two?” Hobi asks, and you meet his gaze in the rear view mirror.
Jiho shrugs. “Y/n is just mad that she’s going to sleep on the couch.
“I can let her sleep with you,” Hobi says, ever so the pacifist and kind man that he is.
“Yes!” you burst out.
It gains you a whine from Jungkook and a glare from Heather, before she rests her head back against the window and dozes off again.
“No,” Jiho refuses. “I want my sexy time.”
Hobi burns bright red as you let out, “Ew”.
Jiho winks at you over her shoulder, and then you all fall silent again. The cottage is still at least fifty minutes away, so you steel yourself as Jungkook shifts again. He mumbles in his sleep and you almost let out a startled yelp when his hand moves on your thigh. He’s not holding you, just resting his closed fist on the top of your thigh. But it’s still way too much touching for your comfort, so you push him away.
He frowns but doesn’t wake up, resting his head against the window with a sigh instead. His mouth falls open a little, and you keep a laugh in. He looks stupidly cute like that. It’s a disgusting thought – Jeon Jungkook is anything but cute – but you let it slide for today. Maybe because you can’t bring yourself to care.
You eventually fall asleep, the low music Jiho’s been playing lulling you to sleep. It’s much deserved sleep after all the anxiety of yesterday, and you only wake when the car comes to a full stop, and car doors slam shut.
You wake up with a start, ready to fight whoever made the noises, and you realize you’re alone in the car. With Jungkook, who has a tight-lipped smile on his lips when your gazes meet.
“You drool when you sleep,” he tells you, and you furrow your brow as you wipe your cheek.
Sure enough, you were drooling. It takes you a few seconds to realize he’s got a wet spot on his shoulder, and you reckon you woke up with your head rested against something. Something that suspiciously felt like Jungkook’s shoulders.
“Mmh,” you sleepily let out. “Sorry.”
He smiles. Sweetly. It starts with his eyes, as you’ve realized it usually happens when he smiles genuinely. “It’s all good. You looked peaceful, I didn’t want to wake you up.”
You echo his smile, nodding your head once before stretching your arms. It makes you yawn, which in turn makes him laugh. “What?” you ask.
“You slept like thirty minutes and you’re still tired.”
You glare at him. “I’m always tired.”
“Right.”
It’s a weird conversation, and it’s even weirder that you’re still sitting in the car. So you motion towards the door as you unbuckle your seatbelt, and Jungkook has a light tint on his cheeks as he nods and opens the door before stepping out. He stretches when he’s outside, and you scooch out of the car, imitating him as soon as your feet touch the ground.
“Gosh,” you let out, and he laughs.
“Yeah.”
You glance at him, and then your gaze slides to the landscape surrounding you. To the picturesque cottage that looks even better than what you had pictured, all made of logs. It looks straight out of a fairy tale. It’s cozied up in a little forest, and the wind that picked up earlier today still makes the leaves dance. It’s loud, like the sound of waves at sea, but it’s more constant. It doesn’t recede, and it creates a background soundtrack to the summer afternoon. The sun is still high in the sky, shining bright with not even a single cloud in sight. The air smell of the woods, and bugs fly around aimlessly, or following an aim only they know. The car is parked in the shadows, but you still feel the heat, and you’re glad there’s a breeze.
You take it all in with a bright smile on your lips, and it only grows wider when Jiho and Hobi rush out of the cottage.
“This is heaven,” Jiho declares. “I’m never leaving this place.”
“She says that because she saw the hot tub from the balcony,” Hobi says as he motions over his shoulder to the cottage.
It makes you laugh, and it turns into a giggle as Jiho grabs your hand and pulls you behind her. “While you men unpack the car we’re going to take a walk to the lake.”
“How is that fair?” Jungkook complains, but he’s grinning when you meet his gaze over your shoulder. You offer him an apologetic shrug of your shoulders, and he just chuckles before turning towards the car.
Lance’s car is pulling up the dirt road when you turn on the side of the house. You wave at Chaeyeon and him, but they don’t notice you as Jiho only keeps pulling you behind her.
“Look at this!” she says giddily as you walk to the back of the house. “It’s so pretty.”
It really is. The house is nestled right next to a small lake, with a few trees separating the building and the water. There’s a hot tub on the right, and a small rock path that leads to a quay in the water. You notice a fireplace area, though it’s not a circle of rocks like you had imagined, but an actual metal fireplace with a door that’s currently swinging on its hinges in the wind. Logs are piled beside it, just waiting for someone to ignite a fire.
Jiho’s giddiness is contagious, and you find yourself giggling as she pulls you towards the lake. There’s a small shed down by the lake, and a look through the window shows you two kayaks. It makes you even giddier, and you clap your hands before turning towards the quay.
The quay moves as you step on it. Fortunately, the water is not very deep and the lake is relatively calm even with the wind. You’re able to make it to the end of it without it shaking too much, and Jiho closes her eyes as she tilts her head back. “We should come here every weekend.”
You laugh. “As fun as that sounds like, we can’t skip practice every weekend.”
“We can practice here,” she points out, shrugging.
She’s not wrong, so you just smile and nod before imitating her, taking in the sun. But you feel a little bad for those inside that are setting up the house, so it’s not even a minute later when you say, “We should go help the others”.
Jiho whines, and she opens one eye to look at you. You cock an eyebrow and she rolls her eyes. “Fine.”
You walk back up the little slope until you reach the cottage. When you make it to the front, you see that a third car has arrived: Jin, Valeria, Taehyung, Jo and Bridget are all stretching outside of it. Jo notices you and waves happily.
You think it’s funny that she is here. It’s weird to think that even though she isn’t part of the dance crew, she’s still made her way into the friend group. Like Jin, Valeria and Taehyung, you reckon. Though you barely know Jin and Valeria. But you needed more people to rent this cottage, and considering it was the only one available, you didn’t really have a choice.
You move to their group to greet them, and then you help them unpack the car. You also help Lance, who was the one in charge with food and speakers for music. It takes a moment, but soon enough everything is settled. You’re all already hungry though, so you prepare the first meal of the weekend.
Well, you watch Jungkook, Jin, Valeria and Heather prepare it. You’re on washing dishes duty though, but you’ll only do that after you eat.
It’s fun. Cheerful. A little bubble outside of the seriousness of practice and nationals and auditions that you really can’t remember, can you? The light atmosphere is much needed, and you drink as you eat, and drink some more after washing the dishes. Then you all set out to explore outside, and Lance and Jin have a fire running by the time Jungkook figures out how to get the hot tub working. It’s still hot outside though, so you decide to wait before going into the tub, but Bridget, Heather, Chaeyeon and Jo all move to it. You stay with Jiho and the others by the fire, listening to the cracking of the logs as you talk and talk and talk.
There’s laughter. A lot of it. Laughter that turns more drunk as the evening unfolds, and the sun has set by the time you get up from your spot to go pee inside. The girls have come out of the tub, and they’re taking turns in the shower upstairs, so you head to the downstairs bathroom. You’re on the way out when Jo stops you.
She says your name, offering you a bright smile. “Are you in for some shots before we head outside? I’m taking some with the others.”
Sure enough, Chaeyeon, Bridget and Heather all look at you expectantly, and you don’t hesitate even a second before agreeing. You go outside with Jo and Chaeyeon after, as you all laugh when Bridget and Heather say they’ll take a shower together. You figure it’s better to let them have the house for a time, and you all join the rest of the group by the fire.
They’ve started playing some music and singing over it, and you laugh as Hobi belts a tune as if his life depends on it. Jungkook joins him and your eyes widen a little as you hear his voice.
Jungkook can sing. His voice is melodious, clear and full and round. It’s beautiful, the voice of an angel. You feel struck as you watch him, and he bursts out laughing when Hobi messes up the lyrics next to him.
You’ve stopped walking. And Jungkook meets your gaze, offering you a small smile before returning to the action around him. It strikes you, in a weird kind of way. It makes a weird feeling form in your chest, that same feeling you felt last week when you saved his number in your phone.
It’s not a feeling you like. So you push it aside as you join Jiho in her chair, sitting on her lap and stealing the bottle of soju she’s been drinking from. You need more alcohol in your blood, and soon.
It’s night by the time the group moves again. Some of them decide to go to the lake, but you stay by the fire as Valeria and Jin bring marshmallows out. Heather and Bridget never came out after their shower, and you don’t quite feel like going inside to find them.
Instead, you start roasting marshmallows, and soon enough you’re the elected marshmallow roaster, because you’re the only one who’s managed to not make them catch fire. You make some for everyone, before roasting one for yourself.
Since Jungkook has been the one feeding the fire for the last hour, it also makes it so you’re sitting next to him. The conversation is lively around you, but you’ve noticed he’s silent. He’s just staring at the fire, and it casts a dancing glow on his features.
He notices you looking at him, and his features soften as he turns to look at you. And then he bursts out laughing, and you do too as you notice your marshmallow has caught fire.
“Oops,” you mumble.
“I know I’m pretty but you should focus on the job at hand,” he teases you.
You punch him in the shoulder, before blowing on the fire until it dies. “Still edible if you ask me,” you say as you eye the burned thing on the branch you’ve been using since you started roasting marshmallows.
“Oh, clearly,” he agrees. “If you want to get cancer, that is.”
You glare at him, and he only laughs. “What’s life without a little risk?”
“Boring,” he answers wisely, face falling serious, though he only manages to keep the serious look for a few seconds before he’s breaking into yet another fit of laughter. One you echo before taking a bite of the marshmallow. You hum in delight, and Jungkook says, “What the fuck was that?”
You have the decency to blush. “What?”
“You’re not really the kind of person that moans when they eat good food?”
“I wasn’t moaning,” you let out outrageously.
It gains everybody’s attention around the fire, and Jungkook laughs at you. You shove him in the shoulder again, but he annoyingly barely moves in his chair.
“Who’s moaning?” Lance asks.
Both you and Jungkook look startled for a time, and you glare at him. “No one, Jeon’s just being a little shit.”
“What’s new?” Jiho jokes, and everyone laughs.
The trio that went to the lake comes back – Taehyung, Jo and Hobi. Jo scans the people around the fire, brows knitting together.
“Where are Bridget and Heather?”
The whole group laughs. “They never came out,” Chaeyeon admits. “I’d advise to not go looking for them.”
Jo snorts. “Oof yeah, that’s a no for me.”
It’s not even that funny, yet everyone laughs as the trio settles around the fireplace. Hobi and Jiho share a chair, and you realize there’s no chair for Jo and Taehyung. You’re about to offer yours when they just sit directly in the grass, giggling like the two idiots in love that they are. They lie down after a few seconds, and Jo points up at the sky.
It makes you look up, and you suddenly feel very small, under the immensity of the night sky. It sobers you up, just a little, and you sit back in the chair to get a good look. You admire the stars and constellations, searching for those you know. It leads to everyone doing so, and it also creates a calmer atmosphere, until half the group is dozing off in their chair.
Someone changed the music to softer tunes, and you really listen to the night sounds now, as the melody entwines with the cracking of the logs. Soon enough, Jin and Valeria decide to go to bed. Jungkook immediately teases the older guy, saying that only elderly people go to bed so early. Jin just throws a marshmallow at Jungkook, who receives it right on the forehead. He looks stunned, and he raises his middle finger at Jin as he just laughs where he’s leading Valeria inside. Chaeyeon and Lance are the next to go, and your gaze trails them until they stop to kiss. You give them privacy then, focusing on the fire instead.
It leaves only you, Jungkook, Jo, Taehyung, Jiho and Hobi by the fire, and you sigh in content as Jungkook throws another log into the fire.
“Last one, I assume?” he lets out.
The group mumbles in agreement.
“We’ll party harder tomorrow,” Jiho promises before yawning.
It makes everyone yawn, and you laugh tired laughs as you watch the flames licking up the log.
“We should set up a beer pong table,” you suggest.
Taehyung seems to spark to life at the idea. “I’m so in for some beer pong.”
“What about a tournament?” Jungkook proposes. “Losers have to jump in the lake.”
Jiho winces. “I hope Hobi’s good because there’s no way in hell I’m jumping in the lake.”
