#extra long and still ongoing
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holycrapitsbags · 9 months ago
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I have come to the conclusion that Girl Genius is like the steampunk one piece of webcomics and I don’t know what to do with this information…
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fadewalking · 2 years ago
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I think my lizard is going to die :(
Hey guys, my pet lizard is pretty sick, and I cannot afford to take her to a vet because my dog has also recently been sick and all of my money has gone to his vet bills. My dog is fine for right now, but the lizard is not.
She is open mouth breathing (really bad sign), has been refusing food, and thus has lost weight. I suspect she has a respiratory infection. If I were to be able to take her to a vet, I believe they would prescribe her Baytril (antibiotic to fight the infection) and Critical Care to increase her weight, and maybe also something special to soak her in rather than just warm water, just to help keep her hydrated as she is also looking dehydrated. With all of this, I imagine I would be looking at a bill of around $150-$200, or maybe even a little bit more, which i simply do not have right now, especially since I cannot work for the next 4 weeks.
I really don't want to lose her. So I am asking for money to take her to a vet. If I can raise at least $150-$175, I can find a way to cover the rest if it ends up being a bit more than that.
I started a fundraiser on paypal, so if y'all could please consider helping her, or sharing/boosting this post, I would really appreciate it. https://www.paypal.com/pools/c/8Rv9LhIQz9
In the meantime, my plan for her care is twice daily soaks in warm water to keep her hydrated, keeping her in a smaller quarantine tank so I can easily monitor her health as right now she is in a larger one with a mate. She might be eating, but i can't really tell since the other one may be the one getting the food, but I've just moved her to the smaller tank, so I will try to give her some food. If she doesn't eat over the weekend, I have some liquid meal that I can syringe feed to her, but she hates being handled like that. But keeping her fed and hydrated is really all I can do to help make her more comfortable while she tries to fight the infection. There is nothing I can do for her respiratory infection without medical treatment. If any reptile owners out there have any advice for me, i'd appreciate it.
This is her:
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“Are you… sniffing me?” you asked your monster husband.
He had just gotten home and like always the first thing he insisted on was spending a few minutes with you sitting on his lap while he nuzzled against you.
Tonight though you noticed something a little different. Normally he just nuzzled his cheeks and jaw against the top of your head, an attempt to scent you, but this time you were certain he was sniffing your hair.
“You smell good” he sounded slightly embarrassed, but did not stop.
“I was outside all day, I haven’t taken a bath yet! I’m all sweaty still”.
“And you smell good” he reiterated.
You could feel his erection pressing against your backside, and the not so subtle feeling of him grinding his hips up against you.
“And right now I really just want to bury my face between your legs”.
The moment you let him, he was between your legs, lifting your hips to get his long tusks under your thighs to get close enough to you. While he was always fairly vocal this was another thing entirely, loudly moaning the whole time when he was not taking deep breaths.
Between his large tongue reaching your most sensitive spot and how he purred the whole time you lost count of how many times you finished on his tongue. Once he stopped he stayed with his head leaned against your thigh though, still clearly enjoying your scent.
You scratched the top of his head affectionately and he nuzzled your thigh back, “So, should I put off bathing until after you get home then?” you teased.
“Please”.
(Husband is from an ongoing series, but something’s there are general extra bonus thoughts lol)
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comehereduck · 27 days ago
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If I think about staple fic recs for SV, these come to mind:
- I Wish You Were My Husband by Feynite
- The Grand Unified Theory of Shen Qingqiu by 00janeblonde
- Metagaming by Esama
Also, a personal fave of mine (if you like ballet AUs):
- Songs of a Wayfarer by foxflowering
this is literally my first day on tumblr and honestly kind of my first time interacting with the fandom at large so if anyone would be so kind as to recommend some of the 'fandom staple' svsss fics id be much appreciative
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jji-lee · 1 month ago
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ᡣ𐭩 。ꪆৎ ˚⋅rent-a-girlfriend.com
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maybe you should've deleted that stupid girlfriend rental website you made years ago. and maybe you should've ignored park jisung's very desperate request to pay for a fake girlfriend. but hey, it's easy money, not like you'll fall in love with him or anything... right?
basically, even though the rent-a-girlfriend site isn't actually in service... who would say no to $40 an hour and free dates with park jisung?
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fuckboy!jisung x fem!reader
genre : humor , strangers to lover , fake dating , college au , fluff fluff fluff(jisungs a fuckboy but he's still a dork) , oblivious jisung and y/n , miscommunication trope most likely, crack alternate storyline of cryptic crush
warnings : sex jokes , death jokes , mean insults and comments , jisung a lil freak , should probably read cryptic crush before this one if u haven't (i will be making inside jokes)
notes : im weak for fake dating aus. i'm playing it cool and i'm just gonna let this one flow. i like to focus on the comedic points of my smaus so this one will be no different, but i kinda want like a longing pining type of feel once they start liking each other yk... is it fake dating without secretly crushing on each other? gonna take it slow and see how the plot develops
playlist : kiss me , sixpence none the richer | linger , the cranberries | heaven knows im miserable now , the smiths | valentine , laufey | bad habit , steve lacy | n side , steve lacy | lovers rock , tv girl | glue song , beabadoobee
status : ongoing , updates x2 a week , tuesdays and thursdays
taglist : open !
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yn’s group , ji’s group
intro
1~ IN THIS ECONOMY????
2~ big booty latina
3~ head for a mcflurry
4~ didn't wipe the what.
5~ something is off…
6~ get real
7~ A TWINK????
TBD
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extras :
TBD
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peppertoastuniverse · 6 months ago
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pep reads: fluffiest fluff edition
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I've just been CONSUMING so many jjk fanfics... here are the softest fluffiest fic recommendations since I think we all need it right now. This list is in no particular order – there's so many talented writers out there! These ones just made me MELT extra hard. Mostly no smut, I just needed to be held.
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gojo satoru
☆ only you by Kaiseriin [A03: mini series] [status: unknown] [Cursed speech!reader] Other than Gojo, not many people understand the sign language you use to communicate as a cursed speech user. When some students from Kyoto arrive, one tries to learn so he can get closer to you.
☆ summer skies, winter lies by miyaspudding [A03: long fic!][status: ongoing]
"how cruel was fate? how much had he sinned in his past life, for the woman he loved to belong to his best friend? how little did god love him?"
in which gojo satoru learns that emotions are not weaknesses but consolations; and geto suguru realizes that he's always been a little too late for everything. because the furthest distance is an inch away, and the furthest thing from truth is "just friends".
☆best of luck. by reinerispretty [A03: one shot! part of a mini series] [status: unknown] In which Gojo Satoru shows up unannounced, twice.
☆Ah, you were both equally idiotic by Hiroka [A03: mini series] [status: unknown]
4 times others realized something was going on between Gojo and you, and 0 times you both realized it.
[Oneshots from the Old Beats Cinematic Universe]
☆ For A God, Shopping Is a New Adventure by Bun_sun [AO3] [status: on going!] [Baker!reader]
“Would you like anything else?” “Actually, yeah.” He flashes you a grin that only promises trouble, pushing his sunglasses down with a way too exaggerated flirty expression. “Can I get your number too?” “Haha, really funny Gojo. Now, I have more clients so...” But he's already getting his phone out, as if he hasn't listened to a single word you've said. “...Oh, you're for real.” ~ ~ ~ ~ Reader owns a small cafe with their own baked goods. Gojo comes in one day, and absolutely falls in love with their pastries (and with them).
☆ I Want to Kiss You / キスしたい by arminsumi [A03][status: unknown]
You and Satoru falling in love despite a language barrier.
You've come to visit Japan to meet these two boys you met online. Though Satoru can't speak English and you can't speak Japanese, the two of you still fall in love. There's seems to be romantic tension between you and Suguru, too.
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geto suguru
it's so hard to find suguru fics without him being used as a plot device for gojo
☆ gentle glow / deep thought by waffiez [AO3: one shot] [status: completed] "I thought about you, you know." Despite the softness of his voice, it cut through the otherwise silent atmosphere profoundly and made your heart skip a beat. "Is that so?" "It is." ☆☆☆ in which you awake to your best friend suguru asleep at the edge of your bed, having returned from a lengthy mission and only really wanting to see you.
☆ unnamed drabble by @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat [tumblr: drabble] [status: completed]
comfy fluff w sleepy needy sugu <33)
☆ Wash It Away by @shadowsandshapes [A03/tumblr: drabble][status: completed]
Sometimes you forget Geto is just a guy. But then he shows a sense of vulnerability that surprises you. After a particularly emotionally draining battle, you run him a warm bath and take care of his aches. ☆ Wisteria and Ciabatta by @hayakawalove [A03/tumblr: mini fic!][status: completed, chapter 2 has smut!]
Traveling merchant Suguru has led a relatively tame life thus far. Growing his flowers, baking his bread. One day, when he ventures out further than normal he comes across something more beautiful than all the flowers in the world. You. ☆ the paint doesn't move the way the light reflects by @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat [tumblr: long oneshot!] [status: completed]
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bonus!
☆ Digest Your Feelings (DYF) – First Years! by @whalesforhands [A03/tumblr: part of a longer series of fics] [status: completed] new classmates, new life, new friends(?). a look into the life of the dyf au characters in their first year.
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runariya · 25 days ago
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Crash Course in Love • 2
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pairing: snowboard instructor!Jungkook x ex-gf!reader (feat. platonic OT6) genre: rom-com, Exes 2 Lovers, slow-burn, angst rating: 18+, MDNI warnings: strong language, slow burn, angst, fluff, tension, bad communication skills, jealousy, alcohol, smoking, heartbreak, lmk if I forgot smth word count: 17.3k
a/n: 19 days later and here's part 2 at last! hope you like it still and I can't wait to see your reactions lol DON’T HATE ME! LOVE YOU ALL 💕 ENJOY
a/n 2: This work is purely fictional. All characters and events are entirely imaginary and do not reflect reality. No translations are allowed without permission. Thank you for understanding! 💕
01 • masterlist • 03
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Day 2
There’s something about the way you crash after a day that’s drained you not just physically but emotionally too. After your bath and after you grabbed your luggage when you were sure Jungkook wouldn’t be in his room anymore, and with your stomach still full from the Korean BBQ at Tae’s, you passed out immediately. Yoongi’s snoring didn’t bother you in the slightest—if anything, the vibrations seemed to massage your sore body through the mattress.
You feel even more lost when you wake up just after 5:30 in the morning, fully rested but with muscles still stiff. You’re not sure if Tae’s smoothie did anything or if you’d feel completely dead now without it. It’s not that you want to go back to sleep either, knowing you’ll just wake up even more tired if you try, experience showing that extra hours do more harm than good. 
Not wanting to listen to Yoongi’s ongoing snoring any longer, you carefully slip out of bed without waking him and reach for the book you brought with you. But just as you’re about to head out of the suite, you stop, eyeing Yoongi’s coat. 
Should you?
You quit smoking months ago, only started when you broke things off with Jungkook, but just thinking about everything that was said yesterday—and what’s still to come—makes you struggle. You’ll probably hate yourself for it afterwards, but still, you go back to his coat and rummage for his cigarettes and lighter. 
Realising you only brought one pair of boots, which are currently at Hope’s, and there’s no way you’re stepping out into the snow in slippers or your snowboard boots, you grab Yoongi’s spare designer boots and your snowboard jacket as well. 
It’s impressive, really, that you manage to carry everything out of the room without dropping anything, and that Yoongi stays sound asleep despite the obvious rustling of your coat as you move.
You’re thankful Namjoon kept his word about keeping the fireplace lit, not just because its warmth meets you in the corridor but also for the soft glow it casts along the way to the main area.
Pausing for a second, you can hear Yoongi still snoring through the door, along with louder, muffled snores further down the corridor, which must be Namjoon’s. And, who would’ve thought, you hear some very light snoring coming from Jungkook’s room too.
It feels like you’re walking past caves in some forgotten time, surrounded by Neanderthals who snore more to fend off predators than from sinus problems. It’s funny in a way, you reckon. That’s just how biology works, even if you and every other woman in this world are the ones who suffer through the night because of it.
As you reach the main area, of course, you can’t manage all the things you’re holding, and your book falls to the floor, the sound louder than it should be. You think it didn’t wake anyone, but you’re not sure—Jungkook might be awake, he’s always been a light sleeper, though Namjoon’s snoring is too loud now to tell.
Not bothering to pick it up, knowing you’ll drop something else if you try, you kick the book towards the couches, hoping none of the great authors are cursing you for it. The heat of the fireplace, even though it’s only simmering, pulls you to sink back into the cushions once you’ve set your things down.
The hostel feels so much cosier than by daytime, long shadows casting a warm, festive glow like Christmas morning. You almost wish you’d spent the holiday here instead of alone at home.
Just yesterday, you longed for Jungkook to be by your side, to experience this place and this town with you. But now, even though he is here, it doesn’t feel as fulfilling as you thought it would.
Obviously, he’s been here before, and even when he’s spending time with you, it’s under circumstances you wish were different. It destroys you how things are, how you’re treating each other, how much hatred he clearly has for you now, just at the sight of you.
You understand his bitterness though, understand that he probably wishes he’d never seen you again. But what can you do? It’s not like you booked this hostel on purpose, as if you orchestrated the whole thing just to run into him.
No, it’s all just a coincidence. A brutal one at that. You didn’t have time to prepare yourself, didn’t have time to think about how you’d approach him after all this time, or what you’d say.
You reckon he feels the same—blindsided, overwhelmed, hurt. And he has every reason to be. Still, it hurts so deeply, so excruciatingly, that you just want to leave and never look back. It feels like there’s no saving your relationship with Jungkook, not even the hope of being friends.
Or maybe this trip will be the closure you need. Maybe it’ll be the final heartbreak, the one that’s been dragging on for far too long, but now will come to a head and let you move on, even though deep down you don’t want to. You’re sure Jungkook was the one for you—a love once in a lifetime, the one who got away.
Tossing the book from one hand to the other, your eyes can’t help but linger on the pack of cigarettes lying on the table in front of you. It’s dumb, smoking—you know that, always have. But God, you’re broken. You’re so, so sad, it’s suffocating. And you know it won’t help.
You know smoking, like any other addiction, is just a result of loneliness. That doesn’t make it any easier to resist.
You set the book down, slip into Yoongi’s boots again, and pull on your coat, ignoring the voice in your head telling you not to backslide, not to undo months of progress. But still, you ignore that voice as much as you ignore Namjoon’s snoring, and grab the pack and lighter and stand to head outside once you’re fully clothed. 
You’d forgotten about the chime when you open the front door, pausing for a moment as if it’s trying to stop you, but you keep moving, letting the door shut behind you as the early morning greets you. 
The streets are empty, the air biting cold. But the fairy lights are still on, their glow reflecting silently off the snow and ornaments, but you can’t bring yourself to enjoy it.
Your breath fogs with every exhale as you slowly open the cigarette pack, your hands turning rosy in the cold, warmth steaming off them like dumplings.
You take one out, slip the pack into your coat pocket, and toy with the cigarette between your fingers. 
Should you?
You know you shouldn’t.
You.
Know.
But no one’s here to stop you. Who would even care? So you put it between your dry lips and light it, guarding the flame with your hand as if to stop it from dying the way your heart did.
The first drag is equal parts disgusting and relieving, and soon, your thoughts start to fade. Your chest feels lighter, despite the toxins filling it. Maybe breaking up with Jungkook was the first step towards your own downfall. Maybe it was always meant to be.
The front door opens behind you when you’re halfway through your cigarette, but you don’t turn around. There are only three options for who might join you—Yoongi, up for his first smoke of the day; Namjoon, woken by the chime and curious to see what’s going on; or Jungkook. Though you wouldn’t know why it’d be the latter.
“Smoking kills.”
“So does snowboarding,” you reply through the puff of smoke escaping your lips.
“Fair.”
Silence. You can’t bring yourself to look at Jungkook, now standing beside you, both of you staring at some distant ornament, avoiding each other’s gaze.
“What are you doing out here this early?” he asks, as if it’s not obvious.
“Thought I’d get some fresh air.”
There’s no humour in your tone, just defeat, and those few words seem to sap the last bit of energy you have. You feel like you’ve had the same effect on Jungkook—his voice is as dry as yours.
“Funny.”
You know you can’t undo all the damage between you and Jungkook, but still, you want to at least be civil.
“I’m sorry you have to be our instructor. I didn’t know.”
“Sounds like you wouldn’t have booked it if you’d known.”
You shrug. “Probably.”
“Is seeing me again really that unbearable?”
It is.
Of course it is. But only because you can’t bear seeing him having moved on. So you shrug again.
“I see.”
You take the last drag of your cigarette, drop it into the snow, and stomp it out before immediately reaching for another.
“It’s really bad for you.”
“Why do you care, Jungkook?”
“Because you—”
“Please, just let me be, Jungkook.”
It’s desperate, your plea, resigned. And when you finally lock eyes with him, it almost hurts as much as on the day you broke up with him. He looks like he’s stepped straight out of a dream, the smoke from your cigarette swirling up into the sky between you. He’s so beautiful, especially in the morning when he’s just rolled out of bed. But his hurt eyes—hurt that you caused—are something you can’t handle.
“I never did you wrong.”
His words hit like a slap, and you reckon you deserve it, deserve even more, so you let him continue, knowing he’s far from done.
“Why did you leave me?”
You can’t meet his eyes now. Not just because tears burn in the corners of both yours and his, but because you can’t bring yourself to tell him the truth—that you were never worthy of him. That you were never the one for him, not when he’s found someone like Hara, who fits him so much better. So you shrug again, trying to swallow the lump in your throat as your shaky hands lift the cigarette to your lips for another long drag, hoping he’ll think it’s just the cold affecting you, not the emotions welling up inside.
“God, ___.” You see Jungkook look up at the dark sky, rubbing his hands violently against his face and eyes in your peripheral vision. You’re not sure if it’s out of anger, frustration, or pain, and you’re not sure you want to know.
“I’m sorry,” you force out, losing the fight against your tears as they silently roll down your cheeks. Quickly, you turn around, trying to make it back inside before Jungkook notices your breakdown. 
“For leaving me, or for being with me in the first place?”
“Both.”
You don’t stop, can’t stop even if you tried. Bolting straight into the hostel, you leave your book where you placed it earlier, your only aim to escape, to get to your suite as fast as possible. Away from all you’ve done and can’t take back. 
It’s not like it’s really possible for you to get away from Jungkook, not when he’s still not only very much physically present but still consumes every thought and every space in your heart. It breaks you to see his pain, breaks you even more because you don’t know how to fix it. You’ve created a mess, of the whole situation and of your and his heart, that’s impossible to mend now.
Even if you could, the hurt has left wounds and open scars, which won’t ever heal, especially on Jungkook’s soul, and you reckon he’ll never want you back to begin with.
The door to the suite slams shut behind you, waking up Yoongi, who just turns to look at your broken self, tears still running down in waves.
“Talked to Jungkook?”
“Yes,” you sob.
“Next time, try at daytime, it’s not as emo.”
Well, thank you very much. As if that would have changed a thing. But you don’t bicker this time, knowing that somewhere in Yoongi’s words lies the truth, even if you’re not able to accept it in this moment.