“I got you, babe.”
You notice them exchanging a long look. It’s filled with love, grossly so, and you roll your eyes before settling your gaze on the stars above once more. You let out a happy yelp when a shooting star crosses the sky.
“Oh my God!”
Jo is just as happy as you are. “Oh shit!” she echoes. “We have to make a wish.”
You laugh, nodding your head repeatedly. The four others just look at you curiously, before Jo explains that there was a shooting star.
Everyone’s eyes are back on the night sky in no time, and you reckon you might fall asleep like this.
Stargazing, and wishing that you’ll find your own person soon enough.
Saturday, July 7th
                “I’ll kill you.”
Jungkook smiles, and the breeze of the afternoon catches in his hair, making a strand fall in his eyes. He pushes his hair back. “I’d like to see you try.”
Something changed. He knows something changed between the two of you. It’s exciting, in a childish kind of way. He feels young next to you, and he’s been following you around all day, claiming that he wants to avoid the couples. Which is not entirely a lie, but he mostly wants to be around you.
It’s a new feeling. Or almost entirely new, because he felt like that around you once before. The night after he told you about his accident. He’s pushed that away since then, but it seems being here, at this cottage in the middle of nature, brings it out.
He’s been failing at pushing it away since last night, and he reckons he doesn’t even want to try anymore.
You put your hands on your hips, tilting your head to the side. Your hair sways in the wind, and he wants to brush it behind your shoulder. He resists, because he’s pretty sure you’ll bite his head off if he does.
“You’re the one that suggested kayaking.”
He did. But throwing you in the water seems like twice the fun, so he’s been teasing you about it as you stand next to the shed.
“Maybe it was just a trap?” he says, winking at you. He takes a step towards you, and you immediately take a step back.           
Jo and Taehyung are sitting on the quay, watching the water and talking in hushed tones. Jungkook feels Jo’s gaze on him, and he resists glancing at her.
He knows what she thinks. She’s made it pretty clear in the last week. Maybe it’s contributed to the softness in him whenever he watches you.
Maybe.
“You’re annoying.”
“But yet you came with me?”
You squint your eyes, shaking your head. “Not with you. I came to kayak.”
“Right.”
“I swear.”
He bursts out laughing, and it’s his turn to shake his head. “Of course, of course.”
“Why are you…” you start before letting out a strangled sound. “I’m going back to the house.”
“No!” he immediately says, a little louder than necessary. This time, both Taehyung and Jo look at you two. “I’m just teasing, let me bring the kayak out.”
He’s blushing. He feels it coming up slowly from deep within his chest, so he quickly turns towards the shed and goes in. A few spiders are hiding in their webs, and he swats one away from the first kayak. He almost hesitates to leave it in just to spook you, but he doesn’t really want to spook you right now. Not when his heart is beating just a little quicker.
He doesn’t know if he likes it. But he’ll roll with it for the rest of the weekend, because he doesn’t think he’ll have the opportunity to do so after that.
He brings out the two kayaks before going back for the paddles, and a moment later he’s helping you to sit in yours, holding your hand while you step in it before sitting. Jo and Taehyung are watching now, barely even talking, and Jungkook can’t wait until you’ve moved away from the quay.
He hates the way the couple has been watching you both. It feels like he’s under pressure, and he knows he doesn’t do well under pressure. Except when it came to dance, but that’s long gone now.
He gets into his own kayak as you’re already starting to move away.
“Bye losers,” you say towards Taehyung and Jo.
“Try not to drown,” Jo replies as she waves you off.
You laugh, a crystal clear laugh that makes Jungkook very aware of how Taehyung is looking at him. He catches his older friend’s gaze, furrowing his brow.
Taehyung glances down at Jungkook’s attire – a pair of pants. He looks like he wants to say something, and Jungkook knows what.
He’s not going to wear shorts. Not when it’d put his scar on display to the whole crew. He hasn’t gotten the courage to tell everyone yet, and he doesn’t want to be forced to explain anything. He just wants to focus on being in the present, because he hasn’t done that in a while.
So he glares at Taehyung, clenching his jaw. Taehyung sighs before looking away. Just like that the moment passes, and Jungkook settles in his kayak before quickly following you.
“Is it a race or something?” he asks as he moves closer.
You look at him over your shoulder, a bright smile on your lips that turns mischievous as soon as your gaze finds his. “It is and you’re losing.”
Now, bringing out his competitive side is a bad idea, but that’s who you are, isn’t it?
Jungkook pushes the paddle in the water harder, accelerating his rhythm. It makes you screech, and you quickly do the same. Your lean arms are nothing against his though, and he’s caught up to you in no time. Unable to resist, he splashes water on you.
“Jungkook!” you scream. “I’m trying not to wet my hair!”
“Oh are you?” He does it again, this time purposefully aiming for your head. You dodge but to no avail.
“I’ll murder you,” you threaten, and you send water flying his way.
He barely gets any on himself, and he cocks an eyebrow arrogantly. “Is that the best you can do?”
It pisses you off. He sees it in the way resolve fills your face, and he’s not surprised he’s thoroughly drenched by the time you finally stop. He’s just accepted defeat and let you splash him as he laughs. You laugh too, and he reckons it’s his favourite thing about you.
The way you laugh when you’re being a brat. It’s endearing.
He’s endeared by you. That’s what the feeling is. He’s been trying to put words on it since last night. Last night it was struck. He was struck as you spoke to him with that soft edge to you. And then it turned to endearment.
He reckons he missed you, while he was hiding from all of the crew because of his accident. He really did. Something about you was missing from his life.
He pushes the thoughts away as you stop splashing him.
“Oops,” you say when he meets your gaze.
His hair is wet, and he puts the paddle down to push it back. He doesn’t miss the way your eyes follow his motion, and the furrow of your brows before you frustratingly look away.
“I’m debating making you fall in the water,” he teases, pursing his lips before playing with his piercing.
Your gaze widens. “You wouldn’t dare.”
He moves his paddle in the water to get closer to you, and you quickly move away.
“I would definitely dare,” he tells you. “I’m all wet because of you.”
His brows knit together as he realizes what he just said sounded suspicious. Of course you burst out laughing, before saying, “That’s what she said”.
He rolls his head to the back of his head. “Lame.”
“You’re lame,” you counter-back.
It’s like that for the rest of the time you spend on the water. Even though he threatened to throw you in the water many times today, Jungkook doesn’t really want to do it. He likes the peace between the two of you: he’s not going to do something to fuck it up.        
You eventually get bored of kayaking, and you switch places with Chaeyeon and Bridget when the two of you return to the quay. Jo and Taehyung have gone back to the house, but Lance, Heather, Jin and Valeria are there, and you sit with them for a while, just talking.
Mindlessly, Jungkook pulls his shirt up to dry his face from the last of the water you splashed on him before getting out of the water.
He realizes his mistake only when the shirt falls back in place, and Lance is watching him with round eyes.
“What’s that scar?”
Jungkook stills. Unmoving, barely even able to breathe. The air is suddenly less warm, and he can almost see the snow again. His heart constricts in his chest, and he just stares back at Lance as if he’s a doe caught in headlights.
“You don’t just ask people why they have scars, Lance,” you grumble.
It surprises Jungkook that you said something. But then again you’re not the type to back down from a fight.
Lance seems startled by the tone of your voice. He frowns as his gaze slides to you. “It was just a question?”
“It could make people uncomfortable?”
Jin is looking at Jungkook. He’s got a careful expression on his features, and he looks between you and Jungkook a couple of times. As if this moment matters, and truthfully it does matter to Jungkook, because you’re bickering with Lance and it entirely shifted the attention away from him.
Jungkook manages to shrug his shoulders at Jin, who offers him a no-bullshit look. Valeria punches him in the arm, and Jin lets out a startled sound that has everyone looking at him.
The moment passes, and it’s dinner time when Lance moves closer to Jungkook, clearly having waited until you aren’t around to actually approach him. Jungkook steels himself for the questioning, but Lance only says, “Whatever happened, I’m glad you’re okay, bro”.
It renders Jungkook speechless, and all he can do is nod his head at Lance. Lance claps him on the shoulder, and he immediately walks away, as if his job here is done.
And maybe it is, and all he wanted to do was prove that he’s Jungkook’s friend. It makes Jungkook appreciate him ten times more, and then he takes a moment to really look at everyone. The girls are all laughing about a story Jin is telling, and Taehyung is just shaking his head in disbelief where he’s grilling the meat for dinner. Lance moves towards Taehyung to offer help, and Jungkook just stays alone for a moment, enjoying the scene.
The sun is setting, the air is warm and the light breeze from today has fallen. But the air is not still, and it smells of the rich soil of the forest, and of the meat Taehyung is grilling. The sky is still void of any clouds, and it’s turned to a rich golden glow from the setting sun.
Jungkook is stricken, once again, by the fact that he is alive. He’s alive and breathing and even though his leg hurts, he’s standing. He’s standing and walking and yes he can’t dance anymore, but there’s so much more to life than dance, isn’t there?
His eyes slide to you as he thinks the thought. You’re looking at Jin with a little smirk, the one he knows you use when you’re judging someone. But you feel his eyes on you and your gaze meets his. The smirk falls into a small, secretive smile, and Jungkook breathes in sharply.
His heart is beating a little louder, and this time he does push it away. He does try not to think of it, but it’s hard when you look at him like that. With that soft edge he saw yesterday. It fills him with wonder, the same wonder he got from watching the night sky the day before.
You’re like a star in a bleary night. It’s hard to look away from you, and he only does so when Taehyung says the meat is ready. It’s like someone cut the string between you and him, and he almost stumbles forward as he glances to Taehyung.
He gulps, taking a deep, steadying breath before he moves to help Taehyung bring the food to the table. Lance helps too, and the three of them together make quick work of filling everyone’s plate, and Jungkook soon settles down in a chair next to you, right in front of Jo.
Dinner is fun. Cheery, with lots of laughter. Everyone is already a little tipsy from the day-drinking you’ve all done, and Jungkook feels like there’s more than alcohol in his blood this evening. There are feelings, joy and happiness to be here in this moment.
He should live in the moment more often.
“Hey JK,” Jo says, and he raises his eyes from his plate.
His fork is halfway to his mouth when he lets out, “Uh?”
“How is it going with Laura?”
Everything inside of him stills, like it did earlier today with Lance but for a completely different reason this time. He freezes, and he doesn’t miss the way your head immediately snaps towards him at Jo’s question.
Jo has an insufferable smile on her lips, and Jungkook just can’t move.
Laura. She’s a girl from his class that started texting him a few weeks ago. He’s seen her once, just because she said she had questions about her camera and it would be easier if Jungkook answered in person. Laura is a sweet girl. Pretty too, but Jungkook doesn’t know if their talking will lead anywhere. He doesn’t feel like he’s ready to jump headfirst into a relationship.      
Especially not as he feels your expectant gaze on his profile.
“Laura?” he repeats.
“Didn’t you go on a date with her?” Jo asks.
Jungkook frowns, shaking his head. “It wasn’t a date,” he points out. “She needed help with her new camera.”
About that. Jungkook brought a camera with him this weekend. He’s been taking pictures once in a while, mostly of nature. Because he’s always been more of a landscape photographer. Maybe because landscapes tend to change less than people. They feel unbreakable, immovable, and it’s reassuring in some way.
“That sounds like the lamest start of a porno,” Lance jokes.
Everyone laughs. Everyone but you and Jungkook. Jungkook only shrugs, before saying, “I didn’t sleep with her”.
You scoff next to him. It aggravates him, something you haven’t made him feel in a while now. His brows knit together as he turns his head toward you.
“You want us to believe you didn’t sleep with her?” you let out.
It’s bitter. And you seem to realize it quite at the same time as he does, because you flush red, and you look away from him to glance down at your half-empty plate on the table.
Jungkook’s features relax, and a smile even tugs at the corners of his lips. He knows what Jo is doing. Especially as he sees the knowing smirk on her lips.
She dared him to find a way to make you jealous earlier this week, when he invited her and Taehyung to the cottage. As if making you jealous is a good idea.
He now sees what she meant. Because you’re playing with your food, a look of confusion creased into your features. It’s cute, and it makes the same feeling arise in him.
Everyone starts talking again, but Jungkook feels the weight of Taehyung and Jin’s gazes on him. He avoids them like the plague, focusing on trying to keep his smile in. He doesn’t want to infuriate you by making a comment.
Especially not when you’ve been forced to team up for the beer pong tournament. Which, turns out you’re a lot better than he thought you would be. Than you said you were, because you make it to the final round, getting beaten by Bridget and Heather out of all people. The two girls celebrate to the sounds of everyone whooping and cheering, and Jungkook can’t keep his smile in.
Tonight promises to be quite the party. And it is. With lots of drinking, and Chaeyeon and Lance having to jump into the lake because they were last in the tournament. It’s funny, but it leads to them deciding to go to bed early, saying something about being cold from the lake.
Jungkook knows exactly what they have in mind when he sees them staring at each other the way that they are. Like they’re alone in the universe, and maybe to them they really are.
He’s surprised when the rest of the group starts to follow Chaeyeon and Lance. The night is younger than it was yesterday when it came to an end, but there’s something in the air. It brings the couples closer together, makes them exchange secretive glances and stolen touches. Jungkook finds Taehyung and Jo making out outside of the bathroom when he goes in to pee, and they never come out after that. Jin and Valeria move in not even five minutes later, right before Hobi and Jiho, and it leaves Bridget, Heather and you alone with him outside.
He’s not surprised when the two girls decide to go to sleep too, even though Jungkook has just started the hot tub at Bridget’s request. It leaves him alone with you and the red solo cup in his hand. It’s filled to the brim and, quite frankly, Jungkook doesn’t feel tired at all. He feels alive, awake and ready to conquer the world if need be.
You look exactly like that too.
“Wow,” you let out once everyone is gone.
Jungkook feels awkward for half a heartbeat. But then his eyes slide to the house, and he notices Jo in the window. She quickly dips out of his line of sight, which makes him understand exactly what happened.
You’ve been left alone outside on purpose, and Jo’s the one that schemed the whole thing.
“They’re boring,” Jungkook says, though he feels like laughing. He hopes you don’t notice.
“They didn’t even go into the hot tub,” you point out. “What a waste of energy.”
He glances at the tub, and an idea forms in the back of his mind. He doubts you’re going to say yes.
*****
                You don’t know why you said yes. Going into a hot tub alone with Jungkook sounds like a very bad idea, and the more you think about it the worse it seems to you. Yet you make your way outside after having put on your black two-piece swimsuit, wrapped in a white towel you fished from the bathroom.
The house was eerily quiet when you and Jungkook went in to change. It is still just as quiet as you get out of the bathroom, and aim for the kitchen to make yourself a glass before you go outside. You notice Jungkook is already out there, testing the temperature of the water. He’s wearing trunks, and he got rid of his t-shirt, discarding it on a chair next to the slowly dying fire. He turns towards the window as you’re pouring a glass, probably to see if you’re coming. It’s not your fault when your eyes dip down to his leg.
Even in the darkness you see the angry knot of skin that runs from below his knee and disappears in his swim trunks. It’s ugly, and your heart stops beating for a few seconds as you see it. Jungkook was right when he told you about his accident the first time – the scar on his leg is far scarier than the one on his stomach.
You wave back at him as he waves, a dumb smile on his lips. You focus on that smile, because you don’t want to be thinking of the scar. Don’t want to be thinking about the pain Jungkook must have endured. The pain he is still enduring to this day.
You’re hesitant when you step outside, though you make sure to bring a glass for him too. He’s still smiling when you arrive, and it only widens when you hand him the red solo cup.
“Thought you might want a refill.”
He tilts his head to the side, winking at you as he grabs the glass. “Always.”
You move towards the tub, ignoring the way you feel his gaze on you. It makes you self-conscious, and you don’t want to peel the towel from around yourself. You reckon you can’t get in the water with it though, so you carefully put your glass down on the side of the tub before taking the towel off, leaving it on the same chair where Jungkook’s shirt is.
“It might be a little hot,” Jungkook warns as you move back to the tub. “I adjusted the temperature a little while I was waiting for you.”
You dip your fingers in the water, shrugging your shoulders. “Seems good enough to me.”
He laughs, and his eyes follow you as you climb into the tub. The water is hot, extremely so, but you’re drunk and the jet of the tub looks far too inviting for you to wait.
“Alright then, guess I’ll get in too.”
You watch as he does so, and your eyes once again fall to his scar. It stretches weirdly as he bends his leg, as if it doesn’t really allow him full movements anymore. It explains why his dancing has turned mechanical now, and why he can’t move the way that he did before.           
He’s noticed your gaze on the scar while getting in. You know it, because his features have fallen serious by the time he sits in front of you.
“I know, it’s ugly,” he says, and his eyes get lost in the bubbles in the water.
You remain silent for a time, waiting for his gaze to meet yours. When it does, you finally say, “Nothing about you is ugly”.
It’s smooth, the way you say it. It makes his eyes widen and a laugh bursts from his lips. You don’t even know why you flirted with him – you just had an inkling it’d make him fall back into his usual cocky self.
And of course it does.
“You think I’m hot?”
You roll your eyes, before grabbing your red solo cup from where you left it. Jungkook grabs his own, and it takes a few seconds before you’re settled back into your seat. You take a small sip from the glass, letting the rum and coke swirl in your mouth for a second before you swallow.
“I’m not going to answer that question.”
He smirks. “Then I’ve got my answer.”
You squint your eyes, fake glaring at him, and it only makes him laugh.
“You’re insufferable.”
He shrugs his shoulders, and he takes a sip from his glass. He winces then, before raising his eyebrows. “How strong did you make this?”
“Strong enough to have you shut up?”
“Oh please.” He laughs once more. “You know that won’t make me shut up. As a matter of fact, it’s probably just going to make me talk more.”
You chuckle, shaking your head a little. “My mistake.”
Jungkook really is hot, sitting there. His hair is fluffy around his face – it really is a lot longer than it was before. It curls a little at the ends, making a crown around his head. He’s buff too, and it makes you wonder how he manages to work out at the gym even with his injury. And it’s hard not to let your gaze wander to the tattoos on his shoulders, the ink that goes from his hand up to the top of his arm.
He’s attractive, damn him. You hate it, so you say, “So, Laura uh?”
He holds your gaze, his tongue darting out to play with his piercing for a time. “What about her?”
You cock an eyebrow. “You tell me.”
He’s smirking now, and his eyes dip to where your chest disappears in the water before moving up to your features again. “Why do you want to know?”
You feel hot. Not because of the water, though you reckon it really is hot. No, his gaze is burning you, in a way that makes you feel naked. You don’t know if you like it. But two can play this game Jungkook seems to have chosen.
You shrug your shoulders, wetting your lips before smiling. “Just making conversation, Jeon.”
His gaze has moved to your lips. It stays there as he says, “Seems to me like you got a little jealous earlier”.
You refuse to admit that it was jealousy, when Jo mentioned Laura at dinner time. To you, it was just surprise, and you’ve been repeating it to yourself ever since it happened.
“Why would I be jealous?” you ask, brows knitting together as a smile plays on your lips. “You’re nothing to me.”
“Right.” He chuckles, and he drinks from his cup, his gaze burning into yours. “I’m nothing and yet you’re in this hot tub alone with me.”
He’s arrogantly cocky, isn't he? It used to piss you off, but tonight it just makes your blood boil.
“Wasn’t going to waste the opportunity for a hot tub session,” you say, shrugging your shoulders. “Unfortunate that it had to come with you though.”
He fakes offence. “You offend me.”
You snort, and his features relax into a small smile. There’s a moment of silence, where you find yourself too much of a coward to keep holding his gaze. It’s your turn to let your gaze wander down to the spot where his chest disappears in the water, and you drink from your cup.
“Do you want to play Truth or Dare?” he suggests after almost a minute without any of you speaking.
You chuckle. “Are we twelve?”
He shrugs. “Just thought it could be fun.” He pouts a little, and it really does make him look like he’s twelve. “Unless you’re too much of a coward for it.”
“Me, a coward?” you scoff, rolling your eyes playfully. “Truth or Dare, Jeon?”
The cocky smirk reappears. “Truth.”
You don’t know what to ask. At all. Your mind goes empty, until he lets out a laugh that gives you an idea. “What’s the deal with Laura?”
“You really want to know, uh?”
You shrug. “You chose truth, now answer the question.”
He laughs a little, and then plays with his piercing for a few seconds. You watch him do so, eyes falling to his lips.
“We hung out once”, he says.
It’s the same answer as earlier, but you feel like a brat right now. So, you press him by saying, “And that’s it? You’re not going to see her again?”
He ponders for a time, making you wait before he replies, “We’re supposed to go on a date sometime next week”.
You feel like maybe you shouldn’t have asked the question. Because his reply makes you clench your jaw, and you take a sip from your cup to hide it. “Jeon Jungkook on a date? Are you having a fever?”
“She’s nice, just thought I’d give it a try,” he says, shrugging his shoulders. He’s still smirking, and this time it’s knowing.
He knows that the thought of him going on a date with Laura is pissing you off. And you don’t even know why it makes you feel like that. You’re not sure you should be feeling like that when it comes to Jeon Jungkook. He’s barely even a friend.
“Hope it goes well for you,” you say, though it sounds tense.
He shrugs, winking at you. “I’ll let you know.” He pauses for a moment, before asking, “Truth or Dare?”
So the conversation about Laura is over then. And he’s a fool if he thinks you’ll say truth.
“Dare.”
He looks far too happy about your choice. “Chug your glass.”
You frown. “But then I won’t have anything to drink if I don’t want to do some of your dares.”
“Oh, we’re playing adult Truth or Dare? Had I known I wouldn’t have answered your question.” You glare at him, and he laughs, shrugging his shoulders. “Just drink, you can always drink from my glass later.”
Your glare intensifies, if that’s possible, but you still give in. You’re not one to back away from a challenge, and you chug your glass in a few long swigs. Your nose scrunches up as you finish, and you put the cup down.
“Happy?” you let out, and he nods with that same insufferable smirk on his lips. You want to wipe it away, but you don’t really know how. Instead, you only ask him, “Truth or Dare?”
“Dare.”
You hate dares. You never know what to suggest. You don’t feel like making him chug his glass, so you cock your head to the side as you survey him, mind reeling for an idea.
“Go get me another glass.”
He’s surprised. So are you, but you think it’s a brilliant idea.
“It’s so far,” he complains, with that same childish pout he used a moment ago. “Can I change for Truth?”
“You’re annoying”, you say, though you don’t really mind.
Something in the way he’s been looking at you makes you want him to stay anyway.
“You’re the one that wants me to go all the way inside.”
You chuckle, before shaking your head. “Alright then, let me find you a truth.” It takes you about half a minute before you come up with an idea. “How many girls have you slept with?”
He snorts. “Wow, straight to the body count I see.” He falls silent again, and his hand plays with the bubbles in the water in front of him.
“So?”
You think he’s blushing. It’s hard to tell in the dim light – indeed, the only light illuminating the scene is the one from next to the door, and the tub’s purple light.
“I’d say…” he trails off, scrunching his nose as he thinks. “Like twenty-five?”
It’s a lot, but not as much as you expected. Jungkook has a fuckboy vibe to him, and you were pretty sure he had at least fifty.
“Only?”
He furrows his brows. “Only?”
“I thought you had more,” you admit, chuckling as you shrug your shoulders.
He sips from his cup. “Sorry to disappoint.” His eyes glint with mischief, and he adds, “Truth or Dare?”
You hesitate, maybe because something in the way his eyes sparkle makes you think he’s got something in mind. You feel it – anticipation is building in you, and some parts of you can already see the outcome before it unfolds. Like a web of possibilities, and the longer he looks at you like that, the more it closes in to the anticipated one.
“Truth.”
He’s silent for a time. His face falls more serious, darker, and he’s so hot sitting there you really have to look away. “If everyone was single here, who would you fuck?”
You refuse to admit his question makes a drop of pure magma roll down your spine, before it moves forward and settles in your core.