Kicking off his boots and yeeting them across the room where he placed them before you took them, and letting your coat fall off your shoulders, you don’t pay attention to Yoongi’s scolding, disappearing into the bathroom to take a cleansing shower, or rather, to let all the emotions and tears out without being bothered and without being a bother to Yoongi.
It doesn’t take long before the hot water mixes with your tears and for you recognise that you need to somehow get your head straight, or get it checked, because it’s only the second day. A lot more is to come, and you’ll be regretting it if you just wave the white flag and leave. If there’s nothing else you can do, nothing that can help you heal and move on, you want to at least help Jungkook to do so.
You owe it to him, and frankly, that was the main point of why you broke up in the first place. You’ll need to forget your own hurt for the time being, answer all his questions without breaking down again, and you’ll start with that as soon as you’re out of the shower.
“Hurry up! I need to take a piss!”
You’re glad you had half a mind to lock the door, but still, the banging of Yoongi’s fist disturbs you so much, you won’t be able to neither cry nor think in peace.
“Ten more minutes!”
“I’ll piss on your pillow! Open the fucking door!”
Ew. Sighing, you rinse the rest of your shampoo out, hurrying to at least wrap a towel around yourself before unlocking the door. You’re not able to push the handle down because Yoongi bolts inside, ripping his pants down and immediately starting to empty his bladder.
“Ew, gross!”
“Next time, your pillow, ___,” Yoongi sighs, but you’ve already fled the scene. As relatives, you’re close, yes, but not that close.
Nonetheless, you’re thankful for this distraction, even if it just helped you not be dragged further into the blue.
Hearing Yoongi close and lock the bathroom door and turning on the shower does the rest as you now stand fully dressed, with dripping wet hair, in the middle of the suite.
You know there’s no way he’ll open that door back up again, even if you’d knock as violently as he did just now. He simply doesn’t give a fuck. So you see no other option but to get some breakfast with wet hair, knowing there’s not much time left before you’re back on the slopes, or rather the beginner’s hill.
The corridor is empty again, though you hear some chatter from Namjoon and Jungkook down the way. Taking a very deep breath, you try to school your face into happiness, or at least neutrality.
You find both with Jimin in the dining area, the latter unpacking his bread and some pastries onto the table.
“Good morning,” you try to sound as cheerful as possible, but as you lock eyes with Jungkook, you know he notices the red rim around your eyes.
“Hey! Look what I’ve got for you.” Jimin practically explodes with happiness as he gets a see-through box of macarons out of his paper bag.
“No way! Jimin, that wasn’t necessary! Thank you!” You can’t help the genuine smile that spreads across your face, hands eagerly grabbing for them as you unbox them against your stomach, too occupied to even sit down.
“But I wanted to. I’ve never seen someone so obsessed with these.” Jimin laughs his beautiful laugh at your already stuffed smile, as Namjoon just smirks, and Jungkook, well…Jungkook just seems odd.
“Here, at least sit down.” Namjoon offers you the chair beside him, and to be honest, you’d much rather sit somewhere else than face Jungkook, but there’s nothing you can do.
You don’t thank Namjoon this time when he pushes the chair for you to sit down, too embarrassed by your chewing. You shouldn’t have put two macarons in your mouth at once.
“Coffee?”
“Yes, please.”
Jungkook stays silent throughout it all, just watching you, especially watching Namjoon carefully, while you avoid eye contact. Jimin, on the other hand, can’t keep his eyes from flickering between you and Jungkook with a broad smile, as if he senses something’s wrong. He takes the last empty chair at the small table and sits between you and Jungkook.
“Black, so you’re not overdosed.” Namjoon places your coffee in front of you as his eyes also flick to Jungkook, and you’re not sure what’s happening right now.
“Hold up, hold up, I’ve got my favourite with me. Just for you, ___. You liked it the first time, right?” Jimin pulls out a cup of iced Americano from his bag, this time in a fitting container, but you can’t seem to understand why he’d bring you this when, despite you loving it, it hurts you just as much and he knows it. 
“You know,” Jimin continues with a glint in his eyes that not only makes you uneasy, but clearly Jungkook as well, the latter looking two seconds away from punching Jimin square in the face. “It’s called ‘Only Love’. Right, C? You created it.”
Ah, that makes a lot of sense now. What doesn’t make sense is you choking on the macaron. You should have put two and two together, to be honest, should have seen the connection the moment Jungkook appeared in front of you with everyone in this forsaken town being friends with him, but frankly, you didn’t.
You haven’t been thinking clearly for years, and you reckon it has something to do with Yoongi, who, even though he’s the only constant in your life now, is equal parts disturbing and unable to help you balance your emotions. Not that it’s his job, but being a bit less insufferable would be nice and a welcome change.
Jimin’s still holding the cup towards you, for longer than would feel just friendly, but now you see all the evil clearly. You don’t really know what to do, especially when you look at Jungkook and see him more pissed than you’ve ever seen before. Should you even take it?
“I… I think I’ll stick to black. Not that I really overdose on sugar or anything.” You stammer, wanting the earth to swallow you up rather than this shit morning continuing into a day full of hatred towards you.
Jungkook just scoffs at that, and you’re sure you hear him mutter “of fucking course, perfect timing” just as Yoongi enters the dining room.
“Morning,” Yoongi mumbles, and right as he’s about to sit at another table, Jimin places the Americano in front of you and gets up.
“No, please, sit down. I was just about to leave.”
Jungkook attempts to call Jimin out on his bullshit, but shuts his mouth in an instant when Yoongi claps Jimin on the back and sits down between you both. Turning to Namjoon, he’s still very much smirking as if he’s figured out the whole situation with you and Jungkook, especially when both his legs nudge yours and his, as if daring you both to say something.
“Bye!” Jimin sings as he’s out of the room before anyone can even breathe.
“You forgot your phone in our room.” Yoongi grumbles, stealing some macarons from you as if they were M&M’s, and preparing his plate. “A coffee please.”
“Black?” Namjoon’s grin spreads across his whole face as he gets up to fetch Yoongi’s order, because, dear lord, it wasn’t a kindly meant request.
“You got it.”
As if the morning hadn’t already strangled your emotions enough, your blood’s now boiling because Yoongi couldn’t just bring your stupid phone with him as if that would have been the greatest task in the world. But somehow, seeing Jungkook’s mood crash even more, you’re glad to have a moment to escape the scene, hoping that when you return, it won’t be with police tape around the place.
You don’t have the faintest idea what’s up with him. It’s not like he’s just mad at you—although you know he definitely is. Hell, you’d be mad at yourself if you were him. But something else must’ve happened, something that’s got him this wound up, not only at the sight of you and Yoongi, but his friends too.
It’s no surprise to find your phone where Yoongi said it would be, and seeing it now, face down, you’re beyond thankful he didn’t just hand it to you in front of everyone.
You just want to grab it quickly and shove it into the tight pocket of your leggings, thinking it’s lying on the info sheet from Namjoon, when Yoongi’s handwriting catches your attention. Black ink, neatly written down for all time:
‘Future’s gonna be okay.’
It soothes and breaks your heart all at once, especially when you spot a teeny tiny black heart too. Yoongi might argue it’s just a splatter from the pen, but you know better. Being close to your cousin is a rollercoaster in every imaginable way, but it’s worth it. Because he cares. Because he’ll understand, even if he doesn’t always show it the way you need.
Taking a very, very deep, steadying breath, you leave the note where it is, knowing you’ll definitely need it when you come back tonight, after what will surely be a wonderful day with Jungkook. You just hope you survive it.
Snowboarding doesn’t even scare you as much as Jungkook does. But you steel yourself not to panic, not to freak out about how clueless you are. Time will tell. Future’s gonna be okay.
And with that thought, you head back to the others, wanting something more substantial in your stomach than sugary sweets.
“Odd?”
“Yeah, odd,” Jungkook growls, and you stop short before entering the room again.
“I think I’m treating her just right for who she is to me,” Yoongi laughs, and you can hear the mischief in his voice, full of shit and in full wind-up mode.
There’s no way you’re really letting this turn into a crime scene, so you march into the room, eyes boring into the back of Yoongi’s head, knowing he’ll feel it.
Thankfully, no one says anything, but the looks speak volumes. Jungkook’s glaring daggers at you, Namjoon’s got that worried, torn look like a parent watching their toddler near the stairs, and Yoongi’s just…amused.
Frankly, your appetite’s vanished, and you don’t want to risk sitting down and getting dragged into whatever mess you’re missing today.
“When do we leave?” You ask Jungkook directly, using a tired, fed-up tone you haven’t dared yet.
It seems to do the trick, sobering everyone up as they take their last bites and gulps of coffee, getting ready to move.
Namjoon, ever the sweetheart, hands you the americano, and this time, you’re grateful for it. Screw the memories—you need caffeine to get through this day. A shot of something stronger in it might’ve been better, but alas.
“Thanks, Joon.”
That, of course, earns you a dirty look from Jungkook and an amused one from Yoongi.
“I’ll just grab my stuff real quick.”
“Yeah, we’re waiting in our slippers,” Yoongi says drily, overtaking Jungkook by the door, who looks at you like he can’t believe this is happening.
You ignore them both, turning to Namjoon to escape the drama, but only stumble into another one instead.
“So he’s your ex.”
You groan, shoulders slumping along with your coffee, exasperated as you realise Namjoon’s got you alone.
“Kinda obvious.”
“It is. Some other things are obvious too.”
You give him a long stare, the kind of stare you’ve perfected from hours of silent contests with Jungkook, but Namjoon, who’s obviously used to this too, isn’t fazed the slightest.
“Spill.”
“You’re both adults. Talk.”
Yeah, like it’s that simple. Sit down, have a rational, level-headed chat with Jungkook? Not likely.
“Thanks for breakfast. I’m out.”
You throw a peace sign over your shoulder, knowing you’re not getting anything more out of him, whether he’s right or wrong.
Being civil with Jungkook would be step one before you could even dream of a productive conversation. But based on how this breakfast is going, hell, the whole stay up until now, it’s clear that ‘civil’ is something you’ll never be when it comes to Jungkook. 
“Here.” Yoongi’s brought you your boots and gear, and the reason is instantly clear when Jungkook reappears, glaring at Yoongi like he’s about to snap.
“Could you both please be civil? I’d like to enjoy this holiday,” you snap, so utterly fed up, wishing you could put them both in time-out.
“Sorry,” Yoongi and Jungkook mumble in unison, but the looks they exchange right after make the apology feel pointless.
Even though you’re still struggling way more than you should with these snowboard boots—which surely came straight out of hell just to make your life that little bit more difficult—you still don’t let anyone help you. Not Jungkook, who stopped moving towards you after you shot him an evil glare, and not Yoongi, who suffered the same fate.
Eventually, you manage, somehow. And when you’re ready to go, the three of you grab your snowboards, which are leaning against the wall near the fireplace. It’s not easy to carry yours on your own, especially when the sharp edge cuts into your gloved palm and your other hand is occupied with your Americano. The bindings are digging into your forearm with their stupid weight distribution, but there’s no way you’re going to drag it any other way. Not when you’re not willing to sacrifice your caffeine—that’s just not happening in any lifetime of yours.
Yoongi, for once, is chivalrous enough to open the door for you, but you can’t really appreciate it like you would under normal circumstances. Your nerves are running thin—so thin you’re half-tempted to just smash the chime to dust with your snowboard to shut it up yourself. But you’re not strong enough, and with your luck, Jungkook—who’s walking right behind you—would probably end up on the receiving end of your terrible aim.
No one says a word during the entire walk to the hill, which, now that you think about it, feels worse than all the snide remarks. It’s not like fighting—or going straight for each other’s throats—is the best solution, but this simmering tension isn’t much better either. And you reckon it’s only a matter of time before someone goes off like a bloody nuclear bomb.
Though the real question is, who?
You’d love nothing more than to get inside Jungkook’s head, to take a peek at whatever thoughts are running through his pretty head and figure out why he’s been acting like this—irrational around others, but all sentimental when it’s just the two of you. It’s starting to seriously grate on your nerves.
Seeing that he wants to talk about everything that went down between you both is something you never thought would happen. But his approach? Not ideal. There’s no way you’re having a deep conversation with him before the day has even properly started, and definitely not in the middle of the street. And you’d much rather not have this conversation with others around too, thank you very much.
But the thing is, you’re still not sure if you want to be alone with him. What if your resolve to be all mature and talk like adults crumbles the second he looks at you with those sad eyes again? What if he’s just looking for answers so he can have the closure you know you’ll never get?
The thought feels selfish in every possible way. It disgusts you too, but you’re only human, not some robot who can function without feeling, without knowing what love or losing it is.
You let out a loud sigh, no longer able to bear the weight of the world—or the burning gaze of Jungkook boring into your back. 
“S’up?” Yoongi nudges you causing you to sway, the heavy drag of your boots not helping either. 
“Just enjoying the fresh air.” You bullshit, stepping right up the snow at the base of the beginners hill. 
“The only thing getting fresh air are my middle ears. Fucking feel the inflammation building.”
You’re sure Jungkook hadn’t intended to snort at Yoongi’s remark, but even he can’t seem to resist the humour in the nonsense that sometimes escapes Yoongi’s mouth.
“Some air gonna knock you out?” you tease, trying to nudge Yoongi back, though you fail miserably.
Thankfully, Jungkook’s quick enough to steady you with a free hand before you face-plant into the snow, which is far from the fluffy stuff it was yesterday—now hard as stone.
“You know you’re old when air’s hurting you, ___. You’ll understand when you’re my age.”
You hope that‘ll not be true. 
“Alright,” Jungkook claps once, and you and Yoongi fall into line in front of him after setting your boards and coffee aside. “Yesterday we covered most of the snowboarding theory. Three important things. What are they?”
Silence.
“Awareness, balance, control.”
It’s clear Jungkook’s waiting for something, and after a few agonising moments of just staring at each other, it clicks. He wants you to repeat what he said.
“Awareness,” you start, but Yoongi either hasn’t caught on or really doesn’t care, but you give him a nudge, and eventually, the two of you echo back Jungkook’s words.
“Awareness, balance, control.”
“Right, now, while we’re at it—let’s talk a bit more theory. After awareness, balance, and control, it’s all about anticipation. You can’t just react to things at the last minute, yeah? You’ve got to anticipate the changes. Know what’s coming. Whether it’s an obstacle in your path, a turn, or… someone doing something you didn’t expect.”
“For fuck’s sake, Jungkook! Man up and say it to my face if you’ve got something to say!”
“I didn’t say anything!”
“Fuck you did! And you—shut your fucking mouth!” You jab your gloved finger at Yoongi, who stops laughing immediately.
You’re not sure what’s gotten into Jungkook to act so irrational again, but whatever it is, you’ve had enough. Either he stays professional during the lesson, or you’re out. This kind of treatment—whatever you did to him or not—isn’t something you’ll tolerate. Not from him, not from anyone.
Jungkook seems to realise his mistake, or maybe he just doesn’t have the guts to confront you directly about what’s been bothering him. You reckon after all these years, he still hasn’t learned how to communicate properly. Then again, you’re not exactly great at that either.
“How about you stick to teaching during the course and stay in your lane? How about I can at least enjoy this for a few hours?”
Jungkook just nods, not the least approving, and if it weren’t for Yoongi placing a hand on your heaving shoulder and sucking his teeth, you might’ve lunged at Jungkook and strangled him right then and there.
“Right, well, before we get onto the boards, we need to warm up. Can’t have you both pulling muscles before you even touch the snow properly.”
“Please, no running,” Yoongi mutters under his breath.
“No, no running. First up, let’s stretch. Loosen up those muscles. Very important. Otherwise, you might… strain yourself. And trust me, some people,” he side-eyes you, “have a habit of rushing into things without getting properly prepared or listening to what the other person has to say.”
You grit your teeth. Oh, you’re so ready to kill him. If looks could kill, both you and Jungkook would be dead by now. “What the fuck is your problem?” you seethe dangerously low. 
“So, what are we doing first? Jumping jacks? Star jumps?” Yoongi asks sarcastically, more to defuse the situation than out of any real interest in actually participating in this course.
“No, mate. We’re not at boot camp. Just a simple warm-up to start. Arms, legs, get the blood flowing.” Jungkook begins rolling his shoulders and doing some arm circles. “Follow me. Arms out, nice and wide. Slow circles. Loosen up your shoulders. You need a good range of movement, especially when you’re… navigating tricky situations.”
You and Yoongi do your best to follow along, despite the thick jackets. Opting to be the bigger person here, you do your best to ignore Jungkook’s pointed glances and the occasional gust of cold air grazing your stomach whenever you raise your arms too high.
“Good. Now, bend forward, touch your toes—well, try to. Don’t force it. Some people are naturally more flexible than others, but hey, no rush.”
Throughout the whole stretching exercises, you keep your mouth shut, knowing that playing into his madness wouldn’t do either of you any good. You just can’t process it all at this point. And how could you?
Since the moment you stepped foot into this stupid little town, you haven’t had a minute to think. Especially not after Jungkook entered your life again. You’re jealous of all the people out there who can adapt to every moment, who aren’t as utterly pathetic at handling things as you are.
It must be genetics, because, dear lord, you’ve never been good at handling tricky situations, but the ones involving your ex are on another level. You can tell yourself to be cool and collected as much as you want, but at the end of the day, Jungkook will always trigger you.
And if it’s not with his passive-aggressive remarks, it’s with his broken sadness.
“Perfect. Let’s move on then. Before we get into the snowboards, I’ll just have to adjust your bindings real quick, and then we’ll start. For that, I’ll need to see which foot of yours is the dominant one.”
Jungkook walks silently behind you both, looking down at the snow with a slight frown on his lips while you follow his movements with your eyes.
“I’ll start with you, Yoongi. Relax your stance, I’ll push you from behind. Don’t think too much, just catch yourself, yeah?”
Jungkook’s now standing directly behind Yoongi, and as he raises his hand and places it on Yoongi’s back, right between his shoulder blades, your gut twists, fearing Jungkook might push him too hard, letting his anger out because he can’t restrain himself.
But to your relief, Jungkook pushes Yoongi ever so lightly, causing the older man to take a step forward, landing on his right foot.
“Right foot back, your stance is regular.” Jungkook just nods to himself, moving on to stand behind you now. “Your turn, ___. Again, just relax, don’t overthink it. I’ll push you now.”
How can you stay relaxed when Jungkook’s now directly behind you, when you not only feel the weight of his hand on your back but imagine you can feel the warmth of it too? It nearly leaves you gasping, not used to Jungkook touching you anymore.
“Relax,” Jungkook mutters ever so softly, causing your shoulders to drop as you take a deep breath, willing yourself to block him out as best you can.
The push is gentle, and while you take a step forward out of reflex, it’s the same reflex that misses his hand on your back.
“Left is your dominant foot, so goofy’s your stance.”
“Goofy?!”
It sounds offensive. Does it sound offensive? Because both Yoongi and Jungkook look at you, puzzled by your outburst.
Wasn’t that another jab?
“Yeah, it’s called goofy,” Jungkook says, Yoongi nodding as if to tell you to calm down.
“Oh. Okay.”
Jungkook pulls a tiny toolbox from the inner pocket of his jacket while you follow Yoongi, who’s picking up his board. He takes Yoongi’s snowboard first, placing it on his bent knee and unscrewing the first binding.
“Forefoot 18 degrees, back foot 7 degrees,” Yoongi mutters, not the least bit mocking. 