“Jiho.” It’s a lie. You both know it, but he lets it slide – for now. “Truth or Dare?”
“Truth.”
You hit him with the same question he’s just asked you. His reply is far more cryptic.
“You already know the answer.”
You breathe in shakily, and something tightens inside of you. “Do I?”
His mouth is a little parted, and his tongue darts out to wet his lips before he takes a sip from the cup. He seems to reconsider it, because he chugs the whole thing before putting it down on the side of the tub.
“Do you?”
It confirms the answer. And you don’t know what to make of it. It scares you, somehow, but makes the fire in your burn brighter.
“Truth or dare?” he asks then, and a smirk tugs at the corners of his lips.
“Dare.”
You don’t even hesitate. You’re afraid he’s going to ask you stuff you don’t know the answer to if you choose truth.
“Why don’t you come sit closer, mmh?”
Still no hesitation from you. You’re like the moth and he the flame – you know it’s a bad idea, but you haven’t looked away from his eyes in too long. You’re in a trance, and you think so is he.
You settle next to him. Far enough not to touch, but close enough for every inch between you to fill with electricity. Not that it wasn’t already before – you are just way more conscious of it now.
“Truth or dare?” you ask, and it’s a little breathless, the way you speak.
“Dare,” he says. His eyes are on your lips now, and all you can do for a time is to observe his features. He’s got a mole under his mouth, and a scar on one of his cheeks. It looks old, and it’s so faded you can barely see it.
You have no dare in mind. You feel like you don’t even have any thoughts. You’re stuck looking at his lips, where your gaze settles as you watch his features. “Uh?” you let out.
He chuckles. It’s deep, manly, and it makes you look up to his eyes. “No idea what to ask?”
“You already chugged your glass.”
“There’s nothing else you want me to do?”
There’s a whole lot you want him to do, but a whole lot you don’t want him to do. It’s confusing, and your heart is beating too loud for you to think straight.
“Is there something you want to do?” you ask.
He’s bold. His hand moves up, his fingers lightly touching the side of your neck. “I could kiss your neck.” They trail down until they find a home on your shoulders. “Or I could massage your shoulders, you seem a little tense.”
You are. You are because there is a war of conflicting emotions in you, and you don’t know which side will win. “Massage my shoulders then.”
He laughs, before making you turn. It’s easier to breathe once he’s not in your line of sight anymore, though the moment his hands start working on your shoulders, you tense up again. “Relax,” he murmurs, adding your name at the end.
“You’re making me anxious,” you admit breathlessly.
He stays silent as he works on your shoulders, for so long you think he won’t talk. But then he says, “Why?”
“I don’t know.”
His hands are big, and his fingers are skilled. In a matter of a few minutes he’s undid every knot in your shoulders, and you find yourself able to breathe. You still don’t want to risk looking at him though.
“Truth or dare?” he asks.
Maybe you can be bold too. Maybe you can just focus on every spot where his fingers are digging in your skin. Maybe it doesn’t have to mean anything.
“Dare.”
“Give me a hickey.”
You snort, mostly because it takes you by surprise. “What?”
His hands fall from your shoulders. “You heard me well.”              
“Aren’t hickeys bad for you?” you say, though you’ve never really cared about that. You care about it even less when you hear him move in the water.
“I think everything about you is bad for my sanity right now.” He whispers the words directly into your ear, and goosebumps form on your arms.
“Please don’t think this is going to lead anywhere,” you whisper back, right as you tilt your head to the side. You feel the ghost of his lips on your skin, but he straightens before he’s really done anything.
“Then why are you afraid of giving me a hickey?”
It is a challenge, and you don’t back down from challenges. So you turn around, say fuck it, and lean towards his neck until your mouth finds the spot where it connects with his shoulder. You suck, hard, and he hisses as one of his hands moves to your back, as if he wants to pull you closer.
You run your tongue on the spot you’ve sucked, before straightening. He’s got a deep purple mark there now, and you smirk in satisfaction. “Happy now?”
His chest is moving up and down quickly as he breathes. He’s out of breath, and the insufferable smirk is gone now. He seems a little angry, with a crease between his brows. “Yeah.”
You’re about to succumb to insanity. It’s taking a hold of you, choking you up until you say, “Truth or dare?”
“Truth,” he answers.
He seems just as conflicted as you. But the web of possibilities from earlier dwindled down until there’s only one left, and both of you know it.
“Do you want to fuck me?”
Your heart beats once, and then it stops in your chest. Because you meet him halfway, crashing your mouth on his so hard you think you taste blood. You don’t care: insane people do not care about anything. All you want is to feel his lips against yours, and damn him he’s a good kisser.
It’s intense, languid, and his hands don’t take their time before he’s pulling you on his lap. You straddle him, your own hands finding purchase on his shoulders, before moving up until you’ve cupped his face. And you hold him in place as you kiss, never once breaking away for air.
You don’t need oxygen when you’re kissing Jeon Jungkook. All you need are his lips, and he gives you plenty of that. And when his tongue finds yours, you moan in his mouth.
He swallows it like a man starved.
His hands are on your back. Respectfully so, even as he’s devouring your mouth. It frustrates you, because you want more. You want to feel all of him. It makes you grab a handful of his hair, and you pull his head back.
“Fuck,” he hisses.
“I’m not going to fuck you in a hot tub.”
It’s the only intelligent thing you could think of.
“We can –“
Your lips are back on his before he finishes his sentence, and you suck on his bottom lip, tongue darting out to play with his piercing. This time, he grunts in your mouth, and his hands lose their fight against his will not to touch you more. They move down until he’s cupped your ass, and he makes you grind on him.
You moan, and he breaks away from the kiss, just so he can bend down and leave a trail of hot, wet kisses on the column of your throat. You just let your hands loose in his hair and on his shoulders, nails digging in his skin when he decides to suck a hickey on you too.
You grind again then, and you feel the bulge of him press against you.
“We can’t fuck in the tub,” you say, and your voice is unrecognizable even to yourself. It’s lustful, sinfully so, and you’d be embarrassed if he didn’t meet your gaze with his half-lidded eyes.
“We can go in the shower.”
You’ve never been a fan of shower sex, so you say, “As much as that would probably be a good idea, I won’t fuck you in a shower either.”
He’s confused. You can tell by the way he tilts his head to the side. “Where do you want me to fuck you then? In the middle of the living room?”
It makes you chuckle, and an unexpected smile appears on his lips.
“I don’t think we should fuck.”
His grip on your ass tightens as his features turn dark, and he makes you grind on him again. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, embarrassingly so, as you let out a breathy moan. “Right,” he says.
“Fuck,” you curse.
He leans forward again, and this time his lips find a spot right over the top of your bikini. He sucks on your skin, and you moan as you grind again.
It’s uncomfortable. Not his lips on you, no, but the water of the tub mixed with the fabric of your swimwear. If you didn’t know how unsanitary it is, you would let him fuck you right then and there. But you don’t want to get an infection.
“Let’s go inside.” This time, one of his hands moves from your ass, trailing up your side until he’s grabbed one of your boobs. “Please.”
“Anything for you,” he mumbles against your breast, before straightening.
You kiss him again, just for good measure, and then you push away from him, reluctantly so. You feel his heavy gaze on you as you get out of the tub, and you’ve wrapped yourself in your towel by the time he’s followed you.
You forgot how tall he is. Because as he steps closer to you, towering above you, your mind goes blank again and you just let him crash his lips against yours. He’s holding your face, and his thumbs brush your skin gently before he pulls away. He stays close enough for you to feel his warm breath on you, but far enough so that you can’t reach his lips anymore.
“I need to take a shower,” you murmur.
He nods, and you feel it more than you see it. “Me too.”
“Yeah.”
He chuckles lightly, and he straightens to look up at the sky. His hands are still delicately holding your cheeks, and you watch his sharp jawline for a few seconds before he speaks.
“The stars are beautiful.”
You’re not looking at the night sky when you reply, “Yeah”.
He lets you go, then, but his hand falls until he’s grabbed one of yours. His large hand wraps around yours, and you let him do it, heart settling to a calmer beat in your chest.
“Do you want to dance?” he asks.
You stiffen. It feels strange to have him ask that. You almost forgot that he is a dancer too, in his soul, even though his physical body doesn’t permit him to let loose anymore.
“You want to dance?”
He has a soft smile on his lips when he meets your gaze. It’s miles away from the intensity it held just a moment ago, and you can’t help but offer him a smile of your own.
“Yes.”
You don’t want to refuse. Not when it feels like this moment matters. As if you’re about to create a core memory, and maybe you are.
Maybe you are.
The night sky is filled with stars. Distant burning constellations, and they wink at the two of you as Jungkook leads you through a slow dance. His steps are sure tonight, albeit a little mechanical, and his hand on the small of your back feels like a weight anchoring you into the present.
Up above, the stars just shine on and on, endlessly, for eternity. And you feel like eternity. You feel small and big, unimportant yet cataclysmic. He is cataclysmic. He is the start and the end, like the story is weaved into the tapestry of the universe itself.
And maybe it is.
“Thank you,” he murmurs after you’ve moved in time with him for a little eternity – your little eternity.
His voice is heavy. It holds the weight of the universe, and you reach up to cup his cheek, to anchor him in this moment with you.
“I’m happy to be here with you.”
His eyes are shining. Like the stars above, and the ones you’re starting to see behind his pupils. He hasn’t looked away from you since you started dancing, and you from him. You don’t think you can.
“I forgot how it felt to dance,” he admits.
Though he has danced since the accident. You’ve seen him dance, but maybe his heart wasn’t into it. Maybe his heart is in the moment now, maybe it’s beating in sync with all of your steps.
“How does it feel?” you ask, smiling up at him.
“Liberating. Like I’m just one of the stars in the sky up above.”
You don’t know what that feels like. It makes you realize you’ve never truly felt free. Jeon Jungkook looks at peace now, and you can just hope you’ll get to feel like that one day too.
A cool breeze rises around you, and you shiver as it moves on your skin. Jungkook notices, and he dips his head to kiss you again. Softly, gently, and when he pulls away he says, “Let’s go inside, you’re cold”.
You nod your head, even though you never want the moment to end. But nothing lasts in life – not even the stars above. One day they’ll die too, until all that’s left of them is an empty husk of life.
To you, that’s what love has always been like. It hits and leaves nothing of it behind. Maybe that’s why you step away from Jungkook.
“Yes.”
*****
                The shower you take is short. Scalding hot, until your skin has turned bright red. Only then are you satisfied, and you step out to dry yourself with a towel. You’re gentle with the towel, and you can still feel Jungkook’s hands on you. Can still feel the weight of his eyes on you.
If you could, you’d leave the cottage now. You’d run while you still can, but you can’t.
You can’t, so you step out of the bathroom and make your way to the living room where you both slept the night before. Where he snored softly until the noises he made were entwined with your dreams.
He’s already sitting on his couch when you arrive. His hair is wet from the shower he took in the downstairs bathroom, right next to the room where Chaeyeon and Lance are sleeping. He’s wearing black joggers and an oversized dark grey t-shirt, and he looks inherently comfortable. As if he’s comfort personified. He pushes his hair back as you come into view, offering you another one of his soft smiles.
You didn’t know Jungkook has softness in him. You feel it now: it’s in the way he looks at you, in the curve of his lips and the openness of his gaze.
“I have an idea,” he says, a little cryptically, and his smile turns mischievous. Childish, playful, and you chuckle.
“What is it?”
“I noticed your couch is tiny,” he says, motioning to said couch. “I thought…” He flushes red, before chuckling.
A blushing Jungkook is not a thing you imagined you would ever see someday.
“You thought?” you press on.
“I thought we could put all the cushions on the ground to make like a bed?”
It feels like you shouldn’t. Like you’re not supposed to be sleeping in the same bed as Jeon Jungkook. Especially not after what just happened outside – both the tub and the dance.
“Sure,” you agree nonetheless. “As long as you don’t steal all the blankets.”
He grins. “I would never.”
It’s cute, and it makes you gaze away.
Jungkook makes quick work of creating a bed for the two of you. You help him to move a coffee table away, and soon enough all the couch cushions form a mattress on the ground. You place the pillows you used last night on one end of it, and you’re sitting down just to test the makeshift bed when Jungkook throws the blankets on top of you.
“Jungkook!” you yelp, though you try to keep it to a minimum level so you won’t wake anyone.
He just laughs, and a few seconds later the room falls into darkness. While you’re disentangling yourself from the blankets, you hear a thump, and Jungkook lets out a series of curses that makes you burst out laughing, probably way too loud.
You don’t care.
“Fuck,” he finishes, and you can barely distinguish his silhouette when you’re free of the blankets.
“What happened?”
“I stubbed my toe,” he hisses through his teeth. “Fuck.”
You just laugh again, before moving until you’re on the side you chose for sleeping. “Just come here.”
“I was trying to,” he grumbles, and it sounds like he is pouting.
You’re starting to know him well enough that you know he is pouting.
Once you’re settled on your side of the bed, lying on your back staring up at the ceiling, Jungkook finally moves towards you. He lies on his side of the cushions, pulling a blanket over him. You both have your own blankets, so sleeping right next to each other doesn’t feel too indecent.
It takes your brain only three seconds before it produces an image of the hot tub, and you’re pretty sure the same thing just happened to Jungkook, because he chuckles lowly.
“What?” you ask.
“Nothing.”
You frown in the darkness. “Doesn’t sound like nothing.”
“Mmh.”
 You turn until you’re facing him. His silhouette is dark against the lighter background behind him, but you can barely make out his form next to you. You see it when he moves though, as he turns to face you too.
“What are you humming about?”
He chuckles. “Do you like cuddling?”
“You’re not going to get me to cuddle you,” you immediately reply, and you sound just as flustered as you feel.
“You grind on me in the hot tub and then you don’t even want to cuddle me? Outrageous.”
You scoff, and if you weren’t in the dark he’d see your cheeks turning scarlet. “We both know where cuddling would lead.”
His voice is husky when he speaks. “You think you can’t resist me?”
It makes the ‘never back down from a challenge’ part of you tickle until you find yourself replying, “I’ll be the big spoon”.
He snorts, but he turns until he’s facing away from you. You hesitate for a time, but you eventually move closer to him, until you’ve wrapped an arm around his stomach. You rest your forehead against his back, and you hope he can’t hear the loud beats of your heart.
His body is warm. Comfortably so, and you know you could drift to sleep easily just lying next to him like this.
Why then are you unable to fully close your eyes? Why then do you decide to move closer, until his ass is pressed against you? It makes you gulp, and some wild and foolish part of you wishes you could be under his skin.
You don’t think you could ever be close enough to him to satiate the hunger that’s forming in your core.
Jungkook moves his arm, and a second later he’s wrapping his hand around yours. You let him do it, and you’re surprised when he brings your hand up to press a light kiss on your knuckles.
You wish you were still drunk. Because then you could blame your next words on the alcohol.
“Actually, can you be the big spoon?”
He sounds like he’s smirking when he says, “Yeah, of course”.
A few seconds later the positions are reversed, and Jungkook molds his body to yours, wrapping his tattooed arm around your frame, putting his other one under your head. It fits too well, like it was meant to be, and maybe this moment really was always meant to be.
Maybe you were bound to hate him until you found yourself cuddled up to him in the dead of night at a cottage on the countryside.
“Your hair smells good,” Jungkook says, and he shifts impossibly closer. You feel his lips on your head as he inhales, and the arm around your waist tightens as he pulls you flush against him.
“Thank you,” you answer, breathlessly. Because you are breathless in his arms, you are breathless feeling all of his firm body against all of yours.
Breathless enough so that you shift, and your ass moves against him.
“Uh,” Jungkook lets out. He laughs a little, and his tattooed hand moves up until he’s brushing his thumb on the side of your jaw. “You shouldn’t do that.”
“Isn’t that exactly what you want me to do?”
He thinks for a time. “What I want you to do and what you want seem to be two completely different things.”
It’s a little somber, the way he says it, and you bite your lip. Because he’s right, sort of. You’re not sure you want to have sex with him. But what started in the hot tub is bound to finish someday, is it not?
“You’re confusing me,” you admit. “You’ve been confusing me all weekend.”
His hand leaves your jaw, and he moves your hair out of the way as he leans. His lips press a tentative kiss on your neck, and your ass immediately shifts against him again.
“So have you,” he declares. “You’ve been confusing me for weeks.”
His revelation only makes you want him even more. And you’ve rarely wanted someone the way your body has been craving for Jungkook. Because that’s what it is: your body has been craving for him since the hot tub. And you’re about to succumb to your desires, aren’t you?
“Jungkook…”
He sucks on your skin, but not hard enough to leave a hickey. It still makes heat pool at your core, and you push your ass back against his dick once more.
“Fuck,” he curses. “We should go to sleep.”
Though this time he grinds against you, and you can feel the start of his erection on your ass.
“Right,” you agree.
And you move against him, earning a grunt from him. He murmurs your name, before saying, “I don’t have any condoms”.
All your nerves set on fire. “I don’t care.”
“We shouldn’t…” His sentence is cut short as you grind again, and he sinks his teeth in the soft skin of your neck. It hurts a little, and you know he’s going to leave another hickey on you as soon as he starts sucking.
Your hand shoots behind you, and you grab the back of his head, fingers getting lost in the strands of his hair. His own hand moves down until it settles on your hip, and he guides your movement against him.
He moves away from your neck, pressing a kiss on your shoulder this time. “We shouldn’t have sex,” he says, completing his previous sentence.
“I know.”
“We’re going to have sex,” he adds.
“I know.”
You circle your hips, and his erection is turning hard by the second. You’re soaking your panties, and you just want more of him. You want to get rid of all the fabric between you two and feel his skin directly against yours.
“Oh, Y/n…” he breathes, and then he’s back to kissing your neck.
No sucking this time, just his tongue drawing circles on your skin as you continue moving your ass against his dick.
“You’re already hard.”
“The hot tub got me real horny.”
It had the same effect on you, and you shiver as he bites at your ear. Gently, not to hurt, especially not as he presses a kiss under your ear next.
“Fuck,” you say.
His breathing is warm against the side of your face, and you decide to dive in. To say fuck it with what you should do and what you want to do. You only have one life to live anyway.
The moment your lips touch feels like a dam broke inside of you. Your tongue meets him halfway between your mouths, and he swallows the moan you let out as his fingers move under your shirt. You’re not wearing a bra, and the moan turns to a hiss as he pinches one of your nipples, rolling the sensitive bud between his thumb and index.
He pulls away from the kiss to say, “Can I take off your shorts?”
Because you’re wearing baby blue PJ shorts. Nothing really attractive, but it has no hindering effect on Jungkook’s desire for you, has it?
“Yes,” you answer and he’s back to kissing you in no time.
His fingers do quick work of the knot holding your shorts in place, and he immediately slides his hand in. He slides it under your panties too, and he starts rubbing circles on your clit right away.
You’re going to go insane. He’s worth going insane for.
You grind on his hand, and he moves lower so he can dip his middle finger and ring finger inside of you, up to the first knuckle, before pulling out and rubbing circles on your clit again. Your slick juice renders you oversensitive, and you buck your hips as he starts a hellish rhythm down there, with just the right pressure.              
It’s like he knows his way around your body already.
You try to reach between you, but the way his arm is positioned keeps you from being able to palm him. You whine and it makes him stop his ministrations on your clit.
“Is something wrong?”
“Take off your pants,” you tell him.
“Please?” he taunts you, as if he wants to let you know who’s in control here.
“Please,” you hiss through your teeth, because somehow it infuriates you.
“Good girl,” he praises with his low husky voice.
You’ve never been called a good girl before, and something in the way he says it makes you grind hard against him.
“You like that, uh?” he asks.
“Just take off the fucking pants, Jeon.”
He chuckles but obeys nonetheless. You take off your shorts at the same time, and think about it for half a second before you’re taking your panties off too.
Once you’re both naked from the waist down, you return to the previous cuddling position. Only this time his dick is resting against your ass, and from what you can tell, it really is big.
“Should I finger you to make sure you can take me?” he asks, but it’s rhetorical.
Indeed, he doesn’t wait for you to answer before he plunges two fingers inside of you, arching them to hit a spot inside of you that makes you see stars, shy constellations that add light to the darkness of the cottage. You find purchase on his forearm as he starts thrusting his fingers in and out of you, and he reaches deep inside of you. His palm hits your clit every time he pushes all the way in, and you’re starting to see a whole damn galaxy of stars in no time.
But you want to feel him, want to jerk him off while he’s making you feel good too. So you reach behind you, and this time you’re successful. You’re able to wrap your hand around his cock, and you moan at the feeling of the large girth.
“You’re so fucking wet.”
You moan, nodding your head. “It’s all for you.”
“Oh, I fucking know it is,” he says.
It’s cocky, but you’re too far gone to give him shit for it.
You start jerking him off, slowly because you can’t really move quicker in this position. He stills bucks his hips, fucking your hand, and he starts moving his fingers even faster, hitting your clit even harder.
“Fuck, please play with my clit,” you beg.
“Can’t say no when you ask so nicely,” he says, and he’s back to rubbing circles on your clit.
You clench around nothing as you jerk him off, before you decide to position his dick between your legs. You grind against him, or maybe he makes you grind. You don’t really know. All you can feel is the way his length moves against you. But he never aligns with your entrance, as if he just wants to tease you, and knowing him you’re pretty sure he does.
It stays like this for a while, with him just coating his dick with your slick juice as he keeps rubbing insistent circles on your clit. Your walls clench around nothing, and you whine as he just moves his hips back and forth.
“Fuck me, Jungkook,” you say.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asks.
You just whine again.
“I want to hear you say it.”
He’s infinitely infuriating, isn’t he?
“Yes, I fucking want your dick inside of me.”
This time, when he pulls his hips away from you, he makes sure to align with your entrance before pushing forward. And he pushes forward hard, sheathing all of his dick inside of you. Or all of what fits inside of you, because you’re pretty sure he’s way too big to be able to entirely fit.
The moment he hits the back of your pussy you let out a moan. It’s loud, and you immediately put a hand on your mouth to muffle the next noises you’ll make. You think better of it after a few seconds, and you grab the blanket, rolling it in a messy bundle just so you can press it against your face.
“You feel so fucking tight,” he says, and then he grunts when your walls clench around him. “Just relax, baby.”
“I’m just so close,” you admit.
You don’t know when he stopped rubbing circles on your clit. Only know that he starts again now, and you feel the familiar knot of an orgasm starting to form deep in your core.
“Such a fucking good girl”, he praises. “You’re going to come all over my dick.”
You immediately hide your face in the blanket as you moan, unashamedly loud. And then he starts fucking into you, slow and hard, and you lose it. You lose it as the knot uncoils, snaps inside of you, turning every inch of your body into an oversensitive land of pleasure.
Jungkook fucks you through your high, steadily, never once faltering even as your walls pulse hard against him. His fingers keep on rubbing circles on your clit, and he kisses a spot on your neck that makes goosebumps erupt on all of you. It feels so good you could cry, but your high still just keeps on going. Even though you’re in the dark, your vision is white, blindly so.
You don’t know when your hand found its way to the side of his face, only that once you finally come down you have a handful of his hair in your grip.
“That didn’t take long,” Jungkook teases, whispering the words directly into your ear.
He’s not wrong. You don’t think you’ve ever come as hard and quick as you just did.
“Holy fuck,” you mutter.
He has stilled inside of you, and his lips are littering small kisses on your neck. So you feel his smirk against you, and it makes you move. Circling your hips, trying to give him something in return for the orgasm he’s gifted you.
“You’re going to let me come inside of you, mmh?” he asks as you keep on going, a little sloppily from the remnants of your orgasm.
“You think you can come for me?” You’re embarrassingly breathless, still panting because of your high. You take a deep breath as you prop yourself up on an elbow, just so it’s easier to fuck yourself on him.
Jungkooks hums. “I need a little more than that, baby.”
You bite your lips as his tattooed hand finds your breast under your shirt again. “What do you want me to do?”
“Ride me?” he suggests, right as he plants a soft peck on your shoulder.