You’re not sure why Yoongi has a preference, but Jungkook doesn’t seem to question it, just nodding and adjusting Yoongi’s bindings to his liking.
When it’s your turn, Jungkook still doesn’t say anything as he takes the board from your hands, and while the adjustments look just the same as Yoongi’s to you, it’s clear both men see the difference as Yoongi interjects, “Fix the left one a bit more outwards, it’ll give her more control.”
Jungkook looks up at that, not angered, not ready to snap, as his eyes flit briefly to you before he eventually just nods and does as Yoongi suggested. Maybe not playing into Jungkook’s remarks earlier was the right course of action, seeing that even though it’s still awkward between you three, it’s more civil than it was before.
Jungkook stuffs his toolbox back into his pocket and turns to grab his own snowboard. As he straps his right foot into the binding, he calls out, “Fasten your front foot onto the board. We’re practising gliding.”
Yoongi does as instructed without a hitch, but you’re struggling a bit. The straps keep getting in the way, making it impossible to secure your foot properly.
Without a word, Jungkook hops over, dragging his board behind him, and quickly fastens the bindings for you.
“Thanks,” you mutter, but he doesn’t meet your eyes, just nods before heading back in front of you both.
“So, it’s simple. Push yourself forward with your free foot, step on the board, and glide for as long as you can. It’ll help you get a feel for the board. And remember—where you look is where you go. Look down, you’ll fall. Look forward, and you’ll be fine as long as your balance is decent.”
Jungkook demonstrates the glide with ease, while Yoongi follows suit right after, looking like he’s done this before, making it seem like a breeze. 
Alright, how hard can it be?
Turns out, pretty damn hard. As soon as you try, your arms flail like mad, desperately trying to regain balance. You stumble forward, managing to catch yourself at the last second, but not before the board lifts off the ground and slams right into your calf.
“Ouch!”
It hurts like hell, and you’re certain a bruise is already forming.
“Take it slow, no rush,” Jungkook says, not even glancing back.
You try a few more times, and while it feels like you’re going to lose a leg by the end of the day, you’re slowly getting the hang of it.
Yoongi’s already finished, standing beside Jungkook and watching you like some proud parent their child who’s learning to swim. You don’t mind though—better that than getting frustrated watching him nail everything effortlessly.
“That’s great, let’s move up the hill and practise side slipping. It’s like a lazy way to snowboard, but it’s useful.”
Dragging yourself up the hill feels like a workout in itself with your board still clasped onto your foot, your calf still throbbing from earlier.
“First things first,” Jungkook’s bending down to his board, “strap your other foot in as well. You want to be on your heel edge or your toe edge. We’ll start with heels, ‘cause if you start on your toes and mess up, you’ll just end up pissed off.”
Once again, Jungkook demonstrates the technique, and once again, Yoongi seems to pick it up straight away. Meanwhile, you’re down on your ass every other minute, frustration building but refusing to quit just yet. Jungkook lets you keep at it until you’ve finally got the hang of it, while Yoongi again just stands there with him, chatting the day away, apparently needing no extra practice.
“Why doesn’t he have to practise?” you yell down the hill.
“Because he doesn’t need to.”
You’re fuming, but deep down you know Jungkook’s right. Still, Yoongi’s supposed to be doing this with you, not just standing there like a supervisor. The anger helps though, because as you slide down the hill again, it’s smooth and controlled—and you feel damn proud of yourself.
“Alright, next exercise. We’re going to slide down on your toe edge now. Flip over so you’re facing up the hill, with your toes digging into the snow.”
You’re already panting from the climb back up the hill, but there’s no rest in sight. Jungkook leaves his board behind as you drag yourself up again, determined to finish this.
“Now,” Jungkook says, “bend your knees, lean forward slightly—like you’re bowing to a king. Lift your heels off the snow, so you’re balanced on your toes. And don’t panic if it feels weird at first. Yoongi, can you please demonstrate?”
“Sure,” Yoongi says, nailing the move effortlessly.
You can’t figure out why Yoongi’s suddenly Jungkook’s little helper, or why Jungkook’s board is still down the hill, but you focus on trying to imitate Yoongi’s technique. You get into position, dig your toes in, but the next second, you slip, barely catching yourself before faceplanting into the snow.
Jungkook’s by your side in seconds, pulling you up by the arms. “You alright?”
“Yeah,” you pant, swallowing the panic that’s rising in your chest. But your grip on his arms gives away just how terrified you are.
“Come on, I’ll help you.”
Jungkook’s hands slide down your arms until he’s holding your hands securely, but just as quickly, he lets go. You immediately lose your balance, nearly falling backwards as your whole life flashes before your eyes.
“Shit!” His hands grab you at the last second, keeping you from toppling over.
“Don’t just let go like that!”
“Why are your gloves this wet?”
You don’t have time to defend yourself against Jungkook’s scolding as he abruptly forces his leg between yours, angling his heel between the snow and your board to keep you in place and balance. 
The proximity to Jungkook has an instant effect on you. Your brain shuts down, and though your blood is rushing through your veins at an overwhelming speed, it somehow calms you down just the same.
Being this close to him, not only seeing him but feeling all of his body pressed against yours, mixed with his intoxicating scent, makes you never want to let go of him again.
“Hold onto me,” he murmurs softly, the closeness making it unnecessary to speak any louder than a breath.
You can’t help yourself, staring at his face, even though he’s avoiding eye contact as he removes your gloves, letting them fall silently behind him. You reckon he hasn’t changed much—just a few piercings and some faint lines caused by age now marking his otherwise mesmerising face. But still, he’s the same.
The same lashes framing his big eyes, the same kissable lips now a bit cracked from the cold, the same glowing skin with that faint scar on his cheek.
It throws you back in time but also makes you ache for all the time spent apart. It’s impossible to feel resentment for the harsh things he’s said, impossible to feel anything but the deep love you still have for him. It’s impossible to look away, even though he isn’t meeting your gaze, busy tugging off his gloves with his teeth.
When his hand reaches for yours, wrapping them in the warmth of his own gloves, you feel like you might break right then and there. You’ve been a fool for pushing him away, for ending things in the first place, when he’s always been this good to you—even now, after all these years.
When Jungkook finally finishes and his eyes meet yours for the first time, you don’t dare breathe, even if you physically could. It’s like the heartbreak never happened, healed by the closeness of two hearts that know they can only beat as one.
You see it in his eyes, like you always could back then, that he feels it too—or at least something close to what you feel.
“I never meant to hurt you,” you manage to say, your voice breaking ever so faintly, with a slight sheen of tears coating your eyes.
“I know,” Jungkook smiles ever so softly, as if he’s always known, as if he understands. But still, he steps back, leaving you cold and longing again, only holding your hands just firmly enough to help you keep your balance. “Try again, toes in the snow, knees bent.”
You swallow the hurt down, knowing you’ve got no right to feel this way, and with Jungkook’s help, you slide down the hill. You succeed, but as soon as you reach the base, Jungkook steps back completely, walking over to Yoongi while instructing, “Try again now on your own.”
And you do. Multiple times until you master it as best you can, all while you know you’re being watched by the two most important men in your life.
Lunch is spent in a tiny fast-food restaurant nearby, just because you’re so hungry you can’t wait ages for a proper meal. Jungkook excuses himself to take a phone call, and you notice a picture of Hara on his screen, though you weren’t fast enough to see whose name was at the top, or if it’s his lock screen or Hara’s contact picture.
“Why are you so good at snowboarding?” you try to sound angry, though your mouth is stuffed, hoping Yoongi can still make sense of the words.
“I’ve been snowboarding before.”
“You what?” You swallow the bite forcefully, needing space to articulate the insults he deserves. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why am I paying for a crash course for you?”
“I didn’t thi—”
“Why the fuck have I paid for and rented your gear?!”
Yoongi goes silent, eating his meal like he’s bored, giving you time to yell at him some more before he speaks. But you don’t, just widen your eyes and shake your head to emphasise how livid you are.
“I didn’t think you’d want to come alone.”
“That’s such a shit excuse, Yoongs. You should have at least paid for yourself. Fucking parasite.”
“Yo, show some respect. You said you’d pay for everything. It’s not like I forced you.”
“Forced me?! You wouldn’t have come otherwise!”
“I can still hang in our suite and leave you alone with Mr. Leaf-in-the-wind.”
“That’s rude.”
“It’s true, and you know it.”
He’s kinda right. But you can see where Jungkook’s coming from, somehow understand why he’s acting the way he does.
You sigh at that, leaning back with another mouthful of food, knowing you should really work on your manners. “You’re not leaving me alone with him. No way.”
“If you say so.”
You startle slightly when Jungkook slides into the seat beside you, hoping he didn’t catch any of what was said while he was gone. And even though you’re dying to know who was calling, you’d rather strip bare in the middle of the restaurant than ask, not wanting to look like some jealous, controlling ex-girlfriend.
“Hara called,” you fucking knew it. “Said Namjoon’s arranged dinner at Jin’s.”
You and Yoongi just hum, though you reckon you’re the only one finding it rude. But who can blame you? You are jealous, you are a fucking control freak, and Jungkook looking the way he does definitely doesn’t help.
You hadn’t noticed before, thanks to his oversized clothes, just how buff he’s become. But seeing him now, his upper body hugged by thermal gear so tight it might as well be see-through, makes you even pettier than you already were at the mention of Hara. And how could you not be?
Clearly, he’s been working out more since you split. Maybe you were holding him back from getting in shape too. It’s funny—you always thought Jungkook peaked while he was with you, but that couldn’t be further from the truth.
You force the rest of your meal down in silence, occasionally glancing up at Jungkook and Yoongi, who are doing the same. It’s not like you want this silence to linger, but you don’t know what to say, and neither do they.
It’s slightly bothering you that both men were comfortable enough to chat the whole morning away while you were busy trying not to face-plant into the snow, and now can’t seem to say a single word with you around. Maybe you were the problem all along. 
Ugh, you hate having those thoughts again, especially since you’ve made such progress with your self-esteem recently, and now it’s crashing back down, spiralling like something you can’t escape.
When everyone’s finally finished, you pack up your things and step back outside into the cold, hoping the rest of the day goes by as civilly as the last few hours have been. 
Hours later, you’re spent. So utterly spent you’re sure you won’t make it to Jin’s without falling asleep midway through. Like Snow White, you want to lie down and sleep, and for no one to kiss you awake. Though, if you think about it, Jungkook would make a formidable prince.
Stop. You can’t think like this, you won’t allow such homewrecker thoughts. Not when things went well after lunch and there’s hope you can talk shit out.
After finally managing to learn how to take turns on that snowboard straight out of hell, and now being able to proudly say you can get down the beginners’ hill without breaking a single bone, you feel more accomplished than you ever have. Still, you hate snowboarding, and still won’t be doing it again once the two weeks are up.
“Why aren’t we eating at the hostel?”
You didn’t mean to say it out loud, not with Namjoon walking right beside you, and it might come off as though you’re calling him out for saying he’d be your chef during the trip, but hasn’t cooked a single thing for you yet. Namjoon’s blush only deepens your regret, though he takes it in stride.
“Well…uhm…I just thought that—”
“He can’t cook to save his life.” Jungkook interrupts Namjoon’s clear attempt to save face, and you’d never expected to see such a smug look on Jungkook’s face while throwing his friend under the bus.
“Oh, that’s cute. Plenty of women like to cook for their man.” You nudge Namjoon, hoping it’ll ease the tension just a little.
“Ah, I don’t know about that.”
“Did you watch the game?” Jungkook asks, louder than necessary, slowing his pace so he falls in beside Namjoon, forcing you to step aside to avoid colliding with his stupid back. 
The glare he sends your way matches your own, and you’re sure you can read in his eyes that he wants you to back off from his friend. You barely register what Namjoon and Yoongi are talking about, something vivid about an epic basketball game, too caught up in a silent conversation with Jungkook about what his problem is—and yours. But it’s like you’re out of sync, all questions missed, and answers elusive throughout the whole short walk to Jin’s. 
You hadn’t expected Jin’s to be such a lavish restaurant. Despite having the same rustic feel as the rest of the town, there’s a touch of poshness that makes it more enchanting than any other place you’ve been.
Jungkook wastes no time after stepping inside behind you, passing you to get to the bar where Hara and Hope are perched. Sadly, or maybe thankfully, you don’t see how he greets them, as a man steps into your view, broad shoulders blocking everything else.
“Welcome! I’m Jin! You must be ___.”
Jin practically squeezes you to death with his hug, your sore muscles protesting at how tight he holds you. You can’t hold back your laugh, not only because his greeting is the warmest you’ve ever received, but because you know the moment he lets go of you, he’ll do the same to Yoongi.
“Thanks for having us, Jin,” you squeak, tapping his back in hopes it’ll make him release you.
“Oh please, I’m so thrilled to finally meet you both.” Jin beams down at you before turning to throw himself at Yoongi, just as you predicted. “Yoongi, hi!”
“Please let go of me.” But Jin doesn’t listen, and you think he squeezes your grumpy cousin even tighter than before until he finally lets him go too.
“I’ve prepared a whole course for you three. I know Jungkook can be a bit demanding with his food, so I’ll make sure you’re well fed.”
Jin guides you to a table near the bar, and like the little control freak you are, you opt for the chair that gives you a view of the whole restaurant, including the bar. You don’t have a great view of Jungkook and Hara, though, as Namjoon is standing perfectly in front of them, but you think you see Hara leaning against Jungkook.
It leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, twisting the knife of jealousy oh-so-slowly in your gut. You’re not sure how Jungkook could have found someone new so quickly, especially after telling you over and over again that you were the love of his life. Maybe it was just heartbreak that drove him to find solace in someone else. Maybe it’s just a hungry heart wanting to be fed with a fraction of love.
But you don’t want to assume that Hara’s love for him can’t compete with yours. Even though a part of you is certain that what you felt—and still feel—for him is beyond anything humanly possible. And even if her love for him is pure, yours will always outshine hers. Or maybe that’s just the green-eyed monster talking, infecting your thoughts.
But so be it. There’s nothing left to lose after you lost Jungkook, after you lost yourself, not just during your relationship with him, but in so much more.
Jin takes your drink order, and while at first you thought a Diet Coke would be nice after today, you opt for a whole bottle of wine. Not to share. Oh no, it’s entirely for yourself, because if you’re going to spend the evening witnessing Jungkook with his new flame, you’re definitely not doing it sober.
“You look jealous.”
“You don’t say.”
“Talk to him.”
“About what, Yoongs?” you snap as quietly as possible, fingers digging into the tablecloth to stop yourself from losing it. “How he’s fucking that model? Or how easy it was for him to move on?”
“That would be a start.”
“You’re ridiculous. Now shut up, they’re coming over.”
It’s not like you want to stare, but seeing Jungkook so at ease with Hara makes your stomach turn. And why Yoongi had to sit opposite you, leaving no other option but for Hara and Jungkook to sit on either side of you, is something you’ll never forgive him for.
“Hey!” Hara greets you both so warmly that you regret bashing her in your thoughts. Even if she’s Jungkook’s girlfriend, she’s always been nice to you.
“Hey, how have you been?”
Jin takes this moment to bring over a tray full of drinks. Yoongi has a beer, Hara a glass of water like Jungkook—yuck—and he sets the whole bottle of wine with a fitting glass in front of you. You should feel embarrassed, but you really don’t.
“You want some too?” you ask Hara out of politeness, knowing Jungkook never drinks during the week, as you pour yourself a generous first glass of your survival drink, wanting nothing more than to down it all before dinner starts.
“Oh no, thank you! I’m pregnant.”
The bottle’s still in your hand, but the glass is already at your lips with a hearty sip in your mouth, which you promptly snort back into the glass. You’re not sure if the tears springing to your eyes are just from the wine burning your sinuses and uncontrollably coughs or from your heart crumbling into dust at this revelation.
Jungkook—bless the tiny space you still occupy in his heart—is at your side in seconds, helping you recover from the near-death experience, but his touch feels scolding now.
Scolding in a way that makes you think back to all the times he said he wanted to be a dad, to all the times he fucked you raw and let his kink give you the best orgasms of your life. And eventually, you have to force yourself not to picture it—how he found all of that with Hara.
“Congratulations!” you manage to force out after everyone’s back in their seats and a bit of quiet has settled.
“Thank you! We’re all so happy, right?” Hara caresses her stomach, beaming at Jungkook, who looks just as thrilled as she does.
“Yeah! It’s going to have a wonderful mother.”
“Duh.” She laughs, sipping her water while you drown your glass, smiling and nodding as if you couldn’t agree more.
You don’t recall much of the conversations during dinner, don’t remember the sweet lies you told to hide how broken you are. But when Jungkook and Hara disappear into the kitchen after the meal, you grab Yoongi from his chair and drag him towards the door.
“Bye! Thanks for dinner!” you call to Namjoon and Hope, who look confused, but you’re too tipsy to care. Too tipsy to make out what Jin says to you as he rushes out of the kitchen, while you stumble outside.
“What was that?” Yoongi pulls his arm out of your grasp, hating it when you’re like this.
But you can’t hold it together anymore, alcohol always making you sad, emotional, and sentimental. Maybe it was the last straw—time to let Jungkook go, though him being so wound up this morning still nags at your mind.
“I’ve changed my mind.” You start walking towards the hostel, hearing Yoongi following, the snow crunching under your feet. “You’re free to do whatever you want.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
Yes, you are. You need to end this limbo once and for all.
“I need answers, and I won’t get any if I’m not alone with Jungkook.”
Day 3
Maybe opting to spend the day alone with Jungkook wasn’t the best idea you’ve had. Not that it isn’t necessary to finally get the answers that have been piling up, but you’re not sure how to ask him without it turning into an interrogation.
Facing Jungkook first thing this morning would’ve been too much too, especially since you’ve barely had time to process the pregnancy bomb Hara dropped on you. So, sneaking out of the hostel it is.
You regret not stopping by Hope’s to grab your winter boots, but with no other option, you head out in full snowboarding gear, aiming to grab breakfast at Jimin’s.
What you didn’t expect was to spot Hara in the pastry shop as you stand outside, staring longingly at the treats like a starving kid. You can’t face her right now, so you quickly turn and decide to head anywhere else but here or the hostel, hoping there’s another bakery somewhere in town.
But of course, in your bulky snowboarding gear, you’re not exactly inconspicuous, looking more like an oversized ball of dark fabric against the snow. Naturally, Jimin spots you straight away, waving you in like you originally planned.
And of course, Hara notices too, her soft eyes and glowing smile radiating warmth as she waves at you.
Forcing a smile, you head to the entrance and with one deep breath, step into the lion’s den, thinking breakfast spent with Jungkook would have been the better option. 
“Morning, ___!”
“Hey Hara. Jimin.”
You’re still a bit pissed at Jimin for being a little shit yesterday, stirring the pot between you and Jungkook for no reason. But seeing him now, friendly and without the evil glint in his eyes, tempers your anger just a bit.
“The usual?”
“I didn’t know I had one,” you laugh, now standing beside Hara, who’s practically pressed up against the glass display of sweets. It’s kind of cute, and you reckon the pregnancy hormones are hitting her hard, especially this early in the morning.
“I’d die for a coffee,” she mumbles, fogging up the glass and quickly wiping it clear again to not spoil her view.