You moan as he fucks into you hard, unexpectedly. “Anyone could see.”
He whines, but then his hand moves to your hip before he starts pounding into you again. You hide your face in the blanket again, trying to muffle your sounds. Jungkook is not faring a lot better than you, and his grunts send shivers all over you. He doesn’t talk again until he’s slowed down.
“They can already see us.”
He’s not wrong, and you hate it. But you doubt someone will get up at this hour of the night, closer to the morning than to yesterday. He pushes in once more, hard and rough.
“Fuck,” he curses, and he entirely stops moving.
He even pulls out, and you turn to look at him. Your eyes have adjusted to the dark a little now, and you can see his features enough to see him wincing in pain.
“Is something wrong?” you immediately ask.
“My leg hurts.”
His three words fall softly in the night, the way a feather falls. It shifts the atmosphere, making your heart ache in your chest.
“Oh, Jungkook…”
“Ride me,” he says, and it sounds begging.
As if he needs it to forget the pain. You don’t think you have it in you to refuse, so you straddle him. Before you sink on his dick, you lean down to press a kiss to his lips, hoping to chase the pain away. Your hands hold you up on his shoulders, and his move to your hips, before sliding down until he’s holding your ass in his large palms. He massages the muscles of your ass as you kiss, tongues meeting in a deep and languid dance.
When you’re out of breath, lungs burning for oxygen, you straighten and sit on his dick. You circle your hips, teasing him a little and also making sure that he’s still hard. He is, his dick a rod of steel, and you bite at your lower lip as you grab him with one hand to align him with your entrance. He’s looking through half-lidded eyes as you do so, and his eyes shut as you sink all the way down on him, until his dick reaches your cervix.
His mouth falls open and he moans softly. It’s a pretty sound, meant for your ears only, and it makes you feel powerful. You feel powerful as you move up and down, slowly, feeling every vein of his dick on your walls. You clench as you sink back down, and his hands on your ass tighten their hold for a few seconds before he moves to your hips to guide you.
He makes you go faster, and as if he can’t resist he’s soon fucking up into you.
You put a hand on his cheek, brushing his cheekbone with a thumb. His eyes flutter open and he stills, seeing the look on your face.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“I can do the work, don’t hurt your leg,” you tell him. You grab his hands from your hips to move them to your breasts under your shirt. And then you start moving, for real this time, quick and hard. You add a little bit of circling of your hips, just to make sure he stretches you wide.
And he does. Jungkook is huge, and you don’t wonder why he’s so cocky anymore. He’s got the kind of dick to be cocky about.
“Alright then,” Jungkook lets out between two soft moans.
You smirk, but it dies when one of his hands moves from your breast to your neck through the collar of your shirt. You grab his forearm, and your eyes flutter shut as he digs his fingers in your arteries, cutting the blood supply to your brain. It feels good, far more than it should, as all you can feel is his dick in you.
You let out a breathy sound, walls clenching on him again.
“That’s it, baby, you’re so good,” he praises, and he sounds different than he did before.
He’s more out of breath, as if he’s exhausted. And maybe he is, as he’s nearing his orgasm. It only encourages you more, and your nails dig in his forearm, hard enough to mark him.
“Fuck,” he curses, and he releases his hold on your neck. His hand doesn’t move, but it’s now just resting on your throat, and he’s not squeezing anymore.
“Fill me up, JK,” you say. “I want to feel you come inside of me.”
“Let me fuck you a little,” he replies. And he pulls you down by the neck, until he’s satisfied with the angle.
You want to say something about his leg but he’s already pounding into you, so hard your face falls in the crook of his neck as your hands get lost in his hair. Your lips meet his skin, and you suck hard, fully intending to leave a mark there. At this point you’re pretty convinced someone’s ought to know you’re fucking anyway, so why not show that he’s yours?
The thought sobers you up. But Jungkook is already coming, so you hold on strong sucking another spot on his neck as he groans and releases ropes and ropes of his cum inside of you. And he comes a lot, painting your insides white. You like it far more than you should.
Another thought to sober you up.
It takes Jungkook a little longer before he finally stops moving, and he lets out a content sigh as he wraps his arms around your waist to hold you close.
“We should have done this before,” he murmurs.
You try to sit up, but he keeps you from moving. “We shouldn’t have done this.” Even as you’re saying that you press another kiss to his neck. A soft one, just because he tastes too good, and you know the moment is about to come to an end.
“Uh?” he lets out.
His dick is still deep inside of you when you say, “We shouldn’t have fucked”.
He pushes you away now. Not hard, but it’s like your touch burns him and he needs to be away from you.
“Why?”
You sit next to him, and your cheeks burn as you feel his seed spill out of you, only to stain the blanket you previously used to muffle your moans.
“We’re barely even friends,” you point out.
He’s not watching you. His eyes are fixed on an empty spot on the cushionless couch next to which you’re laying. “Okay?”
“It’s just weird, no?”
You reckon you don’t know what you’re saying. You don’t know why you decided to say it right now either. It’s as if the words just need to get out.
“It’s just sex,” he says, and it sounds a little angry. “People have sex all the time.”
“But not us. You know, I don’t like you like that.”
A big fat lie if you’ve ever said one. You did like having sex with him. You’re just panicking, your fight or flight instinct having been suddenly triggered.
“Chill, Y/n,” he mutters, and he sighs heavily. “We just fucked. We can pretend nothing happened, if that’s what you want.”
You don’t know what you want. Some part of you wants to take the evening back, but at the same time not. You’re confusing to yourself, and your teeth dig in the tip of your tongue for a moment as you think.
“What would you want to say this is?” you ask after a little too long for the silence to be comfortable.
He finally looks at you. “Nothing, honestly. We just got horny and we’re the only single people here, it was bound to happen.”
Now, his words hurt a little, but you can see the truth behind them. “Right,” you say. “So, just friends?”
He holds your gaze. It’s too dark for you to be able to interpret anything on his features. “Sure.”
You feel bad. Remorseful. And you think about the hot tub, and the fucking too, but also about the dance outside. You reckon your fight or flight was triggered then, you’ve just been ignoring it ever since you came in.
Ever since you got out of the bathroom to see Jungkook and his softness. The softness is gone now, and he looks away from you before sitting up too. He searches around for his pants, and puts them on as you scan the scene for your own clothes.
“Can you…” you start, but he’s already throwing your shorts and panties at you.
He’s pissed. It’s evident now, clear as spring water, and you feel even worse. You didn’t want to upset him. There’s just too much history between you, too much individual history on your part too.
You’ve never been in a relationship. You’ve never been able to even imagine being in a relationship. And it usually leads to scenes like this: the men you sleep with getting upset with you. You don’t blame them, can’t blame them.
But it feels different with Jungkook. Worse, as if you don’t want the outcome to be him being upset with you. You just don’t know anything else, and so you put your clothes on. Even as he gets up to go clean up in the bathroom, muttering that he’ll be right back.
Even as he comes back and settles on the makeshift bed again, his back turned to you. The message is clear then: he doesn’t want to talk to you. You reckon you can always talk to him tomorrow. Can always let the night pass, and with it the fight or flight. It’s not like he’s going to be gone tomorrow, and you won’t be either.
You get up, sighing heavily as you go to the bathroom to clean up too.
 Jungkook is dead silent when you come back. If he was asleep, you know he would be snoring softly, as last night showed you. But no, he’s dead silent, as if he’s just ruminating in his corner.
It makes you feel too bad to remain silent.
“Jungkook,” you let out softly, his name barely over a whisper.
“Mmh?” he hums.
“I’m sorry if I upset you.”
He sighs, long and deep, before turning on his back. “Don’t worry about it.”
He’s stupid if he thinks telling you so will make it so you don’t worry. You’re always worrying anyway.
“Okay,” you still say. “It was great though, don’t take me wrong.”
He chuckles, and it’s bitter. “Listen, if you want us to pretend like it never happened, let’s start right now.”
He’s closed off. He was open earlier, a book for you to read. Maybe you’ve ripped the pages away, or maybe you’ve thrown the book off a cliff.
But it’s safer this way. It’s safer to keep Jungkook at an arm’s length. It’s where you keep everyone besides Jiho anyway.
“Okay, sorry,” you apologize. “Good night?”
He sighs once more. “Yeah, good night.” And then he turns away, and it hits you.
You won’t ever be the one to see Jungkook’s softness again.
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.............................. please don't hate me <3 how was this chapter? How was the smut? I hope it hit good haha! Let me know what you thought!
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goldenlikedayl1ght · 1 year ago
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silver springs - d. wagner
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a/n: hi. welcome back. remember the to do list i had? out the window. danny wagner kiss me on the lips challenge. enjoy, yearning sluts. warnings: horny, danny practices writing kissing and grumpy ish reader, right person wrong time, sort of slow burn? idk, death of a sibling, grief, angst, cursing, reader smokes until the end of the fic, reader has tattoos as usual, lots of sex refrences as usual, corny shit as usual. word count: 3.9k (throwing up) summary: the three times daniel wants you, and the one time he gets you. paring: daniel wagner x gn!reader now playing: silver springs - fleetwood mac "i follow you down/till the sound of my voice will haunt you/you'll never get away from the sound/of the woman that loves you."
It all starts when you’re eighteen, fresh off a breakup with a guy who cheated on you. You found him sleeping with a girl from your psych class after you introduced him to at a party. In hindsight, he wasn’t a loss or anything, but you were eighteen. You were stupid and in love and he was all that mattered to you.
After three months of moping around and being miserable because of him, your friend, Veronica, eventually convinced you to get over yourself and go out with her.
You obliged. It was three quarters of the way through your sophomore year and were determined to not let some guy who couldn’t even make you cum ruin your college experience.
And what was this wild experience your friend wanted to do to get you out of your funk?
Well, she decided it would be a concert. A rock concert.
You had heard of Greta Van Fleet a few times—Veronica was straight up obsessed with them. You mostly listened to music your ex-boyfriend listened to, and never really formed an opinion of your own on the matter. You had other stuff to do, you would defend.
At this point in their career, Greta Van Fleet was only just starting; They were playing a small venue nearby, as an opener.
Veronica convinced you to go super early and get a good view with her. What else were you supposed to do on a Saturday? Your homework?
And even you had to admit, they were pretty good. You enjoyed the passion they had for their shows, and they were all pretty good looking.
The drummer especially.
Veronica decided to stick around after their set, grabbing a drink with some guy she had met, while you went outside to smoke.
Smoking was a horrible habit you had picked up, and you fully intended to quit, it just never struck you as the right time. It was a late spring night, the air muggy and buzzing with the lights of the city. You had been going to school in New York for a little less than a year, and you loved every second of it. Sure, you missed your family, who you had left behind in Nashville, especially your sister, but you knew you needed to leave. Even for just a while.
“Can I borrow your lighter?” A voice asks. You whip your head only to see the drummer. What was his name again?
“Yeah, sure.” You take out your lighter and flick it on, letting him light his cigarette with it.
“Thanks.” There’s a silence that fills the air while you smoke, until he eventually extends a hand. “I’m Danny.”
You smile, shaking his hand and giving him your name before adding, “And I know who you are.”
“Oh, do you?”
“Yeah, you’re the drummer.” You say coolly, although your heart is racing.
“You like our music?”
“Now I do. Tonight, was your first show of mine.” You explain, “My friend is like,” You cough on smoke, “Obsessed with you.”
Feeling bold, Danny asks, “What if I want you to be obsessed with me?” And it makes you scoff, only you’re only doing it because you’re nervous.
“You flirt with all your fans like this, Drummer?”
“Only the pretty ones.” You just smirk. You don’t expect the next words out of his mouth to be, “Come with me to California.”
“What?” You laugh, unable to believe it.
“California. We’re releasing an album later this year, so you should see more of our shows before we become a huge hit.”
“I can’t go to California with you!” You grin, and by the way he’s smiling at you, you know he’s not expecting you to.
“Why not?”
“I have classes, for one!”
“Classes? So pretty and smart?”
“Oh my god, Shut up.”
“What are you majoring in?”
“English. I want to write. Whatever they’ll have me write, articles, books, what the fuck ever, you know what I mean?”
And he does. He gets it because that’s the way he feels about writing music.
“I get it.” He answers.
“So, I can’t come with you to California.”
“No, I guess not. But when you get a job writing, you’ll let me come find you? Ghostwrite my memoir, write a scathing review of us, what the fuck ever, as you so delicately put it?”
“Deal.” You agree.
“Then, I’ll see you, Sugar.” You stop at the name, turning to him. “What?” He asks.
“That’s what my family calls me.” He laughs. “I’m being serious!” You argue.
“No, you’re not—” He realizes you most definitely are. “Why would they call you that?”
“Because my sister is the nice one, and I am an asshole.”
“No fucking way.”
“What, did ‘What the fuck ever’ not give you enough of a hint? She’s Spice, and I’m Sugar, only Sugar stuck.” You say, finishing your cigarette.
“Well, Sugar. At least let me give you my number if I can’t take you to California.”
“Deal.” You agree, but before he can, his friends from the band are calling him, and you know Veronica must be wondering where you are. And he doesn’t have his phone on him or a pen, and your phone is dead.
Fuck.
“Hey—” He pulls you close with one arm, his other hand still with a cigarette. He puts it in his mouth so his hand can reach down and pull your lighter out of your pocket. “I’ll give this back when we meet again, alright?” He asks, his words a little murmured because of the cigarette.
You’re usually cynical. You could’ve told him to fuck off and took the lighter back. But you don’t.
Instead, you kiss his jaw and mutter, “Okay. Later, Drummer.” He pockets the lighter, and starts walking back to his friends, only backwards to face you still.
“See you soon, Sugar!” He calls.
It’s only when you get back to Veronica that your brain clears enough to remember that your full name is on the lighter. You hope he’ll use it to come find you.
• • •
So, the next few years fly by and before you know it, you’ve been out of school for around a year now, and you’re happier than ever. You’re staying in Tennessee, staying with your sister and your niece. You’re apartment hunting, starting a new job as soon as the New Year comes, but you have ulterior motives.
You’re getting ready in her bathroom as she leans against the door frame, watching you. Your niece sits on the edge of the tub. She just turned six and is learning all about the world. You love watching her grow, except for one teensy little thing—
“Why does Sugar get to go see Greta and I don’t?” She asks your sister.
“Because Sugar has big kid money, and you spend your allowance on Barbie.” Your niece just huffs. You grin as you finish fixing your hair. You crouch down to her level, and push hair from her face.
“How ‘bout this? I’ll take lots of photos for you, and get you a shirt, and I’ll take you on their next tour, okay?”          
She considers this for a moment.
“And you’ll say hi to Jake for me?” While you are in Danny Lane, Duh, she is strictly obsessed with Jake Kiszka.
“Of course, I will! Duh! He’s gonna love a message from his best girl.” You say it as if it’s obvious. She giggles and stands, giving you a quick hug before you have to leave.
“You’re so good with her. And nice too, I never expected that.” Your sister says as she walks you to the door.
“Don’t expect me to go soft with you, too. She’s the exception.” Your sister just smiles as she stands in the door, watching you walk down the walkway.
“Be safe!” She calls.
“Bye, Mom!” You say dramatically as you get in her car to drive to the venue with.
The show is amazing, as usual. Since their career has taken off, you’re only a more active fan, always keeping tabs.
You keep tabs to see if Danny is taking anyone. He does. You don’t know if that’s true for right now, but you know he has since you saw him. So have you. It’s ridiculous to assume you’d stop your lives for one flirty encounter when you were 18.
After the show, you notice people grouped around, waiting to see if the boys make an appearance. You don’t have anywhere to be. You stick around.
An hour or two passes. You smoke, lending cigarettes to other people waiting, and the number of folks start to dwindle down. But the summer is coming to an end, and you know that this might be one of the last times you can stay out this late without freezing for a while.
And wouldn’t you know it, Sam and Danny come out to say hi. And Sam is lovely, of course he is! He’s sweet and funny, and even more handsome in person.
But Danny makes your heart race. You grin to him, and it takes him a second before he breaks out in a grin, as he approaches you. Before you can say anything he just hugs you, and holds you for a while. He pulls away and looks at you, uttering your full name, as it was written on your lighter.
“Danny...” you say softly, and he just keeps smiling at you. His curls look healthier. He looks healthier.
“Hi, Sugar.” He says gently.
“You remembered that stupid nickname, Oh God...” you groan.
“And you still hate it.”
“Mm... maybe not so much when you say it. Maybe not when my niece says it.”  Because it stuck so well, your niece just grew up knowing your name as Sugar, and not much else.
“Your niece?”
“Stevie, she’s an angel, and in love with Jake Kiszka.” You admit.
“I’ll extend the message. Stevie, is that a reference to the true queen of breakup songs?”
“Yes, of course.” You assure. You can’t stop staring at him. His eyes wander down to your arm, to your wrist.
“Cool tattoo.” It’s a lighter. It’s corny, you know that. And part of you didn’t even get it because of him. Half of you just thought it would be cool. But there was a part that hoped he’d see it one day.
“Well, some asshole took my last lighter and hasn’t given it back, so I figured no one can steal this one.” He laughs and shakes his head.
“You’re funny, Sugar.”
“Well...” You shrug softly, “You can keep the lighter by the way.” You assured. “No hard feelings.” He grins, pulling it out of his pocket and waving it at you.
“Thanks. And hey, maybe I could give you something of mine, too?” This confuses you until he pulls off the necklace he’s wearing and drops it in your hands. You look down at it, and your face flushes. It’s a long leather cord, with a milky stone shaped like a moon.
“Does this mean I won’t be getting your number tonight?” You ask, as your hand closes over the necklace. He smiles at you and shakes his head.
“It wouldn’t be fair to either of us. I’m going to be on tour for a while, and you live in New York—”
“I’m moving to Tennessee. Nashville. For work.” You assure. He smiles wider.
“Then when I get back. I’ll come find you.” He speaks. “Are you in the writing business yet?”
“Getting there.” You tell him.
“Then I’ll find you in the future.” He assures, as Sammy calls his name back at the door where he came from. How come it always ends this way? How come you always have to say goodbye to him? Especially when he looks this good? Your heart aches for him already. You want him to kiss you. But instead, you lean up and kiss his jaw, and he smiles down at you when you pull away.
“See you soon, Sugar.” He says gently. It’s quieter this time. You know he means it. He pulls away, and takes one last long look at you, and turns just before you can see tears in his eyes, and just before he can see tears in yours.
• • •
The rest of the year flies, and your new job starts, about twenty minutes from where you live, and only fifteen from your sister and niece. You get a raise three months in, and it’s just in time for you to buy your niece tickets to the Starcatcher World Tour. You’ll be the first show of a long tour, and you know you can’t stay like you did last time. Besides, he won’t come out to see the fans, not after such a long night.
You bring something for him just in case.
But your niece and you have a great time, despite this being your first show without being in the pit. You have first row lower bowl seats.
Ticketmaster is your sworn enemy, and you’ve won every battle with them lately. Fuck ‘em.
Because it’s the first show of the tour, everything is new, and you don’t know what to expect. You especially don’t expect a ten-minute drum solo from Danny.
…It makes you want him desperately.
When they move to the B stage, you’re still a little caught up in him, but that is nothing compared to when they exit the B stage and start handing out flowers. Danny doesn’t really have any flowers, but Jake is walking right in front of him, and right towards you.
Your niece freaks the fuck out. Because she is a Jake girl, and Jake is right there. He sees her small hands and grins, handing her a rose, and clasping her hand with his for a moment before continuing his walk. You’re so caught up in this moment that you don’t register that Danny is quickly approaching.
And then you do, and you’re one of the many calling out to him, as he smiles and clasps his hands with theirs.
Instead of Danny, you call, “Hey, Drummer!” and somehow, during all this chaos, he sees you. And he’s grinning like an idiot.
He stops for a second, pulling you forward, and before you know it, he’s taking about twenty seconds to kiss you.
It’s deep, passionate, and full of the raw need that you’ve felt since seeing his drum solo. Everyone around you is freaking out as you slip what you bought to give him into his hand.
He must leave though, and he slips what you’ve given him in his pocket, pulling away, and whispering quickly,
“See you soon, Sugar.” He leaves, and you’re left to the screaming fans around you, including your niece, who can’t believe anything that just happened.
The show goes on, and there’s a new energy about Danny.
Everyone on twitter goes wild about your interaction.
When he gets off stage that night, he pulls out what you gave him from his pocket, and sees it’s a polaroid picture of you, in your bathing suit and sunglasses, on the beach.
He uses it to get through rough nights on tour.
• • •
The next year or so goes by in a whirlwind—In the worst way possible. Work is going well, you don’t date anymore, delusional about your Drummer, and for a while, everything is fine.
Until your sister slides off the road during a snowstorm and is killed on impact.
You go from taking care of Stevie when your sister needed a break, to being her legal guardian.
It is the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do. You balance your work life with your grief, newfound parental duties, and helping Stevie through the loss of her mother. Her father was never in her life, and you find yourself moving into your sister’s house, so Stevie doesn’t have to move schools.
You watch her attempt to process this huge loss at eight years old. She doesn’t listen to music anymore; she doesn’t want to celebrate her birthday and she doesn’t want to sleep without a nightlight.
You hold her while she cries for her mom.
You hold your mom while she cries for her daughter.
No one holds you as you sob, longing for your sister.
You will yourself to be good. To be nice and not let the grief suffocate you, you need to be there for your best girl, she cannot do this without you. But it’s so hard. You’re angry with the world, with yourself, with her, why couldn’t she have just stayed the night at her friends? You will yourself to channel that stupid nickname. You will yourself to be good.
The winter is hard, but as the season thaws, so does your grief. It’s still hard, but the kitchen fills again with the smell of pizza and baked goods, with the sound of Foo Fighters and Guns N Roses, and with your niece’s laughter.
You talk about your sister openly, never hiding your own grief from Stevie, and never being afraid to tell her stories of her mom.
You get a tattoo on what would have been your sister’s birthday. It’s just her birth flower.
Under it, in her handwriting, is “Sugar and Spice.” It’s right beneath your lighter tattoo. It’s the only time you’ve ever cried getting a tattoo.
Summer comes, and your office has no A.C. It’s a critically hot day in Nashville, Stevie is being watched by your mom. You’re editing a new chapter from a high-end client, just finishing it up before you head home for the day. Really, your day ended ten minutes ago, but you’re still working. Until you get a call from your office’s front lobby.
When you answer it, it’s just Jane, the security guard.
“Hey, Jane, what can I do for you?” You ask, rubbing your eyes from finally unfocusing from your computer screen.
“Hey, Kid. Just wanted to see if you were okay with company. Pretty boy says he’s here to see you.” You furrow your brows. Pretty boy? There have been no pretty boys in your life recently.
“What’s his name?” You ask quizzically. You hearJane asking for a name.
“Says his names Danny, and—” You stand, making sure your draft is saved before you turn off your computer, grabbing your things, and remembering she’s waiting for a response.
“Uh—Tell him I’ll be right there!” You say quickly before hanging up, then dash to the elevator, wishing it to go faster. It takes forever.
When the doors open, he stands in front of you, as if he was waiting to take the next elevator up. You just grin and lunge, hugging him tightly. He returns the sentiment. You hold each other there, just embracing each other and taking the other in. You pull away to really look at him.
You haven’t been active on social media since you took guardianship of Stevie, too busy. So, you haven’t seen him in a while. He looks phenomenal. His hair is shorter, but he wears two gold hoop earrings, a grey muscle tee, and has the same smile. His hair has this slight highlight to it, and his skin is tanner, his freckles enunciated.
You want to kiss him.
But you stand back from him for a moment to turn to Jane and thank her, and then you pull him outside, onto the busy streets. You walk for a few minutes in silence, turning here and there. You eventually lead him to duck into a quiet, relatively clean alley way. It’s in a quieter part of town, and you lean against one wall, unbuttoning the first two buttons of your shirt, heart racing in anticipation. He leans against the wall, looking at you.
He can see the leather cord around your neck. It pushes him over the edge.