Jimin’s back is to both of you, already busy with the coffee machine. “I could make you a decaf.”
“No, I read somewhere that decaf isn’t really decaf. And while nursing, caffeine stays in the baby’s system for up to three days. I don’t even want to think about how long it stays in their system when they’re still in the womb.”
“Oh, that’s wild. I didn’t know that.” You’re genuinely shocked by the news, and a little concerned for any women who don’t know either.
“Yeah.” Hara sighs, fogging the glass up again and immediately wiping it clean.
Why Jimin’s not serving Hara first and is making your coffee instead is beyond you, but you don’t say anything. Maybe she can’t decide what to eat just yet, or there’s something she’s avoiding. Either way, you don’t want to end up as the town’s biggest grouch.
“Aren’t you warm?” Hara asks, glancing at you, though her gaze keeps drifting back to the sweets.
“Yeah.” You stammer a little, awkwardly taking off your coat, walking back to the door to hang it up on the rack, which has been bodged together again. You realise quickly that Namjoon or Jimin clearly aren’t cut out for DIY which is definitely a pass.
“Something to eat?”
“Yes,” you and Hara answer in unison, though hers is more of a relieved sigh, making you giggle as you make your way to the table you sat at some days ago.
“What’ll it be then?”
“How about a bit of everything as an apology?” you tease, unable to let his mischief slide like you probably should.
“Touche.”
“What did he do again?” Hara’s now sitting beside you, both of you watching Jimin as he diligently piles treats onto a massive plate. A brief flicker of guilt runs through you as you think about the way you’ve been eating lately, except for that one perfect meal at Jin’s. But you’re only here for a few days, so you might as well make the most of it. There’s no way you’re saying no to all this food, especially when Jimin owes you more than that.
“I didn’t do anything.”
“Mhm, sure,” you smirk, crossing your arms as you exchange glances with Hara, who’s clearly curious and ready for some gossip, even if it’s at your expense.
She looks stunning in the soft morning light filtering through the window, her thick black hair falling in loose waves like she’s fresh from a blowout. Maybe it’s just good genes, because her skin is flawless—no makeup, no blemishes, no dark circles.
Maybe, in another life, she could’ve been a friend. But there’s no way you could ever be close to someone who’s got the man you love.
“Oh, come on, it wasn’t that bad.”
“What did he do?” Hara’s leaning forward now, elbows on the table, hands framing her perfect face as she eagerly looks between you and Jimin, clearly hooked on your tea. 
“He’s been a little shit, stirring trouble.”
“I just brought you your favourite,” Jimin grins innocently, making his way to the table. But you can clearly see the mischievous glint in his eyes again, and before you know it, he’s setting down the dreaded americano in front of you. Hara’s already grabbed a macaron, barely waiting for the plate to touch the table.
“What’s so bad—” Hara starts,  talking through a mouthful of food in a way only you could relate to, but Jimin cuts her off. 
“She’s his ex.”
Hara’s reaction is immediate—she starts choking on her pastry, and you flash back to last night when you nearly drowned yourself with wine. You’re unsure what to do, hesitating with your hands hovering over her, worried about whether patting a pregnant woman on the back is safe as your panic rises. Luckily, Jimin sprints behind the counter, grabs a bottle of water, and leaps back over to hand it to her.
Thankfully, Hara recovers quickly, and your heart slows down as you see she’s alright.
“Why didn’t anyone tell me?!”
That’s…not the reaction you were expecting.
“If you’d just checked the group chat, you’d know.”
“Wait, you have a group chat where you talk about me?!”
“Not important.” Hara waves you off with a hand, though the growing smile on her face makes the gesture anything but rude. She pulls out her phone and starts scrolling through missed messages, clearly catching up on something you’re not privy to.
You try to sneak a glance at her screen, but she leans away, blocking your view. Instead, you watch her face as she scrolls—at first, there are little giggles, but soon her expression sours into a full-on pout.
What the hell are they texting about you? Isn’t that illegal or something?
“Why?” she whines, looking at Jimin while your confusion just deepens.
“Dunno. Ask Namjoon.” 
“Namjoon?” The name slips out before you can stop yourself. It doesn’t make any sense for him to be involved in this.
Hara lets out an exasperated sigh, sinking into her seat like she already knows the answer Namjoon would give but is too drained to accept it. “Ugh, no way.”
You clear your throat, hoping to redirect the conversation, though the frustration is building. “Namjoon?”
“Yeah, Namjoon. Now eat before it gets cold.”
“Your pastries are cold,” you shoot back, but Jimin just waves it off.
“See? Now eat.” And with that, he disappears through the door leading to the back, leaving you stewing. You hate him for this—stirring up chaos and then vanishing as if he didn’t cause it in the first place. 
Hara, meanwhile, seems lost in her thoughts, again eating, one hand’s wrapped around a croissant, the other clutches a muffin. How she manages to look like she’s stepped straight out of a commercial is beyond you, and somehow it fits that Jungkook would be with someone like her.
You hesitate, not daring to nudge her. You’ve never spent much time around pregnant women—how fragile are they, really? Better safe than sorry.
“Namjoon?” you ask again, more gently this time.
Her eyes flick up to yours, as if she momentarily forgot where she was. There’s no defensiveness in her gaze, only a soft apology. She places the muffin down and reaches out to touch your arm after wiping it clean on her sweater, her hand gentle and comforting like a mother consoling a child. She’s really going to make a great mum.
“I’m sorry, love. I can’t tell you.”
Surprisingly, it doesn’t make you angry. You should be furious, with how cryptic everyone’s being, and especially with how inconsistent Jungkook’s been treating you lately. But you can see the sincerity in Hara’s face. She really is sorry, and somehow, that makes it harder to be mad. She’s just…lovable in all the ways you’re sure you never could be.
So you just nod, defeated, and finally start eating your breakfast as well. Thinking about all the conversations you could have with Hara right now makes deciding which one you’d actually want to have not that easy. 
Asking about her pregnancy could be a start, maybe how far along she is since she’s not showing yet. It would be a question asked just for the sake of it, to get to know her a bit better. Because quite frankly, even if you checked Jungkook’s or her social media to confirm if he was in town and might be the father of Hara’s child, it wouldn’t really help. The evidence wouldn’t be enough, seeing as he’d apparently be in Hawaii now if you took socials as proof.
Asking her how her relationship with Jungkook is? Not an option. Why would you willingly want to hear anything about their intimacy? Definite no.
Her childhood? Pass.
Her job? Don’t care.
Whether she has pets? Hmm, that would be nice to know. You love animals, regardless of their owner, so that’s where you settle.
This time though, you swallow the bite of food before speaking to Hara, who’s managed to eat half of the huge plate sitting before you both while you were lost in thought. Just as you part your lips, inhaling enough air to ask your first personal question, she freezes mid-bite with a half-eaten cinnamon roll in hand, her eyes wide.
“Oh no…” she breathes, mortified, cradling her stomach as she drops the roll and bolts towards the nearby toilet, gagging.
To your dismay, she doesn’t close the door behind her, and you can hear her throwing up everything she’s eaten so far, which sets off your own stomach. You start gagging too, barely able to stand, hating this reaction you’ve had since childhood whenever someone’s vomiting or even gagging near you.
You need to leave. Now. So you call out a quick “sorry” and “bye” with your hand over your mouth, grab your coat while passing the sad excuse of a fixed coat rack and rush outside. You’re not even fazed by the freezing cold, just relieved to be as far away from the sound of vomiting as possible.
Seeing no other option than to go back to the hostel and get your snowboard, you try to calm yourself as much as you can. It’s finally time to face Jungkook alone, how you’ll manage, you don’t know—but you’ll figure it out as you go.
When you enter the hostel, Jungkook’s already standing in full gear in the main area, turning his head from the hallway leading to the rooms when the chime signals your arrival. He looks confused for a moment, but as you approach your snowboard, you try not to let his presence faze you.
Though you fail miserably when your voice embarrassingly cracks. “Good morning.”
Jungkook still has the same effect on you. Anytime your eyes catch even a glimpse of him, whether in person or just a pixelated picture on the internet, he takes your breath away and makes you flustered all over again. It’s not like it’s something new—he’s had that effect on you ever since the first time you saw him, when he was tapping on your car window, asking if you needed help as you were clearly having a breakdown because you couldn’t, for the life of you, park in the narrow side street.
“Morning. Where’s your other half?” Jungkook’s voice turns slightly bitter, but as you look at him, you can tell he’s more irritated with himself than anything.
“He’s not coming.”
Jungkook raises an eyebrow in question, walking towards the door to leave for the hill.
“He doesn’t need it. It’s just us. Or should we cancel the lesson altogether?” You grin at him as you walk beside each other, playful but secretly hoping for a way out that won’t involve you breaking a bone today.
“No, ‘s fine.” You think you catch a small smile tugging at Jungkook’s lips, but he quickly pulls his scarf up over his mouth, hiding it.
“Did you sleep well?”
You mull over his question, wondering if whining about being awake most of the night because of Yoongi’s snoring, which could probably warrant a sleep clinic appointment, and your own relentless overthinking about Hara’s pregnancy and Jungkook’s involvement, warranting an appointment with a psychologist, would be a good idea. But you decide against it. Not just because you don’t want to confront him yet, but because voicing a lie to explain why a whole bottle of wine didn’t lull you to sleep doesn’t cross your mind quickly enough.
“Perfectly. And you?”
“Yeah, though the beds are a bit too soft. You like them though, right?”
Nostalgia hits you like a snow storm—the fact that Jungkook still remembers such trivial details about you.
“Yeah, I even brought my snuggly,” you giggle, knowing he’ll definitely remember that as well. 
What you didn’t consider is that the exact pillow you’ve been cradling every night since you got it was a gift from Jungkook himself. When his eyes snap to you, wide with recognition, searching your face to make sure he heard you right, you realise you’ve said too much.
He doesn’t ask any follow-up questions. In fact, he doesn’t say anything, and you’re too caught up in your head to even attempt small talk. How could you, with Jungkook? The two of you have never been like this, never awkward. You were always at ease, immediately friends, then more, and eventually…nothing at all.
It’s only when you reach the dreaded hill, with Jungkook stepping in front of you like the instructor he is—and how you should be seeing him right now—, that you try to bottle up everything, telling yourself you’ll bring it up later, maybe over lunch. It’s already late morning, so it won’t be too long until you get the answers you’re desperate for.
“So, today we’ll be snowboarding for real,” he starts, but it’s so much softer than when Yoongi was with you. There’s a gentleness in his tone now, something quieter, like he’s trying to ease you into it rather than push. “But before we lift up and go down the slopes, I want you to get a feel for gliding with a bit of speed.”
Yeah, no. He’s not easing, he’s definitely pushing you. You don’t like where this is going.
“First with a rope, then we’ll use the hill a few times, and hopefully before lunch we’ll make our first descent down the blue slope.”
“Blue?”
“It’s the easiest one. I’ll explain it in detail once we’re up there.” He points with his thumb over his shoulder.
Following the direction, you notice multiple skiers and snowboarders already dashing down the slopes. You’re pretty sure you hear someone scream right before they fall, snow exploding around them like flour hitting the ground. You gulp dryly, but you nod all the same.
When Jungkook pulls a cut-off lift cord from his jacket, you’re equal parts terrified and impressed by how much he carries around without you noticing.
“Clip yourself in, please,” he instructs as he unwraps the cord, walking towards you with both ends in hand.
Of course, you do as he says, but you can’t help glancing warily at the cord, still unsure of exactly what he’s got planned.
Shifting awkwardly on your snowboard, trying not to fall while Jungkook messes with the lift cord, you try to ignore the racing of your heart as Jungkook’s gloved hands tug gently around your body to secure it. But all your attempts to focus on anything other than how natural it feels for him to be helping you again, are futile at their best. 
„You ready?“ He’s got this grin on his face, one you recognise too well—the kind that usually means he’s about to do something reckless or ridiculous. It’s the same grin he had that time he convinced you to build a fort out of every cushion in his apartment, just because and why not.
“Not even a little bit,” you admit, but still, you’ve never been able to say no to that grin. Snowboarding is definitely not something you ever thought you’d be doing, yet, here you are, letting your ex teach you. It’s awkward as it sounds, except…it’s not.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got you. I’m gonna start pulling now. Just relax, yeah?” he grins, his voice carrying that casual, teasing tone that makes your heart ache just a little bit too much. Swallowing hard, you adjust your stance, trying to keep your balance as he gets into position.
“Relax? You’re literally going to run while pulling me. How am I supposed to relax?” you shoot back, giving him a look. Your knees feel wobbly just thinking about it, and you’re not even moving yet.
He chuckles, his eyes crinkling ever so lovingly at the edges. “Trust me, you’ll be fine. Just focus on staying straight and let me do the hard part.”
You shake your head, but deep down, you do trust him. You always have, even when you probably shouldn’t. Like that time he tried to teach you how to ride a bike after you told him you hadn’t been on one since you were a kid. He’d run alongside you, holding the seat, laughing the whole time while you screamed about how you were going to crash. And yeah, you did crash. But he was right there to catch you before you hit the ground.
“Okay, here we go!” Jungkook calls out suddenly, interrupting your thoughts. He grabs the lift cord a bit tighter, gives it a little tug, and then he’s off—actually sprinting through the snow, pulling you behind him like some kind of sled dog.
The board jerks beneath you as you’re dragged forward, and for a split second, you think you’re about to eat snow. But you don’t. Somehow, you manage to keep your balance, your legs flexing to stay upright as you glide over the snow. You can’t help it—you let out a yelp of surprise, half-laughing, half-shrieking, as Jungkook keeps running ahead of you, turning to look over his shoulder with a huge grin on his face, sparkling eyes, and a nose red from the cold.
“See? You’re doing it!” he shouts, his voice breathless but excited, clearly proud of you just for managing not to fall.
“Don’t distract me!” you yell back, laughing now despite yourself. The rush of the cold air against your face and the ridiculousness of the situation sends a burst of adrenaline through you, and for a moment, you actually feel like you’re snowboarding. Well, sort of. „I’m going to crash!“
„Nah, I’d never let you crash!“
You look up at that and he still looks annoyingly good, like he’s stepped out of a high-end winter sports ad. You wonder if he’s thinking about the past too—about the warmth you’d felt on those lazy Sunday mornings when you’d wake up next to him, the two of you tangled in blankets, sharing groggy laughter and sleepy conversation before starting the day.
Why did it have to end? That thought keeps creeping up, even though you tell yourself not to think about it. You weren’t right for each other, or maybe you were, but just not at the right time maybe. But there are still these little moments that get you. Moments like now, when he’s right in front of you, close enough but still far away.
Jungkook slows down a little, but his grip on the cord stays secure, guiding you as you slide behind him. It’s strangely easy, being pulled along like this. You’re not focused on your feet or the board or the fear of falling—you’re just…moving because of Jungkook. Making you remember all those rare times you’d dance around the kitchen with him guiding you in his sturdy arms, not caring if you looked ridiculous or if you were stepping on each other’s socked feet. Back when everything was uncomplicated, and just being with him made you happy.
“You’re not even trying to steer!” Jungkook calls out, teasing, his breath visible in the cold air. He looks over his shoulder again, his hair bouncing slightly as he jogs, and there’s something playful and secure in his eyes—something that makes you remember why you fell for him in the first place.
“I’m trying! Let me life!” you protest, though your voice is shaky from laughing too hard. It’s ridiculous, this whole thing, but you’re actually having fun.
“Alright, I’m gonna let go now,” Jungkook warns, slowing down even more. “Get ready to stop.”
You brace yourself, bending your knees just a bit more, trying to remember everything he told you over the last two days about controlling the board. But before you can do much more than panic slightly, he releases the cord, and you glide forward, the board still carrying you for a few more feet before coming to a slow, wobbly stop right in front of him, your snowboard between his legs.
You stand there for a moment, catching your breath, and when you turn your head up to look from Jungkook’s chest to his face, there’s nothing less than a satisfied smile on his lips.
“See? Told you it’d be fun,” he smiles, like this whole thing was a walk in the park for you. Honestly, it probably would be for him. He’s always been annoyingly good at making things look easy.
“Fun? I almost fell like ten times!” you exaggerate, but you’re still smiling. You can’t help it. It’s hard not to smile when you’re around him, even now, years later. 
Slightly out of breath, he gives you that boyish grin that makes you swoon even more. “But you didn’t. And you were laughing, which means you were having fun.”
You want to argue with him, to say that just because you were laughing doesn’t mean you weren’t terrified, but the truth is, you did have fun. More fun than you’ve had in a while, actually.
“Okay, fine. Maybe it wasn’t that bad,” you admit, brushing some snow off your gloves. “But I still don’t know what I’m doing.”
“That’s the point. You don’t have to know what you’re doing. You just have to let yourself try.”
You stare at him for a second, trying to decide if he’s talking about snowboarding or —again—something else entirely. It’s funny how easily he slips back into your life like this when you’re alone and forget about the world, making you laugh, making you feel like things aren’t as complicated as they really are. It reminds you of all those little moments you had together—when you’d stay up late, talking about nothing in particular, just enjoying the sound of each other’s voice or binge-watching shows that neither of you were really that into but refused to stop watching because you both needed to see how ridiculous the plot would get. Or, even, those lazy afternoons spent cooking together, fumbling through recipes neither of you knew how to make, laughing at each other when you messed up.
Those days were safe, easy. And even though it’s over, you miss that ease sometimes—the way he’d make you laugh without trying, the way he’d look at you during the quiet moments when he didn’t think you were paying attention.
Jungkook steps back and bends down to pick up the cord again, glancing up at you with that familiar mischievous glint in his eyes. “Wanna go again?”
You sigh dramatically, though you’re already nodding. “I guess I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”
He laughs, and the sound of it is oh so wonderfully warm. “Nope. You’re stuck with me.”
As he starts pulling the cord again, you feel that rush of excitement building in your chest, the same way it used to whenever he’d suggest something spontaneous or ridiculously dangerous. It’s easy to forget everything else when you’re with him—how things ended, how you’re supposed to be moving on. But for now, in this exact moment, with him pulling you along like old times, you let yourself enjoy it. 
Because quite frankly, as soon as you have the talk with him, you’re sure there won’t be any of these shared moments anymore. Ignoring the ticking countdown inside your head is everything you’re willing to do for now, you’re not quite ready to let go of the ease that obviously can still exist between you, fragile as it may be. 
Some time later, after you’ve been gliding—no, really snowboarding—down the hill a few times, you’re sitting on top of it with Jungkook beside you. Both of you are clipping yourselves in, facing the lift where you’re about to head up for your first proper descent.
“People are already off to lunch, so the lift’s going to be pretty empty. Try to stop right behind me, I’ve got the ticket for you.”
“Okay.” you hesitate, but maybe it’s the perfect time to clear some of your questions. “Uh, before we start, could you tell me what you’ve all been saying about me in the group chat?”
“What?”
“Yeah, like, what you’ve been talking about me. About us.”
Jungkook looks completely confused, muttering, “We don’t talk about you there,” but he pulls his phone from his pocket regardless, unlocking it and heading straight to the group chat. “What the fuck?!”
“What is it?”
You try to peer at his phone, but the sun’s too bright for you to make anything out.
“They’ve removed me from the chat.”