Suddenly, his hands are on your cheeks as he begins kissing you. His lips are just as soft as you remember, but his hands are rough. They must be calloused, even blistered from guitar and drums. You deepen the kiss. It’s heavy, and hot, much like the day around you.
It makes you want him more.
You pull him closer, by grabbing his shirt and pulling him against you. He tilts his head for better access, slipping his tongue into your mouth. You’ve wanted this for years. Your hands leave his shirt, trailing up to tangle in those locks of his.
You finally pull away when you can’t stand to be without air anymore. But as soon as you do, you find yourself kissing him again. Not as deeply this time, but with just as much need. You kiss him again and again, your skin burning.
When he pulls away for real, panting, he leans his head on the wall behind you, his hot breath on your collar bone.
“Found me, Drummer…”
“Found you, Sugar…” He says softly.
“How? Why?” He pulls back to look at your face.
“How? You’re on your company’s website. Why? What do you mean why? Why? Because for the past six fucking years, I have only had enough of you to keep me wanting you, and every time I’m able to stop dreaming about you and your perfect lips, I am pulled back in by fate, seeing you always. And when I kissed you last year... It snapped something in me. You ruined everyone else for me, and I still had to wait. I don’t want to wait anymore. I’m not on tour, I’m here for a long time. I need you...” He says your name gently when he realizes you have this terrified look on your face.
“I… I can’t just… Danny, I’m my niece’s legal guardian. I will always have an obligation to her first, I can’t run off with you… Can’t go with you to California...” You tell him weakly.
“That’s okay.” In truth, Danny always wanted kids, and sure, he wasn’t planning on a kid just now, but he’s sure you can make this work. “When did this happen?”
“January… When my sister died.” You tell him, your voice barely above a whisper, yet it cracks with emotion. He just kisses you quickly and holds you.
“I still need you. I’d love to meet your niece.” He says once you’ve pulled away. You grin.
“She’s a big fan of yours.”
“More of a Jake girl, I hear.” He smirks. It makes you laugh.
You straighten yourself out, ready to take him to your house, have him meet Stevie, and just jump into it. Fuck it. What have you got to lose after waiting for him for six years?
Before you can make it out of the alley, he grabs your hand and says your name again. He takes out his—your lighter, and places it in your hand. You gave up smoking the night your sister died.
“I don’t need it right now, sugar. I told you, when I saw you again, it would be yours. And now we don’t have to say goodbye in two minutes.” It’s enough to make you lean forward and kiss him again.
You take his hand and begin walking with him. There’s no need to long for him anymore.
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witchpassing · 3 months ago
Text
catching strays [3]
[previous.] [first.]
Two weeks pass: long enough for Katya to think this is all over, not long enough for her to get the taste out of her mouth. All attempts at a palate cleanser have failed and failed miserably; when she finally did pull, she couldn’t get that stupid fucking pilot out of her head for long enough to finish. And, yes, obviously it’s good that she didn’t have her, obviously this is idiotic, self-annihilating, pure thanatos shit. The sucking gravitational pull of a point of no return.
Doe was good with her tongue, so good she could contract the world down to a single white-hot point. Would Rook have been good like that, too?
Thoughts of this kind squirm in the basement of her brain as she walks to the tram stop nearest her office. Quiet winter dark, the falling snow gentling the city’s lines and edges, giving her fidgeting attention nothing to hook itself into.
When she gets to her stop, Rook is there.
She stands unseen for a while, a few yards down the street, watching Rook’s breath haze in the cold light, the snow settling on the shoulders of her beat-up tanker jacket. Her left hand, the one with the carbide fingers, is folded deep into her pocket; Katya remembers something she heard once, about neural-throughput prosthetics aching in winter. A million openers spill unbidden through her brain, most of them off-the-rack, all of them dead wrong. Buy me a drink? Small world. Did you tell anyone what we did? I’m sorry. Do you come here often?
“Hey,” is what she goes with in the end, as she mounts the platform’s steps with a rock in her stomach. “I know things didn’t… I mean, hi. You look good.”
Staring down the barrel of a cold and silent nothing.
“Listen, sweetheart,” Jesus fuck, girl, say something, “I think we got off on the wrong foot last time, why don’t we…” A hateful note of desperation in her voice, no matter how hard she tamps down on it. “... There’s a nice place a few blocks from here, I could buy you a drink. Start things fresh. You know?”
“Don’t know you,” Rook says, and turns away.
Snow continues to fall.
Rook, someone is saying. A woman on a bench a little way along the platform, a woman you could see anywhere. Mousy brown hair and eyes that are probably green, and Rook, standing by her shoulder, is looking down at her like the most important thing in the world. Words in soft voices, muted by the snow.
Was that a friend of yours?
No. A mixup.
Oh. The tram-
And Katya just has to stand there, while this presumably very nice lady gives her an apologetic smile, and boards the tramcar with Rook, and leaves her on the platform alone.
-
And then, months later, impossibly, she comes back.
It’s the end of another work week - which is to say that it’s Thursday fucking evening - and Katya is getting drunk in a tolerable little place, just off the street that used to be called Empire Avenue and is now called something else. (This four-days-on-three-days off thing, by the way, is the worst of the myriad ways in which the Reds are reinventing the wheel. What the fuck is a reasonable adult supposed to do with a three-day weekend every week?)
Rook comes down the stairs around seven, boots loud on the concrete, sees Katya as Katya sees her. Their gazes meet across the room, just for a second, and the need in the pits of her eyes is not entirely human. Katya knows that hunger, the secret names the bureaucrats gave it, what it takes to grind it so deep into the meat of a human brain that it never washes out. And yet it still feels wrong to see it here, in a well-lit room full of real people.
She’s closer now, weaving between the tables at a pace that is, in Katya’s ex-pro opinion, a pointed agony of self control. A man who’s been drinking here since mid-afternoon fails to get out of the way; she walks through him, spills him against the bar. Noise, clamour; what the fuck, man? - Aw, you’re fine. Leave it. Nothing registers. Halfway across the room. Katya makes herself look somewhere else. Photograph tacked above the bar (details illegible from here; Polaroid blur in white square, a faint suggestion of faces). Bartender, young, shaking head and doing nothing. Dog-eared poster for a nobody band. Rook is at her table now.
If she thinks Katya is going to make this easy for her after that little performance at the tram stop, she’s got another thing coming. Katya keeps her eyes front and doesn’t say a damn thing. Makes Rook stand there, empty-handed, for as long as it takes.
“I’ve been looking for you,” is all Rook has to say for herself, in the end. Katya takes a mouthful of her drink, just to make her endure silence for the maximum possible number of seconds. (Sweet and red, and not a third as strong as she’d like now.) Then, looking up at last, with all the lilting bile that pushing-fifty years of frigid dyke may draw:
“Is - that - so. Because, Rook, I really got the impression that you never wanted to see me again.”
Pain passes somewhere beneath the surface of the ex-pilot’s face. No bruises this time, and Katya was right, she does look worse without them. She leans in, puts her palm on the table with the nervous air of a conspirator. Glances back at the stairs as she does it. Still scared of being caught, Katya thinks. The fear Katya shared with her in the half-light of the apartment walkway seems contemptible to her now, early in the evening, among the tolerant people.
Involuntarily, like a spasm, she thinks about slapping her. The way the bruise would bloom over her cheekbone, purple-black and so very earned.
“Katya, that–” Another twitchy checkup on the door, another inch closer. Trouble with one-exit rooms, is it? “That was my – therapist.” She hears the way the word hangs on Rook’s tongue, like it’s not the one that person is filed under internally. An insane stab of jealousy, low in her gut. The woman who was with her on the tram platform, barely printed upon Katya’s memory, a smear of brown hair and greenish eyes. Would have paid a little more attention if she’d known what she was. “You told me nobody could know. It was an order.”
So the order took, then, went in deep and stuck there. That’s good. That’s really good, actually, and the best thing to do now would be to walk out of here and never talk to her again. All that fantasising about Rook’s head between her thighs that was just that: fantasy, an understimulated psyche playing with annihilatory dreams like a schoolgirl writing letters to an axe killer.
Hell, she could even make Rook pay her tab for her on the way out. That’d be fun. Instead, she says: “If you wanted to see me so goddamn bad, why didn’t you go to my house?”
Rook licks her lips. “Because I didn’t want you going to mine.”
“The pound?” Katya snorts. “Idiot. As if they’d let me.”
Silence, the ambient clink and murmur of the bar, into which Katya says nothing. It’s Rook’s move again; she’s the one wants this, needs this. Not Katya. Lesk is a big city; there are other women. Other transsexuals too, for that matter. You see a lot more of them around these days, and they go for an older lesbian the same as they ever did. Perhaps that uptick in frequency takes the edge off the fun a little, dulls the feathery thrill of a rare find, but you can’t say it isn’t convenient.
Besides, she has something to lose now. She’s safe, the knowledge of that abortive hookup sealed airtight between Rook and herself by the pilot’s damaged brain. If she does something to Rook, lets Rook talk her into doing something to her, that might change.
“I’ll-” Rook tries to stop talking, it seems like, but it’s only a moment before something inside her gives. The plea forces itself out, barely above a whisper. “I’ll beg, Katya. If that’s what you want. I know I made it - difficult, for you, that night. I was upset, that’s all, it can be easier-”
“Fuck me,” Katya hisses, leaning back in her seat, disgust coiling hot in her abdomen - yes, only disgust, only ever disgust. It was just a job, for God’s sake; just a thing someone told her to start doing, one day at base, and she clicked her heels and said yes, sir because it meant a nicer salary and better leave and she hadn’t read the fine print. “You actually would, wouldn’t you. Is that a threat, Rook? Going to throw yourself on your knees and kiss my shoes, something like that? Make everybody in this room think I’m sick the way you’re sick?”
She thinks to herself, as a good person would would, as a sensible person would: Shouldn’t I get to stop? Even the other sinners in the programme, the ones too unlucky, too proud, too slow to worm out from between the teeth of the tribunals, the ones they lined up against the wall - they got to fucking stop.
This is what she tells herself now, in the moment. Later, in memory, the fact that she sat there in all her burning disgust and did not leave will weigh like a headstone.
Rook gives a long, shuddering breath, as if finally realising the depth of the pit she’s hanging over. When she speaks again, it is low, urgent. Last stop, and she knows it.
“Look. Katya. I know you’re angry.” For a second, the shape of the phrase makes Katya think Rook is trying to propitiate her, make it all okay in some fawning, facile, idiotic way. But the hunger pushes through, a feverish pulse: “Angry at me. Angry at a lot of things. The Reds, the world they took from you, the way everybody’s come around on all the shit you hate. Your life - the life you had, the one you wanted - you were comfortable, right? You were doing okay, you were making something of yourself, nice house and a nice car and a retirement fund, and now that life is dead. Casualty of revolution. Right?”
“I’m getting the impression that, back on the program, they didn’t hit you as often as they should have.” A blind jab, tossed out in search of tender flesh. She doesn’t find it, Rook doesn’t stop, faster and faster, pushing ahead like she’s closing in on something.
“This, all of this - it isn’t working for you. I know, I saw the room where you live, where you sleep - it was dead too, a dead place. It doesn’t work for you any better than it works for me, no place for things like us in the clean bright world they’re building–”
Katya rears to her feet, spitting through her teeth, “We are not the same, hound-”
Rook holds her gaze, takes the fury and does not flinch, though the thing behind her eyes with all the twelve-syllable neurochemical names cowers from it like an animal.
“Yes, we are. Handler.”
For a moment, neither of them moves. People are looking - of course people are looking, they’re making a scene. How loud did their voices get, towards the end there? How many heard the incriminating words? Another black pin in the map of places Katya can never go again.
Somehow, that seems to be what tips her over the edge, the final drop that bursts the river: that this is a tolerable place to get drunk, and Rook has spoiled it for her.
“First, you’re going to pay my tab,” Katya says, as she shrugs into her coat. “Then we’re going back to my place; you can pay for the cab, too, while you’re at it.”
Rook’s throat works. “And then?” she says, knowing, needing to hear it.
“Then, Rook,” Katya answers, “You’re going to get what you fucking deserve.”
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