Frowning at his phone, Jungkook quickly types out a flurry of messages to all his friends, each one filled with the same curse words and passive-aggressive tone. But when you see him typing to Hara, it’s just a politely phrased question, before he puts his phone away and turns to you with apologetic eyes.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s going on with—”
“Jungkook!”
You turn towards the chirpy voice calling out, spotting two snowboarders decked out in pink, gliding effortlessly towards you. Their gear isn’t baggy, snugly fitting and showing off their slender physiques.
“Who’s that?” you mutter to yourself, still transfixed by how effortlessly they come to a stop in front of you. You think you hear Jungkook mumble something like no clue.
Both girls remove their scarves and protective goggles, revealing not only perfect features but also flawless makeup—more suited for a night out than a day on the slopes.
“Hey,” Jungkook greets them, confusion evident in his tone.
“It’s so dope to see you again! Right, Minji? Best instructor in the world.”
Both giggle, and you notice Jungkook shifting uncomfortably. Did he sleep with them? They look so young, he wouldn’t have…right?
“Oh, thanks. Minji and…uh…”
“Sora!” She winks at him, still ignoring your presence. “It’s been, what? Two years? We’ve grown up now, right?”
“The Cho cousins! Of course! Wow, you really have grown up!” Jungkook smiles now, no longer bothered by the obvious flirting, though your mood sours the longer the girls stare at him.
“You remember,” Minji breathes, looking at him like a lovesick puppy.
“You want to grab lunch with us? Catch up a bit?”
“We were just about to—” you start, but Sora interrupts you with a pout.
“Pretty please?”
“Are your parents with you?” Jungkook asks.
“No, just us.”
Jungkook turns to look at you, and you school your expression into neutrality.
“We could have lunch now and then—”
“Yeah, the lesson’s over for today,” you say flatly, unclipping your feet from your board and getting up immediately. “See you later.”
You’re not proud of how you’ve handled it, but you’re done. You’ve wasted the whole morning without getting any answers, and now there’s another issue you wouldn’t have wanted.
“Wait!” Jungkook calls after you, but you’re already at the base, not looking back as you head straight to the hostel, hoping Yoongi had the sense and decency to finally grab your stuff from Hope’s.
Hearing Jungkook trying to catch up with you gives you that extra boost, despite your muscles aching, pushing you to increase your pace. It’s pretty embarrassing how you’re practically fleeing from him, but you’re pissed, and you’re petty, and he knows it too. Jungkook definitely still knows how to handle you when you’re like this, but right now, you just can’t.
Luckily, he doesn’t speed up, and you make it to the hostel first, stumbling inside. Everyone, literally everyone, is scattered around the main area as if they’re plotting something you’re not in on. They all fall silent the moment you burst through the door, with a few empty takeout boxes on the table and Jimin holding a clipboard and pen.
“Uh, hello?” you ask carefully.
That seems to break their trance as everyone starts blinking and moving again. Yoongi gets up with a takeout box in hand and walks over to you.
“Want some takeout?” He’s being too nice, and the way his eyes shift over his shoulder to Namjoon and Hope does anything but ease your nerves.
“What’s going on here?”
No one answers. Jin even starts whistling while cleaning his nails, which earns him a swift kick to the shin from Hara, who’s sitting between him and Tae.
“Just getting things ready for tonight,” Namjoon finally says, though you can see in his eyes that he’s straight-up bullshitting you.
You don’t have time to push for answers as Jungkook bursts through the door too, looking just as confused. “What’s going on?”
“Preparations,” everyone except you says in unison, making them seem even more suspicious than they already are.
“Why are you back so soon?” Hara tries to distract, smiling as she glances between you and Jungkook.
That’s your cue to leave though. You’re not dealing with this today. “Thanks for the takeout, I’m off for a shower. Bye~.”
And with that, you grab the takeout box from Yoongi, swap it with your snowboard, and stomp off in your snow-covered boots towards your suite. Locking yourself inside, you decide to spend the day on some much-needed self-care before you have to face the party tonight.
Because finally having the time to think—or rather, not to think—and just get back to your inner zen, maybe even start acting a bit more rationally, is exactly what you need. You’re just relieved that everyone, even Yoongi, has left you alone throughout the whole afternoon, only briefly interrupting you so he could get ready for the evening as well.
You’re not sure why you opted for the clothes you’re currently wearing, feeling ridiculously overdressed for this town, but at the same time underdressed for the weather. Still, you won’t let every other woman around you push you into their shadows, knowing there’s a spotlight for you too, even though you barely take it.
If Jungkook’s the visual type, which you know for a fact he is, then you’ll damn well show him what he’s missing. Not just to give him a mental middle finger, but also for you to feel at least a bit more adequate.
Maybe there’ll be someone at the party who’ll appreciate your appearance, someone who isn’t familiar with your past or your sorry attempt at being something you’re simply not. Maybe tonight’s all about getting answers and a change, closing the book written by Jungkook.
Grabbing your small purse, you stuff your phone into it, pulling on your boots, which don’t quite match your outfit, but leaving with heels would be a death sentence with the snow-covered streets. It’ll have to do, especially when you’re hoping that Jin’s place is dimly lit, so no one notices your footwear anyway.
When you enter the main area, Yoongi, Namjoon, and Jungkook are already waiting for you, the latter two stunned silent as they take you in. It makes you blush, though you hope your makeup stays true to its claims and doesn’t let the pink show through.
Jungkook’s decked out in all black again, his fitted jeans straining against those massive thighs you’ve always had a weakness for. You think you spot a silver chain peeking out from his collar—it looks familiar, but you’re not entirely sure. You reckon it might be a new one; time has definitely passed, and it would be odd if he were still wearing jewellery gifted by his petty ex who dumped him.
“Finally,” Yoongi breathes, standing up from the couch with a clap to his knees.
Jungkook throws him an evil eye, though you chalk it up to his general hostility towards him rather than any real annoyance at the semi-rude comment about how long you took to get ready.
“You look beautiful,” Namjoon smiles, that dimpled smile of his, walking beside you as you head out to the party.
“Thanks, Namjoon, I like your hair.” You compliment him back, noticing the effort he’s put in as well, his hair now gelled back, showing off his forehead.
You’re glad Jungkook doesn’t butt in again, though the silent simmering isn’t much better. It’s kind of childish how he’s acting—not that you’re any better—but still, it grates on your nerves. At this point, though, you’re not even sure talking to him would help, considering how loaded everything is between you two, you reckon there might not be a way back to normalcy. Not that you know what normal would look like with Jungkook. 
When you finally reach Jin’s, you’re pleasantly surprised by how it’s transformed—not just because the whole town’s there, but because the decorations are on point. Multiple mistletoe hang from the ceiling, with glittery ornaments reflecting the fairy lights, making the whole place feel more like a Christmas nightclub than the posh restaurant it was just yesterday.
You spot Hope, Hara, and Tae right away, deep in conversation in front of a makeshift stage, where several microphones and instruments are set up. Jungkook and Namjoon are swarmed within seconds by women swooning over them like starved cougars which annoys you just a bit more than usual. 
It’s too much for you again—you can’t stand to watch—so you grab Yoongi’s hand and drag him to the bar, needing to drown a shot glass, even if it ends up filled with your tears by the end of the night.
“Hey!” Jin greets you from behind the bar, shaking up a drink for an older lady perched on a barstool, who looks like a cross between a crazy rich Asian and a fashion icon. You’re sure to see Jimin’s hair flopping at the other end of the bar, probably helping out in serving drinks tonight. 
“Yo, Jin, what’s up?” Yoongi daps him up, and you sit down, swirling slightly while deciding what you’ll drink tonight.
“What can I get you?”
“A beer for me and…”
“A shot of vodka and a glass of wine, please.”
“Going hard tonight?” Jin laughs, but he prepares your drinks without much judgement.
“It’s a party, isn’t it?”
“Of course. Enjoy yourselves,” he winks, setting down the drinks before heading off to serve another customer.
“You planning on getting smashed?” Yoongi asks, right before taking his first sip.
“Maybe. We’ll see.”
“Just talk to him.”
You give him a silent glare, throwing your head back as the vodka disappears before you know it. When you get home, you’ll definitely need to cut back on the alcohol—it’s gotten out of hand, and you know it.
“Maybe you don’t want answers.“
„Maybe.“ 
„You coming over?” Yoongi nods towards the group of friends, Jungkook standing with them next to Hara but with his eyes locked on you, watching intensely as you turn.
You can’t look away, not when he’s hypnotising you the way only he can, making you feel exposed to the core, even from across the room.
“No, I’ll come over in a bit.”
“Suit yourself.”
And with that, Yoongi’s gone, pushing through the crowd while you turn back to the bar, watching Jin and Jimin work, taking gulps of wine one after the other, just as soon as you set the glass down.
You can’t help but take occasional peeks over your shoulder at the others, always laughing and having a good time. But every time, Jungkook’s eyes are already locked on you, refusing to look away even when you catch him staring. His confidence is bold, and he’s never been shy about it—or anything, really—which only stirs the fire inside you, the one only he could ever ignite.
After your second glass of wine, your mind wanders to fantasies that can only come true in your dreams. What if he’s not with Hara? If he’s not the baby daddy? Would there still be a chance for you? Would you be enough?
What if you are? What if everything goes back to how it once was? Would you be happy? Of course you would, how could you not. Even the toughest days spent with Jungkook aren’t as hard as being without him. You’d take fighting with him over being apart from him any day.
But the fact that you’ve been sitting here for what feels like hours, and no one has even attempted to make a move on you, destroys your pride even more. Maybe you’re just not desirable enough, and Jungkook, being the peak of human perfection, would see it that way too.
When he joins you at the bar after some time, you don’t even need to look to know it’s Jungkook standing beside you, leaning on the counter—his unique fragrance mixed with his scent gives him away instantly.
“A whiskey, please,” he calls over the music to the barman, Jimin and Jin by now replaced by two unfamiliar faces.
“Didn’t know you drink during the week.”
Jungkook’s jaw ticks ever so slightly, his head hanging low as his fringe hides his eyes.
“Can’t I enjoy myself too?”
“Go ahead, enjoy yourself as much as you like.” You can’t help the bitter tone in your voice, hoping he didn’t catch it, but Jungkook noticed.
When he’s handed his drink, he turns to you, and you can’t help but take him in. It’s instinct at this point, letting your eyes shamelessly stray over his build and features, though he’s just the same.
“You look like you’re doing just fine without me.” Ouch.
“Maybe you do too.” You try to safe face.
There’s silence now as Jungkook takes a sip of his whiskey, his darkened eyes flickering over your face as if trying to make sense of you.
But eventually, he just shakes his head. “Having to learn how to live without you is a lesson I never wanted to learn.”
He’s gone as quickly as he appeared, and you’re left alone again. You can’t spend the whole evening like a fucking loner at the bar, so you order another glass, and once it’s handed to you, you get up and head towards the others.
Just like the rest of the night, they’re loudly chatting and laughing away, now joined by Jin, who’s massaging Hara’s shoulders, and Jimin, who’s clearly annoying the hell out of Yoongi.
“___!” Tae shouts over the heads of the others, bulldozing towards you as you stand beside Jungkook, throwing himself over your shoulders.
The hug mends your broken heart just a little, and you regret not coming over sooner, realising you were once again stuck in your head, missing out on the easy fun that was waiting for you.
“Tae, hi!” You feel a bit of wetness on your back, probably from the drink Tae’s holding, but you don’t let it bother you, knowing it’ll dry in no time with the heat surrounding you.
“You left so quickly this morning,” Hara pouts, and guilt washes over you instantly.
“Yeah, sorry, I’ve got a sensitive stomach and…well, you know…”
“Oh, I’m sorry!”
“No, it’s fine! Nothing you could’ve done,” you laugh, trying to brush off the awkwardness.
The chatter picks up again, and you’re relieved no one mentions you keeping your distance until now. Everyone seems pretty laid back, happy to let people take space if they need it. Well, everyone except Jungkook, who’s stepped a little away from you and closer to Hara.
It stings a bit—well, a lot—but you try to keep the tight-lipped smile intact, tuning into the conversations around you over the music.
“You ready?” Jin grins over Hara’s head at Jungkook, who shifts uncomfortably.
“Do I have to?”
“Course you do! It’s tradition at this point,” Hope laughs, and even though you have no idea what they’re talking about, his bright laughter makes you giggle too.
Jungkook still looks unsure, but when Hara nudges him, leaning away from Jin to whisper something in his ear while squeezing his bicep, he nods and hands his drink to Jimin, prompting cheers from everyone but you and Yoongi.
“What the fuck?” Yoongi mouths at you, and you just shrug, just as clueless.
“Here goes nothing,” Jungkook mutters, and as he and Jin make their way to the stage—Tae giving them both a hard slap on the ass—your own nerves start to flare up.
Hara stands right beside you, pulling you into a side hug. “I’m so proud of him.”
You don’t bother asking why; your question will be answered any minute now.
“Hello everyone! Thanks for coming tonight! And like every year, let’s kick off the real party with our babystarcandy!” Jin shouts into the mic, tossing paper hearts into the air as Jungkook grabs a guitar from the side, slinging the strap over his shoulder and stepping up to the mic Jin just left.
The room erupts into the loudest cheers you’ve ever heard, with Hara screeching the loudest. Jungkook glances at her bashfully with a small smirk.
“Hey, everyone.”
More deafening cheers follow, and you swear you see a black bra flying through the air towards the stage, though you’re not sure—your alcohol-hazed vision could be playing tricks on you at this point. 
“What do you want to hear first?” Jungkook’s smooth voice reverberates through the room, and you realise he’s made for the stage. You’ve never seen him like this before.
The crowd shouts random song titles you’ve never heard before, but the loudest—and from Hara—is a request for a song called ‘Guillotine,’ one you’ve too never heard of. Jungkook locks eyes with her again and simply nods with cheeks dusted pink and a small smile.
“Alright, this one’s for someone special.”
As the first chords flow from his guitar, his tattooed fingers gliding effortlessly over the strings, eyes closed as if he’s pouring his soul into the song, the entire room falls silent.
“Sleep on me, feel the rhythm in my chest, just breathe.”
You gulp, not just because his voice is beautiful beyond words, but because when you glance at Hara, you see her with glassy eyes, softly mouthing the lyrics. You feel yourself starting to break. The words rain down on you, pulling you under, making it hard to breathe without gasping.
“I will stay, so the lantern in your heart won’t fade.”
This can’t be happening. It really can’t. Jungkook’s found the true love of his life, and it’s not you. You were never meant to be—just a prototype, an example for the perfect candidate, but only a candidate. 
It’s her.
Tears well up in your eyes, though for entirely different reasons than Hara, who’s now curled into Jin’s side, still singing along, cheering for Jungkook, who keeps glancing in her direction with that same soft smirk.
“I know that you love me, love me, even if I lose my head.”
And as the whole room joins in, singing, clapping, and cheering, you silently crash. Splintering into a thousand pieces, never to be put back together. Your wine glass slips from your hand and shatters on the floor, but the sound is drowned out by Jungkook’s guitar. Still, Yoongi and Namjoon notice. They see you gasping for air, breaking, spiralling, and finally turning to flee from the hell that you’re forced to see.
You push through the crowd, head down, trying to block out the sound of Jungkook’s voice, but it’s everywhere, even as you burst outside and run towards the hostel. It’s still there, screaming in your head, with no way to drown it out.
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01 • masterlist • 03
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seraphinitegames · 7 months ago
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The Wayhaven Chronicles - Update 26/April/2024
Lots happening this week!
The edits and bug testing came back, so I’ll be starting on that! I know the demo is later than I’d hoped due to—still ongoing and super annoying!—internet issues, but at least the editing process is going as smoothly as I was hoping so no one is getting too overwhelmed!
Once those edits go in, I’ll send them out to my  next readers and sensitivity readers, then it’ll be ready to go!
And speaking of the demo, I thought you guys might like to see the logo for Book Four!
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Super awesome, right? :D Really had a very clear idea of what Book Four’s logo was going to be, and Nai took it on board and smashed it as always!
And I was also smashing through chapter two this week! I am well ahead of myself on schedule, which is always a good feeling, lol! And because I was so ahead, I decided to add in an extra bigger choice set to add some variation to this somewhat linear chapter. It might be setting up the story, but that doesn’t mean the MC can’t have different ways to deal with how that happens!
So yeah, it’s been a busy week of some exciting developments, hehe! :D
Next week, I’ll be getting those edits in, sending off the demo section for final read overs, and then getting back to Chapter Two. It will also be social media days somewhere in between that, where I hope the internet will actually play ball long enough I can get asks done, as well as all the fun things coming up on Patreon! ;D
Hope you all have the most amazing weekend! We’ll be offline as usual, so I’ll update you all again next week <3
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milswrites · 8 months ago
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Failed Dates and Fated Mates
~ Azriel X Fem!Reader
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Summary: Azriel had finally asked you on the date he has longed for ever since he met you. Only now the day has arrived, everything seems to be going wrong. Can Azriel still make this a night to remember or will his failed attempts of romance be enough to drive you away?
Warnings: None? (Ok maybe like one mention of snapping necks…and one mention of jumping someone)
The first thing that went wrong was that Azriel was late. Horribly late. In hindsight, planning a date on the same day that Rhysand had asked him to go and check on a rebelling war camp in Illyria was a terrible idea. Azriel had spent the latter part of his day glaring at the sinking sun, willing it to stay glowing in the sky for just a little while longer. Praying to the cauldron that the tedious meeting he had found himself trapped in would soon draw to an end, enabling him to promptly take his leave and fly back to Velaris as swiftly as his wings would allow.
But Azriel wasn’t so fortunate, the dull arguments still ongoing without an end in sight, the traitorous sun now beginning to softly kiss the horizon. The disgruntled shadowsinger sat and listened to the endless disagreements with a clenched jaw, resisting the urge to snap the camp leaders neck in order to put an abrupt end to this fruitless task Rhysand had assigned him.
Foot tapping impatiently against the floor, Azriel restlessly shifted in his uncomfortable seat as the final few words were spoken. The monotonous tone of the male speaking finally came to a blissful halt. Launching from his chair the very moment the meeting was finally over, Azriel flared his wings as he exited the dull tent, shooting up into the now night sky. The sight of the twinkling stars illuminating the swirling black canvas was usually a picture Azriel admired, yet now he found himself swearing at their appearance, their beaming light mocking his tardiness.
The cold bite of the wind numbed his reddened cheeks as he sped through the grey clouds. Cursing himself, Azriel wished he had never taken the mission. Anger building in his chest for being stupid enough to plan a date on the one day this month he was away from his home. Bitter that he had been too cowardly to ask Rhysand to move the meeting once he realized his mistake. So here he was, wings beating forcefully to carry him back to Velaris in as little time as possible, hoping that you would still be waiting for him. Praying that he hadn't spent months working up the courage to ask you on a date only to ruin it by not being there.
~~~~~
His heart never failed to cease its incessant pounding, even as he circled over Velaris in search of a florist where he could buy you some apology flowers in hope they’d make up for his tardiness. He practically threw his money at the startled vendor, snatching the first bouquet he laid his hands on, before once more furiously taking flight, this time in the direction of your home.
He landed roughly, knees buckling with the force at which he had landed. Anxiously stepping over the blooming plants he had crushed during his descent into your garden. Speeding to your door, he raised his shaky hand to knock against the wood. But before he even had the chance to do so, you opened the door as if you had been waiting there for him.
Azriel took the opportunity to admire you as he struggled to catch his breath after the exhaustion that had washed over him during his frantic flight. Allowing himself to take in your beautiful features he had spent the past few months admiring from a distance, noticing the extra effort you had put into your appearance for the date. The light dusting of rosy blush across your rounded cheeks and the deep rouge carefully painted onto your lips. Azriel was captivated, amazed at the skilled way you had highlighted your already perfect features. Trying to resist the hypnotizing urge to lean in and place a testing kiss against your plush lips. Wondering if the rouge would transfer onto his own, marking him as yours.
Chest still heaving, he pulled his arm from behind his back. Revealing the bouquet he had hurriedly bought you as an afterthought. Only, once he pulled them out to hand them to you, he was met with the sight of tangled stems, the violet petals having dropped from the flowers due to the hasty speed at which he had traveled.
Expletives rolled from his tongue at the disastrous direction this evening was already heading in. The date hadn't even begun and everything was already going wrong. But you, sensing his increasing frustration, happily grabbed the mangled stalks from his shaking hands, a teasing grin on your face as you spoke in an attempt to calm the male, “Looks like someone was desperate to see me! Surprisingly not the worst gift someone has given me on a date, I once got a half eaten bar of chocolate.”
“I’m so sorry,” he explained feverishly, beginning to ramble about the horrendous day he had endured, “Rhys sent me to some camp in the middle of buttfuck nowhere and I’ve been in meetings since dawn and I never thought they’d end and I tried to get here on time, I really did and-”
You interrupted his panicked explanation, “It’s ok Azriel, truly. We still have all night ahead of us. Unless you’d prefer to rest after the day you’ve had, in which case I don’t mind if you want to come in for a tea and we can just rearrange it.”
His nerves lessened at your gracious understanding, pounding heart beginning to settle in his chest. “I’d still like that date if I haven't messed up my chances?” he asked hopefully.
Flashing him a pleased smile, you lifted a hand to his hair and plucked out a rogue violet petal from your bouquet, laughing as you said, “you may want to prune yourself before we head off though.”
Azriel raised a scarred hand to his hair, attempting to shake out any of the petals which had found their home in his windswept locks, “better?”
“Almost” you hummed, carefully picking out the last few leaves from his unruly hair. “There,” you said, satisfied at a job well done, “back to your usual handsome self. Although I must admit purple is a good colour on you.” He blushed a deep shade of red at your words, shyly breaking eye contact before he offered a tentative arm for you to take, nervously mumbling as he did so, “shall we?”
~~~~~
The two of you walked contentedly through the cobbled streets of Velaris, Azriel helping to keep you steady as the thin points of your heels kept getting stuck between the uneven stones. He was leading you towards a fancy restaurant he had booked specially for the occasion, remembering how Cassian had raved about the good food and romantic atmosphere after he had taken Nesta there one evening. Swearing that his mate had never shown her appreciation of him more than after she was satisfyingly filled with their delectable food. Azriel hoping that you would enjoy it just as much as Nesta had.
You approached the hostess stand placed outside the heaving restaurant. Walking past a large, winding queue of people who hadn’t booked, eagerly waiting to see if there was a spare table available. Azriel, having walked here a week prior to make the reservation, ignored the line as he went to speak to the staff at the door, “Uh, a booking for Azriel please, party of two.”
The stern-faced hostess checked her books, haughtily flicking through the pages as her brows furrowed, stopping as she finally found the male’s name. “I’m sorry,” she said sharply, no remorse in her voice, “your reservation was for over an hour ago, we gave the table away to someone else.”
Azriel blanched, his face going deathly pale in his flustered panic. You tightened your grip on his arm in hope of easing his worry, opting to speak to the hostess for him before he sank into the shadows in embarrassment, “Is there any chance we could get another table? His work kept him for longer than expected. It was an unforeseen circumstance, we would have sent a message your way if we knew.”
The stone faced woman directed your attention to the long line of people which ran all the way down the street until it curled around the corner, flooding onto the next, “you can join the line like everybody else. Or get this, don’t miss your booking next time.” A miserable Azriel had to hold you back to prevent you from jumping the woman, showing her just what would happen if she continued speaking to you with her sour attitude.
“Fine. Fine!” You huffed, “we’ll find somewhere better. Come on Az.” With that it was your turn to lead the male, dragging him as far away from the restaurant and its insufferably rude staff as you could. The male groaned despairingly at the situation, “Cauldron I’m so sorry. I’ve really made a mess of things.” Brushed his negative words away you scoffed, “I think it’s for the best, wouldn’t want to eat at that snobby place anyway.”
Azriel’s sorrow-filled eyes landed on yours, “maybe we should call it a night? We can try again another day if you’d still want to? this night is a total failure.”
Rolling your eyes at Azriel's pessimistic attitude, you disagreed with the males intentions of ending the night early, “What? Azriel it’s fine! Come on we’ll find somewhere else, there's bound to be hundreds of better restaurants.”
~~~~~
Determined to find a better place than Azriel had booked, which by the look of things wouldn’t be difficult to do, you moved together through the winding streets. Azriel relaxing little by little as you worked to clear his memory of the bad day he’s been having as you talked animatedly with him, hungrily eyeing up every restaurant you passed.
The more and more you walked, locked deeply in an enthralling conversation, the further away you headed from the bustling streets which were full of life. Instead, finding yourselves in the remote backstreets of Velaris, the narrow winding streets home to a different type of breathtaking beauty than the rest of the swarming City.
You passed an empty restaurant, the sign bearing its name hanging on by a single rusted nail. Crooked wooden tables set outside, laden with slightly grubby checkered tablecloths. Anyone would have walked past this, opting to instead go and find a busier, better looking place to eat. But to you, the small restaurant was the perfect place for your date. “This one!” You enthusiastically declared, pulling slightly on Azriel’s hand to stop him from walking past the quaint building.
“Are you sure?” Azriel sounded unsure, having assumed that you would have wanted to be taken to somewhere nicer for your date than a hidden, grubby hole in the wall. “This one’s perfect,” you confirmed with a grin, leaning into the open door to speak to the elderly waiter who was sat in boredom at the counter. Gesturing to the table outside, you stirred him from his daydream, “Are you open? Do you mind if we sit here?”
The man startled to life, disbelief crossing his face that there were actually willing customers before him, ones he didn't have to drag in from the street. “Yes…Yes! Of course! Please, do sit down" he cheered, jumping to his feet before scurrying away to grab some menus.
Azriel helped you take a seat at the wobbly table before moving to sit himself. You closed your eyes in bliss, appreciating the cooling breeze which made the humid night air slightly more bearable. The exited waiter returned with a candle for the table and a cold bottle of wine which he poured into the two glasses for you, “On the house for such a beautiful couple.” The pair of you blushed, thanking the kind man for his generosity, ordering your food from the menu before he scurried off into the kitchen, undoubtedly going to make the food himself.
“I think this is much better than my choice” Azriel mused, eyes now seeing the hidden beauty of the place, smiling at the twinkling fairy lights above you which cast a warm yellow glow over the silent street. It was quiet enough that you could both enjoy a pleasant conversation together, not needing to shout at each other to be heard, nor needing to whisper lowly to avoid annoying any other customers. No, the two of you were free to fall into your own little world, loosing yourselves in a stimulating conversation.
~~~~~
The words flowed easily, never fading into an awkward silence. No, you could talk to Azriel forever and he would be all too happy to listen, so long as it meant getting to spend time with your magnetizing presence. His anxiety now forgotten, he allowed himself to enjoy what had turned out to be a perfect date, the two of you already able to joke about the previous events of the evening.
The food was divine, portions large enough that you could eat your fill until you were satisfied. Stomachs happily full as you continued to sit and drink at the rickety table as you talked for what must have hours.
Testing the waters, Azriel stretched out a tentative hand, hoping to connect it with your own which was resting on the table. Warm eyes never leaving your face as he slowly moved his hand along the top of the table, failing to notice the glass full of wine which was placed before you. Clumsily, he knocked over the glass. His shadows stirred to life, catching the glass before it completely fell over, yet failing to be quick enough to prevent the liquid from spilling all over your lap. The cold temperature of it causing you to squeal in shock.
“Shit!” Azriel cursed as he jumped from his seat, grabbing napkins to come and help pat the wine from your dress, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to do that! Cauldron I'm such an idiot.”
You placed a gentle hand on his wrist, stilling his panicked wiping which was making the damp stain on your dress worse. “Don’t worry Az,” you smiled sweetly, “it’s just some wine. It will wash out.”
The male sighed deeply, pinching his brow in exasperation, “this night really isn't going the way I wanted it to.”
“Oh yeah?” You asked, smile never faltering for a minute, even when you were faced with the sullen male, “and how did you want it to go?”
Roughly plonking himself back into his seat, Azriel inhaled a deep breath before speaking, “well I would have been on time for starters. Then we would have eaten that nice meal, I definitely wouldn’t have spilled your drink all over you. And I booked us tickets for the theatre…which we have definitely missed by now. I just...I wanted to impress you."
“I’ve never really cared for theatre” you dismissed, “it usually puts me to sleep. And Az we did share a nice meal! You don't need to try and impress me, you already do that every day.” You lay your hand upon his, smoothly completing the move he had attempted to do to you, thumb lovingly caressing the scarred skin of his hand, not put off by the uneven skin that made Azriel feel self-conscious.
You sat in thought, thumb still absentmindedly brushing his skin, “you know what? Come on, this nights not over yet.”
You excitedly pulled the Illyrian to his feet, thanking the generous waiter as you tipped him nicely before taking your leave. This time walking through the streets of Velaris with a destination in mind.
~~~~~
Hand in hand, you and Azriel walked along the Sidra, admiring the way the water glistened underneath the moonlight, Approaching a small empty beach, comprised of small rounded pebbles rather than sand, you removed your shoes so you could walk along it. Holding them in your free hand, the one which wasn't locked in Azriel's warm hold, the two of you made your way onto the beach. Walking towards the Sidra, you released Azriel's hand, allowing your bare feet to be submerged by the chilling waters of the river.
“Do you come here a lot?” Azriel asked, appreciating the way you seemed at home here, feet happily kicking through the flowing water as it soaked through the bottom hem of your dress. You looked like a nymph, wandering the shores of a City that appeared alien compared to the natural beauty of this small hidden piece of paradise.
“Sometimes,” you shrugged, “it’s a good place to think. Nobody ever really comes here.”
“It’s beautiful” he concluded, eyes not straying from your angelic form, the moon perfectly placed behind your head like a halo.
“The perfect way to end an incredible date don’t you think?” You grinned, leaving the water to come and walk by his side, his wing moving to curl around you to protect you from the wind which was steadily getting cooler as the night progressed.
Azriel snorted, shoulder bumping against yours playfully, “I’d say it’s been far from perfect. You deserved a better night I’m sorry.”
“Will you stop saying sorry?” You begged, eyes rolling at how pathetic he was making this pleasant evening seem, “I didn’t say yes to a date because I wanted to go to a fancy restaurant or the theatre. I said yes, Azriel, because I wanted to spend time with you. I never cared about what we were going to do. I still don’t! I just wanted to be with you.”
Azriel suddenly stopped in his tracks, you turned around in order to face where he was stood. The male looked like a god. His large winged form illuminated by the soft, warming light of the City which was now far behind, his tangled mane of hair blowing lightly in the wind, as his well-structured face held a picture of surprise due to your words.
“But isn’t that what you’re supposed to do to get someone to like you?” He asked in confusion, Cassian had always told him how you had to treat a woman like a princess. That if you took her out and spoiled her there was absolutely no way in hell they would be able to resist your charm. But what you were saying, that you didn’t need to be spoiled because you just genuinely wanted to spend time with him, had Azriel questioning everything he thought he knew about women.
“You don’t need to do anything to make me like you Azriel. I already do, I always have. From the very moment I first laid eyes on you" you shrugged, unafraid to reveal your emotions for the male who made it all too easy to love him, "you’ve had my heart for longer than you realize, and one - admittedly slightly failed but not completely terrible date - isn’t going to convince me otherwise.”
"But why" Azriel questioned, still not quite understanding how you were so willing to look past everything that hand gone wrong, all caused by his own wrongdoing.
"Azriel I would sit through a million failed dates with you, it doesn't matter! Not if it means we're doing it together." You sighed as you took in his still bewildered expression. Were you really going to have to spell it out for him?
"Cauldron Azriel, you're my mate!" you revealed, trying not to laugh as the males face contorted from confusion to a catatonic stupor, his eyes widening in alarm at your confession. Grinning at his reaction you continued, "If being your mate means I have to love your tardiness, ruined gifts and incredibly poor taste in restaurants then Azriel I would happily sit through every failed date we have. Nothing is going to change how much I long to be with you."
"Mates?" he replied, a crooked smile forming on his face at the realization. Liking the way it sounded on his lips. "Yes!" you beamed, stepping towards his relaxing body so you could throw your arms around him. "So I didn't blow my chance?" he whispered into your ear as the two of you hugged tightly.
"For my mate? I'd give him all the chances in the world!" you answered truthfully, "Although hopefully on the next date you won't freak out as much if things don't go as planned."
"Honestly?" he shyly spoke, "I think there's going to be even more pressure on the next one now I know we're mates. I'm talking major freak outs." You laughed at his words, making a move before he could say anything else, pulling Azriel closer towards you and sealing your lips against his in a passionate kiss.
Lightning struck, and the heavens opened. Torrents of rain falling from the dark clouds which had suddenly blown in from the mountains. It took less than a minute for the rain to soak through your clothes and a minute more for the male to reluctantly pull away from the kiss with a groan. Raging eyes glaring up at the sky as if his anger could cease the heavy fall of water.
Giggling you pulled his chin down so he would face you once more, the rain flowing down your face aiding in cooling your warm skin, which had heated up from the burning desire that was birthed from the lustful kiss you had exchanged.
"Don't" you whispered through swollen lips, admiring the claiming way your lipstick had smudged against his skin, "It's perfect. You're perfect". The uncomfortable way his sodden clothes were clinging to his skin forgotten, Azriel connected his lips with yours once more. The storm that raged around you not enough to deter him from deepening the kiss, tongue meeting yours as you allowed yourselves to get lost in the moment, hidden away on the desolate beach.
And as your lips sensually worked together as one, Azriel finally came to the same conclusion you had. It wasn't how well a date goes that determines whether or not it's perfect. It's the person who’s with you. The kind of person who can find the humor and beauty of a moment whether it’s good or bad. Azriel had found that person, his other half. His mate. And perhaps, he mused to himself as the searing kiss continued, perhaps tonight wasn’t a complete and total failure. Something good did come from it after all.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Notes: My first time writing on my laptop and boy what a difference it makes lol. The half eaten bar of chocolate given as a gift on a date unfortunately actually happened 🙃
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marysdonuts · 1 month ago
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Tom and Jerry
school clown!Hoshi x top student!reader
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Synopsis: After transferring schools the attention seeker Soonyoung keeps getting on your nerves. Fortunately it is way too easy to make fun of his somewhat lacking intellect. One day you take your snarky comments too far and Hoshi is all fun and games, until he wasn't
Warnings: smut, enemies to lovers, high IQ (f.) x low IQ (m.), slight angst, school setting, classmates, public sex, revenge sex, dirty talk, crack, spanking, fingering, penetration, inferiority complex, questionable fashion choices
WC: 1.4K
Status: part 1 (ongoing), part 2
a/n: join my taglist to get notified about new chapters
Changing schools was easier than you thought it would be. You were halfway through your senior year of high school at the crisp age of 17. The family had to move to different city for work. Making new friends was effortless - you were intelligent, good looking and fun to be around. Of course, big part of your popularity was thanks to the charm of the next new thing which always attracted many admirers. You were getting straight A's, enjoyed busy social life, everything seemed perfect.
Well, almost perfect.
If it wasn't for Hoshi Kwon. The school's appointed clown, now pushing 19 years old, he failed his senior year twice. Pathetic, how could somebody be so stupid? You hated him the moment he showed up on the first day of school - in purple suit, tiger print on the collar with matching hat. Cane in hand. Kicking the door open while singing Sherlock from Shinee he danced can-can. His legs flying up to the rhythm of - I'm so curious yeah! Everybody loved the performance. Everybody except you. The fuck? Where did he even get that ugly ass outfit and apparently his real name was not Hoshi but Soonyoung. Who the hell calls themselves Hoshi? Does he think he is a celebrity? Stupid ass name.
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After the teacher assigned him as your desk-mate he made it his mission to annoy you. Teacher's reasoning being - he might calm down sitting next to the top student. Such a nonsense. Isn't it their job to know how to control the kids? You weren't getting paid enough for this. In fact, weren't getting paid at all!!
//
On Friday he arrived to class more excited than usual.
"Look at my fit!" kicking his foot proudly on the wooden desk in front of you. Before you had time to push him off he continued
"Do you like my new shoes?" expecting compliments
"I haven't seen uglier shoes in my entire life." you responded with no emotions what so ever
"What do you mean ugly" his already small eyes squinting into straight lines, eyebrows frowning comically
You couldn't help but laugh. He looked like cartoon character
"Now you laughing at me too?!" Stomping the foot that was still resting on your desk " They are Balenciaga!" still stomping
"They look like boats," lazily resting your chin on the top of you hand "if refugees used these," pointing at the monstrosity "instead of those tiny motor boats, their survival rate would be 100%"
You could hear an audible *gasp* leaving his mouth and muffled laughs from the classmates sitting behind you.
"You are the worst!" he cried out "Do you even know how expensive they were.." tear forming at the corner of his cartoony eyes
"Probably as expensive as the donations your parents must be sending to the school each year to keep you studying here" your voice full of disdain
"wow a kick under the belt now, huh?" you could see the wheels in his little hamster brain spinning at full speed
"You will regret this" was all he could come up with in the moment
"I don't think so" smirk on your face beamed with satisfaction but the sudden dark shadow crossing Soonyoung's usually friendly face put a knot in your stomach
//
Much later that day, after your extra-curricular classes finished, you are standing in the dimly lit locker room reorganising the mess compiled after busy week. School was already empty and you loved the silence. The long halls full of lockers did look a bit spooky now but it wasn't your first time being there alone.
Squeeky steps approaching from behind you. Sounded like one of those Crocs.
"Anybody there?" you were sure it was just your imagination, simply asking the ghosts a rhetorical question
"What if there is.." vibrations of low growl echoed thru your ear sending shivers down the spine
"The hell..?" catching a glimpse of Hoshi in your peripheral vision. Why is he here this late? You knew damn well he ain't taking any extra classes.
"I was waiting for you..." his voice even closer now, hot breath touching the exposed skin of your neck. He was so close to you. You could hear his heart beating. Du dum. Du dum. Du dum. Stable. Confident. In control. Yours on the other hand reaching high frequency of dudududududum.
"What do you think you are doing, Kwon?" forced annoyance in your tone trying to mask something that was hiding a bit deeper. Panic perhaps?
"You tell me," he laughed but it sounded more like a threat "aren't you the one who knows it all?" Pressing the weight of his athletic body on yours, something hard forcing itself against your bottom made you gasp
"h-hey what's your problem.." you tried to sound intimidating, voice betraying you suddenly, only producing shattered whine
"You" not waisting one more second Soonyoung licked the curve of your neck completely sandwiching you between his throbbing heat and your cold locker. Kissing your sensitive skin as if he was waiting for it for so long. Wet kisses quickly becoming possessive bites leaving marks as his signature.
"oh fu-" was all that managed to escape your quivering lips as his hand spanked your ass with such force, it took your breathe away. You didn't want to admit it, but this situation? It was making you so incredibly wet.
Yes, you did hate him. Yes, he was annoying and loud. Always wanting to be the centre of attention. Apart from that you couldn't deny how good looking he actually was. Only person in school who could pull off blond hair and those horrendous outfits.Oh and how the lean muscles played on his body during P.E. class..? Except for his personality, he was 10/10
"You don't have any smart comeback now, do you?" Slapping you once more. Making you loose your breath - again.
"You look much nicer like this" the hand on your bottom started to move lower. Pushing your legs apart with his knee, making a way for his long fingers. Lightly tracing the center of your soaked panties
"stupid uniform-" you cursed. Why the hell did boys wear trousers but they made girls wear skirts? The last line of defence has been crossed.
"Oh?" rubbing the wet fabric "you are dripping all over your pretty panties" the strokes becoming spirals, combining your folds and the textile into unified mess
"I-I'm not..!" knees weakening into his skilful movements
"Mmm, I thought top students are not allowed to lie" forcing two fingers inside of you without warning. Deliciously thrusting into your pool of need.
"shut up-" already moaning. What the fuck am I doing? Now pushing your ass to meet his motion.
"If you are going to fuck me, at least do it right" another push against him "or are you too stupid even for that?" you mocked him, taking at least a bit of your power back
All you could hear was Hoshi's sinful laugh and clinking of metal as his jeans came undone collapsing on the tiled floor. His throbbing member now on your clit soaking in the wetness you produced. Gliding teasingly over it
"What if I don't want to?" rubbing in painfully slow rhythm, making you see stars
Hoshi was very much enjoying this moment. Moment of having upper hand on somebody he couldn't challenge intellectually, on somebody who always knew what to say, somebody who was making him feel and look small. Crushing his ego on everyday basis. Fortunately you were just his type.
"P-please..?" heard yourself saying. Almost as surprised as he was. But fuck it, his dick felt so good on you pussy and it was long time since you had any intimacy. It made you uncharacteristically needy. What's wrong with little steamy sex in the locker room? Nothing. Yeah.
"Please Soonyoung, I want to feel you inside of me. I can't take it anymore. You win."
Grin from ear to ear Hoshi finally entered you with such an enthusiasm like a kid getting the toy he really wanted.
Holding you by the wrists you were hanging off in empty air. Slapping the balls against your needy pussy he was pounding you mercilessly. Waves of pleasure running thru every inch of your body. You didn't notice it before but now you could feel it clearly. His dick had a curve to it and it felt fucking good. On every thrust the tip hitting you exactly where you wanted. You were full of him.
Why is it always these good for nothing guys who fuck the best? Or maybe you were just too harsh on him? You pondered as the following thrust almost took you over the edge, making your head fall forward.
And down there between your trembling legs pair of hideous Balenciaga sneakers
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wileys-russo · 9 months ago
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hidden in plain sight II i.engen x rolfö!reader
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prequel of the number switch requested here - all non english is translated from DeepL so i apologise if anything is incorrect! hidden in plain sight II i.engen x rolfö!reader
the first time you'd properly met ingrid was when she was still playing for wolfsburg with your sister and frido had brought her home for easter because ingrids family were away on a trip.
you'd of course seen ingrid around in passing and all over your sisters social media but easter was the first chance you had to really talk to her, not that frido gave you much chance swooping her away most days to show her around your home town.
"you play for linköping yes?" ingrid asked despite already knowing the answer, your whole family sat around for dinner one night you'd ended up sat next to her with frido elsewhere occupied in catching up with some of your cousins at the other end of the table.
up until that night the two of you had been a little awkward around one another, exchanging pleasantries but you strayed away and spent time with your parents. which was odd to them considering you and ingrid were only a six or so months apart in age.
it didn't help that not having seen you for months herself your sister was taking every and any opportunity to tease or embarrass you, her own special way of showing how much she loved you, yet another reason to avoid ingrid.
ingrid, though you'd never admit aloud for fear of your sister, you found quite enamoring with her sharp jawline, rosy cheeks, striking green eyes and raven hair. your mother joked to her the day she'd arrived that she reminded her of a disney princess and you couldn't help but agree.
but the one question about football a topic you could both finally find some common ground on, seemed to break the ice and by the end of dinner both of you felt much more comfortable around one another.
"lillasyster, dishes!" you winced as frido smacked the back of your head in passing, shooting her a glare as ingrid hid a smile behind her hand finding your relationship quite endearing not having any sisters herself.
"i can help you." the defender decided, not really an offer but more of a statement as she dismissed your sisters attempts to call her over into the living room by the fire and instead the norwegian followed you into the kitchen.
you smiled seeing how well she got along with your family despite having only known them a few days as she chatted away with your mother and aunt, and with the extra set of hands everything was washed and dried in record time.
you shouldn't have been surprised when not long after dinner the real festivities began and you rather enjoyed watching everyone else get drunk and silly as you only nursed a singular glass of red wine with a coy smile.
"bah you have had this for hours, drink!" you tensed up as your sister dropped down beside you and forcefully held your head back, quite literally pouring the rest of the wine down your throat, the older girl already a bottle and a half deep herself as you coughed and spluttered.
"rövhål!" you swore as a few drops splashed onto your jumper, lunging at her as the two of you fell to the ground and rolled around, your cousins cheering you on as if it was a live wrestling match.
broken apart by your mothers strict warning she would make you both sleep outside you collapsed back onto the couch beside ingrid, kicking away your sister who kissed your cheek leaving a bright lipstick red mark with a grin as you wiped it away and swore at her again.
though ten minutes later you were leaning into frido's side with her arm draped over your shoulder and catching her up on all the latest drama within your team as if you'd not just been trying to rip one anothers hair out moments earlier.
a sight which again had ingrid grinning in amusement seated on your other side, knowing that despite the ongoing bickering and teasing frido was constantly checking up on you and forever telling her teammates all about you very proudly.
it was around two in the morning by the time everyone had slowly headed off to their own homes or filtered off to bed. having taken off your makeup and changed you were settled in your room when there was a soft knock at your door.
calling out to come in you were surprised when it was ingrid who poked her head in with an apologetic smile. "your sister snores very badly when she is drunk." the norwegian frowned as you laughed quietly and waved for her to come in.
"i would sleep on the sofa but your father is there." the girl gave you a somewhat awkward smile as you chuckled, having seen just how much he drank it wasn't the biggest surprise he wasn't able to make it upstairs and into bed.
"did you want to..." you trailed off gesturing to your bed, ignoring the blush which you felt creeping up your neck which you just attributed to the alcohol pulsing through your bloodstream.
"only if it is okay? i don't want to make you uncomfortable." ingrids normally rosy pink cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red as you shook your head. "no! no not at all, please." you assured, moving over and pulling back the covers.
you tried to ignore the way your body tensed up as she slipped into bed beside you, the two of you shuffling about for a moment before settling as you reached over to flick the lamp off.
"so, what is your favorite color?"
~
you weren't sure what time it was when you and ingrid had finally fallen asleep but it felt like you'd talked for hours asking all sorts of questions big and small. swapping stories and hastily covering one anothers mouths to stifle laughter when someone was a little too loud.
when you eventually awoke much much later you were surprised to find an arm draped protectively across your midsection, raven hair sprawled across the pillow next to you as ingrid lay still sleeping peacefully.
your mouth dry and head pounding you very gently slipped out from her hold, breathing a small sigh of relief when the norweigan remained sleeping as you closed your door behind you with a soft click.
your parents already up and awake you greeted them both tiredly, graciously accepting the coffee handed your way by your mother and kissing her cheek in appreciation before settling at the bench.
a short while later you heard another door open and your sister slumped into the seat beside you, burying her head in her arms as you chuckled. "have you seen ingrid?" frido turned her head to the side to look up at you as you nodded behind you to your own room.
"she slept with you? why?" she was immediately sat up straight and frowning down at you accusingly. ever since you were much younger frido had done her very best to drive away or intimidate any partner you had claiming none of them were ever good enough for you.
there had only been one she approved of and that itself had taken months, though when inevitable heartbreak struck and it shattered, the whole ordeal caused her to become even more overprotective and overbearing than before.
the five and a half year age gap between you meant you often complained she acted more like your second mother than a sister, the taller girl constantly babying you.
"yes she did, because you snore like an åsna when you drink and the poor girl could not stand it!" you rolled your eyes, whining as she hummed and stole your coffee, downing the last couple of mouthfuls and pushing you away as you reached for it.
"good morning." everyones heads turned as ingrid appeared from your room with a tired smile, frido quite literally shoving you from your seat and patting for ingrid to take it as you sighed and moved over to another.
"morning." you greeted the defender softly who echoed the same word back, both of you shyly avoiding one anothers gaze as your parents engaged ingrid in conversation and you slipped off to your room to shower.
when you returned the girls bags had already been packed as frido busied herself saying goodbye to your parents. "it was very lovely to meet you." ingrid smiled as you wrapped one another in a hug that maybe lasted a second or two too long, a slight blush on both of your cheeks as you pulled away.
ingrid desperately wanted to ask for your number to stay in touch but as your sister trapped you in a bear hug and she gave her thanks to your parents for so graciously hosting her it felt as though she blinked and suddenly she was in the car on the way to the airport, glancing at your retreating figure as she sped away.
~
you'd messaged back and forth on instagram for awhile before exchanging numbers finally. but with football and life commitments nothing much really came of it and you didn't see ingrid again until the champions league final months later.
you watched on with your parents and some of your sisters friends from home with a sullen stare as the final whistle blew and frido dropped to her knees, runner up in the final as the lyon players raced around celebrating.
you'd clapped and cheered in support as she accepted the second place medal, putting on a fake smile and a brave face but you knew the blonde far too well to believe it was sincere.
once the formalities were over and the crowd began to clear you all made your way down to greet her, waiting patiently as she passed from friend to family giving hugs and a small smile.
finally reaching you, you made no move to speak only pulling her into a tight hug as her taller form slumped into you. mumbling in her ear that you were very proud of her the older girl kissed the crown of your head and broke away to speak with your parents.
it was over her shoulder as she let go of you that you spotted ingrid, catching her eye and sending a small smile. you hesitated to make your way over to her, unsure if she would want yet another person reminding her of how well she played despite how terrible she would be feeling after the loss.
ingrid really wanted to go over to you, she did. but with the embarrassment of the loss hanging over her she retreated within herself hardly saying more than a few words to her friends and family still needing time to process everything.
so as your own family started to make plans for dinner you caught the norwegians eye again, sending her a warm smile and a small wave which she returned and just like that you were gone again.
~
months passed once more before the two of you saw one another again, the new year ticking over and ingrid would be lying if she said you hadn't crossed her mind more than a few times, finger hovering over your contact to send you a message.
but then she'd heard wind from frido that you were seeing someone, your sister seething that you were clearly keeping this from her as she showed ingrid story after story on your social media trying to pick apart who this mystery person could be.
you of course had denied things profusely anytime frido called to try and confront you or trick you into confessing. you were in fact seeing someone but it was early stages and still recovering from the broken heart your last relationship left you with you were taking things slow.
thankfully frido's interest in your personal life simmered down as her transfer to barcelona took her main focus, ingrid also signing with the club and moving from wolfsburg as the two grew even closer.
~
your own break nearly to an end you finally gave into your sisters begging and made plans to come and visit her in barcelona.
touching down you passed through security with a great amount of difficulty not speaking more than a few words of spanish, but when you finally pushed through to the arrival gates you grinned as you spotted your sister immediately, the blonde swede towering above most of the locals around her.
"you look so pale lillasyster! but we can fix that." frido grinned, pulling you into a tight hug as you laughed, shoving her shoulder as she let you go and grabbed your bags for you.
you were a little taken aback as suddenly another familiar face appeared, having ducked off to the bathroom. "hello?" you greeted ingrid with surprise, pulling the slightly taller girl into a hug as she rubbed your back.
"i hope its okay i came too, i thought we could all go for breakfast." ingrid offered as you let her go, trying to dismiss the way your hairs seemed to stand on end at her touch.
you shouldn't have really been so surprised to see the norweigan considering you'd known her and frido were currently renting a place together while they hunted around for their own respective spaces to settle into long term.
"ingrid is a big coffee nerd, we have not even been here a month yet and she already claims she knows all the best places!" frido teased her best friend who rolled her eyes and pushed her as you all headed out to the car.
~
"see that thing? it is called sunshine! and feel the air? how it is nice and warm?" frido teased with her arm slung over your shoulder guiding you through the streets of barcelona, having already dropped your bags off to their apartment and gone for breakfast.
ingrid had headed back home after breakfast wanting to give you and your sister some time together, frido more than happy to help you fuel your shopping addiction as you wandered through the city from store to store.
"so. how is your secret little girlfriend?" the blonde asked with a raised eyebrow, cornering you as you flicked through a rack of clothes with a roll of your eyes.
"don't have one." you shrugged, your sister sighing at the answer. "do you think i'm stupid?" she asked, clearly rhetorical as you gave her an amused smile. "do you want me to be honest?" you teased, nodding for your sister to follow as you headed back outside not finding anything you really liked.
but despite your consistent denial your sister refused to believe you, asking over and over as your patience wore down thinner and thinner. you tried to engage her in other conversations but the very moment the topic died down she would bring it right back to your love life.
"lillasyster why are you lying? i have a built in lie detector you know this." frido claimed with a scoff as you sighed, the two of you arriving to her building.
"because i am not lying, stop ruining my trip with this frido!" you warned as she let the two of you in, your sister seeming to finally drop it.
~
"do not burn my apartment down while i am gone! ingrid should be back soon." frido warned as you rolled your eyes playfully, your sister needing to go to a meeting with a potential new brand deal as you cooked yourself some food.
"make sure to use the personality where you're polite and smart and easy to work with. not your actual personality where you're grumpy, bad mannered and impatient!" you patted her shoulder, ducking with a grin as she swung at you and swore in swedish.
"behave!" your sister warned with a stern finger pointed in your direction as you held your hands up in defence. "and save me some!" she added on nodding to your food on the stove before the front door closed after her.
you were dishing up when you heard keys in the door, a thud heard as ingrid burst inside with a curse, frido having warned you the lock could be sticky sometimes and need a heavy hand.
"are you okay?" you gave her a smile of amusement, grabbing out another bowl and the norweigans cheeks flushed pink as she hung up her keys with a nod.
"hungry?" you offered holding up the empty bowl as she nodded eagerly. "please! that smells wonderful." ingrid sighed as you dished her up some, the two of you moving to the table to eat.
taking the time to properly catch up with her not really having talked properly for months now the time flew by, empty bowls pushed aside and laughter filling the apartment as you threw your head back, knees tucked up to your chest.
"really? she just walked in?" ingrid gasped in disbelief as you nodded with a groan. "yeah! i told you she has no regard for privacy unless its her own, and then she chased the poor girl out of the house half naked in the middle of a swedish winter!" you sighed shaking your head at the memory.
"so she is protective." ingrid chuckled as you gave her a look. "over protective. sometimes i swear frido thinks she gave birth to me the way she treats me!" you rolled your eyes, ingrid propping her head up on her chin.
"she loves you, very much. i think i know more about your life and your career than you with how much she speaks about it." ingrid teased gently as you sent her a smile.
"sorry about that, i'm not very good at the whole texting thing. its why fridolina calls me anytime she has even the smallest question!" you huffed at the annoying habit.
"i like talking to you though. it feels...easy." you admitted, slight blush on your cheeks as you cleared your throat and grabbed the bowls, excusing yourself to the kitchen as ingrid followed.
"well i like talking to you too."
~
your week in barcelona flew by and before you knew it was your last night and you were cramped into a bar in the middle of the city surrounded by a few of your sisters new teammates as you struggled to try and keep up with the conversation.
you appreciated most of the girls did their best to speak to you in english but as the alcohol flowed the spanish became quicker and you stepped out for a new drink and a breather, your head spinning a little.
you hadn't noticed a certain pair of green eyes on you all evening but ingrid had been carefully watching, checking in every now and then subtly reminding her friends that you didn't speak spanish and to slow it down when your attention was elsewhere.
so as you stepped away from the group she was quick to follow you toward the bar, your sister far too drunk to notice as she was engaged in a heated conversation about god knows what with caro and marta.
"are you okay?" you jumped slightly as her hand landed on yours not having heard anyone follow you but you settled the moment your eyes met her concerned gaze. "think i might need a spanish tutor for next time i visit." you joked with a smile.
"just a water, thank you." ingrid answered the bartender at his questioning, sliding you your own drink as the norweigan took her water. "you're not drinking?" you asked in surprise, the two of you hovering at the end of the bar where it was a little quieter.
"i had a couple but i am not really in the mood." ingrid shrugged sipping on her water. "if you wanted to leave soon i can come with? i know you fly back home tomorrow." ingrid offered as you shook your head.
"no please! you should stay out and enjoy the time with your team before the season starts up, they all seem very friendly." you dismissed, quickly finishing the last mouthful of your drink and leaving the empty glass on the bar.
"no really it is okay, i am a little tired and i thought maybe we could go for breakfast tomorrow before you leave?" ingrid offered somewhat hopefully, spinning around the straw in her glass.
"with frido! of course." the defender clarified, neck slightly flushed as you nodded.
"yeah i'd really like that." you agreed with a soft smile, a strange feeling settling in your stomach as the brunette sent you a toothy grin back, pushing her raven hair to one side and leaving her glass as you both agreed to go and say your goodbyes.
"lillasyster nooo you are not leaving!" frido whined with a slur as you smiled in amusement at her disheveled state. "i am. i have to fly home tomorrow and i don't want to have my head in a toilet throwing up on the plane!" you teased, wrenching her hands away where they grabbed at you.
"i will make sure we both get home safe." ingrid promised as frido seemed to relax a little at that. "good good! go be boring together then both of you. boo!" your sister jeered as you kissed her cheek with a smile, waving goodbye to the rest of the girls.
your uber already outside you both slipped in, a comfortable silence falling as you were dropped home and ingrid got you both inside the building.
"every time!" the brunette huffed as she struggled to open the front door. "stop laughing at me." the girl frowned, ramming her shoulder into the wood as it popped open.
"i wasn't laughing at you, i was laughing with you." you clarified with a grin, closing the door after the two of you as she hummed and hung her keys up.
"whatever you say vakker." ingrid smiled with a playful roll of her eyes. "what does that mean? vakker?" you questioned with a confused frown, hovering in the doorway of their spare room.
"guess you'll have to learn spanish and norweigan before your next visit." ingrid smiled slyly, ducking off to shower and change in her own room. "ingrid! thats not fair." you groaned, but when you didn't receive a reply you gave up and retreated.
"is this you trying to help me work on my texting or just being lazy?" you teased as you joined ingrid in the living room a short while later, holding up your phone where the older girl had texted asking if you wanted to watch a movie as it wasn't too late.
"du er veldig morsom." the girl replied in norweigan as you collapsed onto the lounge beside her. "let me guess, you won't tell me what that means?" you looked across at her as she simply smirked, answering your question for you as you kicked her gently.
"du är mycket irriterande." you quipped back in swedish with a proud smile, but it was wiped away as she replied back in your mother tongue that you were just as annoying. "you speak swedish!" you scoffed in shock.
"i have been friends with your sister for years, you think we have not taught each other our languages?" she laughed as you groaned and crossed your arms over your chest with a frustrated huff, tensing a little in surprise as ingrid pulled your legs to rest in her lap and turned on the tv.
the two of you eventually agreeing on a movie you settled in with hands wrapped around a mug of hot chocolate. the temperature oddly cool tonight a gust of wind bellowed through the open balcony doors and you shivered lightly, goosebumps appearing up your legs which wasn't missed by the girl whose lap they were sat in.
"are you cold? i can close the doors?" she offered kindly as you waved her off. "no its okay! the fresh air is nice i just didn't pack a sweater or anything. frido told me i wasn't allowed to because my skin needs all the sun it can get." you rolled your eyes making her laugh before she tapped your legs so she could stand up as you moved them.
you assumed she was using the bathroom as she darted away but within seconds she was sitting back down beside you, a bundle of material in hand which she offered your way as you sat up.
"thank you." you smiled sincerely, accepting the sweater and pulling it over your head. something stirred within ingrid seeing you wearing her clothing but she dismissed it with a slight clear of her throat turning her focus back to the movie.
however despite the warmth and comfort of the norweigans sweater covering you the goosebumps on your legs did not go away as ingrids eyes drifted downward having pulled them back into her lap.
before she could think about it much more she'd tapped at your knee as you turned to look at her with a raised eyebrow. "did you want to...?" she asked with a somewhat shy smile, raising one arm and gesturing for you to move a little closer.
"thank you." you repeated again, cheeks warm as you sat up and shuffled a little more into her, her arm draping over your shoulder as you tucked yourself into her side, both of you doing your best to focus on the movie despite how hard both your hearts were racing.
absentmindedly your hand settled on ingrids knee, fingers tracing shapes against her skin as you both laughed at the movie and shared a grin.
your gazes hovered upon one anothers features a few seconds too long, breaking apart as you both blushed and tried your best not to dwell over how you were each feeling.
growing a little more tired your head came to rest on ingrids shoulder and the older girl hesitated for a moment before her arm shifted, hand tangling in your hair and scratching gently at your scalp.
once more you both laughed, making comments to one another and once again your gazes locked as you pulled your head up, your eyes staring deep into the rich green of her own.
subconsciously you found yourself craning your head upward a little, ingrids hand slipping down to settle on the back of your neck and you didn't miss the way her eyes darted ever so briefly down to your lips.
hit with a surge of confidence you leaned up even further, giving her time to pull away if she wished but she stayed where she was and with the slightest of nods suddenly your lips were connected.
if you thought you'd ever kissed someone who knew how women liked to be kiss, all of that flew out the window as ingrids mouth pressed perfectly into yours.
her other hand moved to rest on your cheek, palm soft and welcoming and her touch tender as you lent into it tilting your head slightly as ingrids breath caught at the new angle.
her tongue traced along your bottom lip, dipping in the small cracks and grooves before you parted them and it slipped inside causing you to hold back a quiet moan at the sensation. her own lips slightly chapped but still so plump and inviting as they moved in rhythm against your own.
but right as both of her hands dropped to grip your hips and she pressed her body into you starting to have you lay down on the lounge there was a loud thump and a bang as you sprang apart from one another.
"oh fuck!" your sister groaned, sat on the floor holding her head where she'd gone crashing down as both you and ingrid hurried over to help her.
ingrid slung an arm around her and helped her up, stumbling a little as frido swayed left to right and you closed the front door before hurrying to balance her from the other side.
both of you struggled as your sister was hardly able to hold herself up and you carried her into her room, dropping her down on the bed with a shared grunt.
"i can look after her, you should head to bed." you assured ingrid, both your cheeks flushed crimson and it was clear neither of you were going to talk about the kiss tonight as she nodded and darted out of the room as your sister moaned.
"oh i think i am going to throw up!"
~
that next morning you weren't sure quite how to go about things, having laid awake tossing and turning as the memory of the kiss haunted you.
you were the first awake and you still had a few more hours before you needed to be at the airport, having already packed yesterday.
"good morning." you looked up from your phone at the new voice, meeting ingrids somewhat bashful gaze as you sent her a soft smile and repeated the greeting.
a silence fell between you two as she busied herself making a coffee, and you weren't sure if it was one you found comfortable or uncomfortable as you pretended to be occupied with your phone.
"did you still want to get breakfast?" ingrid asked as she placed down a coffee in front of you somewhat hesitantly. "do you want to get breakfast?" you countered, murmuring a quiet thanks as you sipped on the warm drink.
"i asked you first." she gave you a small smile which you returned. "yeah, i'd like that." you nodded in confirmation, another silence falling as you both appeared caught up in your own worlds momentarily.
"about last night-" "we should talk about-"
it would seem you both snapped out of your daydreams in sync as you spoke at the same time, smiling awkwardly at the shared thought.
"frido said you are seeing someone." ingrid blurted out first, cheeks warming with a slight embarassment at the abruptness of her statement.
"no, she just thinks that. i was for a little while but it didn't amount to anything, we had different intentions with what we were looking for." you answered honestly which seemed to relax her slightly as her shoulders dropped a little of the tension they held.
"but i go back to sweden today, and you live in spain." you quietly pointed out the obvious, lips turned downward at your words as ingrid nodded in understanding, expression mirroring your own.
"but. i would-i would like if maybe we spoke more when i leave? i promise to get better at the texting." you blushed properly now which ingrid found adorable as she nodded.
"i would like that too. and i could even call you, save you with the texting!" she teased gently, a mutual agreement of sorts seeming to have fallen between you as the tension eased off and once again you both jolted as with a bang your sister appeared, leaning in her doorway with her eyes shielded by a comically large pair of sunglasses.
"i think i have been hit by a truck."
~
as the months once again flew past what started off as speaking weekly, ingrid calling you most thursdays when she knew you both had your rest days, soon turned into every few days.
and then before you could even blink you found it a part of your daily routine to call her, somehow the two of you never running out of things to speak about as the calls turned to facetimes and the pair of you grew even closer.
you weren't really sure what to make of everything though.
you found if days passed where you spoke less or one of you was unable to call that they seemed to drag on even longer, your mood souring at not being able to see and speak with the norweigan.
you were still yet to see her in person again since your last visit to barcelona, but the way you spoke to one another it was obvious that with the pair of you there was something there.
something just simmering below the surface as you'd both accepted it for whatever it was and maybe even pushing the real feelings down a little considering you lived in separate countries.
the first time you were able to see her again was on international duty, a friendly set between sweden and norway in preparation for the upcoming euros tournament in late summer.
you'd loved being back on camp not having seen many of the girls you'd grown up around for months and months, seeing some of them more like sisters than friends.
and of course your actual sister was thrilled to see you again, though on national duty she respected a little more that you weren't her little baby and to her credit made an effort not to tease you too much.
plus, she hardly got her chance among your other teammates taking it in turns anyway.
"off!" you ordered shoving away magda who'd made it her mission to make up for lost time, pestering you relentlessly as you tried to lace up your boots and ready yourself for the game, shoving her away and snatching your shin guards out of her hand.
your phone buzzing with a message a small smile graced your lips seeing who it was from, slipping out of the change room almost unnoticed as everyone else was busy preparing.
following the instructions texted to you it was no surprise when you were suddenly tugged around a corner and pulled into a hug, a flash of bright red spinning across your vision.
"hi." you breathed out with a grin as your face pressed into her shoulder, the two of you embracing tightly before gradually pulling away. "hello vakker." ingrid grinned right back as the tips of your ears heated up now knowing what the word meant.
"i should not be fraternizing with the enemy." you clicked your tongue with a playful shake of your head, finger tapping at the norway crest on her chest. "you are not...yet." ingrid smiled suggestively and once again you caught her eyes drop down to your lips.
though right as you leaned up to kiss her there was a noise from beside you and you sprang apart, magda standing with her arms crossed a few feet away and a steely look on her face.
reminding you that the game was about to start in swedish you nodded, letting go of ingrids hands as your face paled. one more hard look from the older swede ingrid's own rosy features faded, and with a quick kiss to your cheek she was gone.
you and madga engaged in a firm staring contest as you searched her eyes for any sign of what her next move would be, both of you awaiting the other to speak first and break the showdown.
"please don't tell frido! you need me alive for the match, no?" you tried with a guilty smile, withering under the older girls hard gaze. though right as you were ready to drop to your knees and beg did that facade crack, a large grin replacing the stern frown.
"snälla! i would not tell frido i am the cool one!" magda scoffed, rounding on you and pulling you into a headlock of sorts as she started to march you both back toward the tunnel.
"you know i am actually quite proud of you liten. we did not think you had any game!" magda shrugged as you gave her a look. "we?" you questioned with narrowed eyes.
"me and z, we had a bet going! but i did not factor in that the first serious girlfriend you keep from your sister would be her best friend. i think z might owe me even more money now." magda whistled as you smacked her shoulder.
"she's not my girlfriend." you mumbled with a huff, walking alongside her as the rest of your teammates came into view and magda gave you a look of surprise, stopping the two of you for a second.
"no? well i see the way she looked at you liten. i do not think it will stay that way for very long, in fact i would even bet on it!" and with a wink she was off and you hurried to catch up with her.
~
you also had the chance to make a transfer of your own by the end of that year, your performances with your national team peaking the interest of multiple clubs both in and out of europe as your contract with linköping was coming to an end.
the three offers your agent had recommended you take most interest in were from barcelona, wolsfburg and from chelsea. with time running out to make a decision and your mind an absolute mess you called the one person you knew would be upfront with you.
"lillasyster what is holding you back from making a decision?" frido asked softly as you sighed and laid down in bed, spending the weekend at your family home seeking out any sort of comfort you could to try and help sway your mind.
"i don't know. england would be a fantastic step for my career and exposure, and i would be with z and magda. but barcelona is a huge club and proven winners, and i would be with you. but so are wolfsburg and i know a lot of the girls there already. england is exciting but it is far from home, germany and spain is a little closer but-" you hesitated, unsure if to say your next words or not.
"hey, its just me. vara ärlig!" your sister encouraged gently, knowing the choice she was hoping you'd make but not wanting to hold any influence over your career and your choices.
"but i don't want people to think i am just following whatever you do and wherever you go." you mumbled quietly, frido smiling to herself as her guess had been correct.
"älska nobody would think that! nobody who is important anyway. this needs to be your decision but you know i would love nothing more than to play alongside you for club and country and to be able to see you every day. but i will always be so proud of you no matter what you do or where you go, and i will support you in whatever choice you make. show no fear, nobody can ever take advantage of a weakness if you do not show it!" your sister spoke firmly but kindly, and you appreciated her more than you could.
and so after a few days of grueling thinking and balancing up all the odds, you called your agent and made your decision.
~
having forgotten to draw the curtains last night the moment the sun began to properly rise high in the sky you rose along with it, the golden morning sun bathing your face.
quite enjoying the subtle wake up you exhaled deeply and stretched, your girlfriend dead asleep on her stomach beside you as your eyes fluttered open and you rubbed them sleepily.
a slow adjustment into reality you continued to blink tiredly, reaching over for your phone in which a quick tap of the screen showed it was nearing nine in the morning.
you knew you both had the day off from training which is why she'd ended up staying over, the two of you still in the early stages of building a proper relationship together since the transfer it felt too fast to move in together.
there was of course the other glaringly large barrier in the way, which was your sister.
from the get go both you and ingrid had been in agreement that frido was not to know for the sake of both your newly blossomed relationship with one another and your existing relationship with her.
as you shifted around a little you heard a quiet sigh from beside you, and glancing over your shoulder you saw bright green eyes blinking sleepily back at you.
"good morning älskling." you smiled, head thumping down on the pillow as she sighed again, reaching out for you and pulling you close, burying her face in your neck. your nose scrunched as her hair tickled your nose and you smiled, hands slipping up the back of her top as your nails scratched up and down.
"that feels nice." she hummed quietly, warm lips kissing lazily at your skin. "oh we have the whole day off." ingrid remembered with a content groan, squeezing you a little tighter as you laughed softly.
"mm we do, we could even stay in bed all day." you sung out as her head pulled back to lay on the pillow again staring back at you. "all day in bed with you? what could we possibly do in bed all day kjære." ingrid grinned toothily, thumbs rubbing circles into your hips.
"no idea. we may have to put our heads together to think of something." there was a rustling of sheets as you climbed on top of her, hair falling around the two of you like a curtain as the defender grabbed the back of your neck and tugged you down toward her with a smirk.
"well together i'm sure we can work out a solution kjærlighet."
724 notes · View notes
aethon-recs · 2 months ago
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This Week in Tomarrymort (12 – 19 September 2024)
Hi everyone, so sorry this is a couple of days late this week! Will be back on the normally scheduled time next week!
As with last week, please feel free to add a little overview/summary about your update to the notes! I so enjoyed reading all the notes last week 🤍
(And in case you missed, a recap of the extra notes from last week!)
Ills of Murder by @shadow-of-the-eclipse (E, 37k, WIP) [source] "Harry comes in swinging from a bleak version of sixth and seventh years, fully intending to kill Tom. Unfortunately it seems the only people Tom and Harry are incapable of killing is the other. Harry's on attempt 4 and counting and this time he gives up on spells and decides to punch Tom Riddle's nose off. Tom's still utterly enamoured with him." friend of the devil (a friend of mine) by @shyinsunlight (E, 11k, WIP) [source] "When after four long years Harry and Tom meet again, the world turns upside down. Or maybe it was upside down all along, and it’s now flipping back over." These Fragments We've Shored by @rowena-rain (M, 23k, WIP) [source] "Things have gone from bad to worse, and Harry is finally about ready to take matters into his own hands…even if it means defying the normal laws of Magic and actually doing something for himself for once. (Guess which one will be harder for him 😂) In this update, Harry and Voldemort unexpectedly come face to face for the first time since the Dark Lord's death…which leads to a disturbing realization for Harry." Anytime, Anywhere, Always by @moontearpensfic (E, 13k, WIP) [source] "A Harry-corrupts-Tom AU: Tom expects to feel victorious at his greatest enemy's confession. Instead, he develops a crush on him." the crushing weight of cancelling your fav by @cindle-writes (M, 4k, complete) [source] "Tom Riddle has made millions and built a cult following around his politics-themed online stream, much to his boyfriend Harry’s bemusement. However, bemusement quickly turns into concern when Harry meets one of Tom’s biggest, most fervent fanboys, Regulus Black."
Now onto the updates from this week!
*
Tomarrymort One Shots and Completed Fic
Chapter 22 (Completed) of A Shot in the Dark by Ragdolly
One Shot | The Dinner by moontear for @moontearpensfic
One Shot | There's Something About (The Way You Are) by Ragdolly
*
Tomarrymort Ongoing Fics
Chapter 12 of the stars, my destination by @milkandmoon-ao3
Chapter 1 of bad moon rising by sansaerys
Chapter 11 of Sits the wind in that quarter by @mosiva
Chapter 2 of a pound of flesh by @ictyn
Chapter 8 of Saint Harry by @alenablack @chaos-bear
Chapter 34 of Part One - The Solitude of Suffering by @iseliljathedreamer
Chapter 18 of Date Ideas for the Linguistically Inclined by Antique_Mango
Chapter 14 of Double-Aspect Paradox by TimaeusKosmou
Chapter 6 of God is a Wizard by @onehitpleb
Chapters 121 through 123 of Liquida Tenebris (Remastered) by @dymis
Chapter 17 of Learning to love by @l-archiduchesse
Chapter 1 of The Cosmos In Your Eyes by @v33r00
Chapter 7 of Do It Over by @thefangirlibrarian
Chapter 6 of These Fragments We've Shored by @rowena-rain
Chapter 21 of Time Stumbler by Wintumn
Chapter 4 of Hole in the Wall by tomrddle
Chapters 1 through 3 of Fetters of the Damned by @sc0rpiflow3r
Chapter 16 of Outrunning the Villain in You by @zenyteehee
Chapter 5 of midnight train by @girl-with-goats
Chapter 43 of Of Monsters, Of Men by @ca-xan-dra
Chapter 2 of the body is a blade by @lovely-lotus
Chapter 2 of Dream a little dream (of me) by @cenedrariva
Chapter 12 of Just Business by @holaolla1
*
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impactedfates · 7 months ago
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Letters Unsent - Genshin + HSR Boys x GN! Reader
★ Summary: After their death, you find a letter. A letter he wrote. A letter he wrote for you, a letter he wished he could’ve given to you personally. A letter describing his feelings.
☆ Characters Included (Separate): Diluc, Wriothesley, Cyno, Argenti, Jing Yuan + Gepard
★ Genre/Trope: Angst + Hurt/No Comfort
☆ Warnings: Major Character Death (Not the Readers)
★ Extra: Angst is fun, angst is nice :)) // Might make another part with different characters if this does well // Not fully proof read // Motivation came back cuz of sad tunes/hj
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He said he'd be back, that it'll be quick. Despite your worry, you knew he was strong, so he'd be able to protect himself right? So you trusted him. Trusted him so much that when his co-worker showed up to your door with an expression you couldn't exactly read, you were confused. It was about him but...he was fine right? Then why were they telling you he had passed? The injuries he sustained was...to much for his body to handle? The healers couldn't help him? But...he said he'd be back...you were snapped out of your thoughts when they handed you a letter with your name on it. "I think he knew he wouldn't be able to make it...so...he wanted you to have this...even if he couldn't hear your answer"
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"To My Dearest,
If I'd ever be lucky to even call you that. Although this isn't ideally how I wanted to do this. I believe I can only get these things on paper, it's much too difficult otherwise. I was never good with words so I hope this alternative is alright for you.
Ever since the day I first laid eyes on you, I knew you were different. Not in a bad way. It took me way too long to figure out the reason for this was due to the fact I loved you.
I loved seeing your smile.
Hearing your laugh.
Loved the small talk we had that would end up with me taking you home. You made me feel something I didn't think I would ever feel, and I'm unsure if I even deserve it.
If I even deserve you.
Whether or not you feel the same way, I hope we can stick together as long as time allows us.
Sincerely
Diluc."
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"To Y/N
Hope you're doing well, life in Meropide is still as dull as ever. Well, unless you decide to visit, you really do light up the room when you come by don't you? Or maybe that's just for me.
Anyways, preferably I would be telling you this in person, but more work has piled up. That's also why our little tea sessions have to be put on hold for now. Don't worry, as soon as this all clears up and I investigate this one area, then we can go back to the usual.
I have this one blend I think you'd really like!
Anyways, enough beating around the bush.
I like you.
Like like you.
I love you.
So much.
I can't even begin to describe how much I love you, and even if I did I feel you'd be gagging at how cheesy I was being haha!
But really, I love you so much. I want to be with you, of course I understand if you don't feel the same. But Sigwinnie would have my head if I postponed this confession any longer.
I hope to see you again after my work.
Yours Truly
Wriothesley"
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"Hello Y/N
I never thought I'd be writing this kind of letter in my free time. Unfortunately for me, it seems as though fate likes making things harder for me and whenever I want to even try to talk to you about this, it's much more difficult than it was when I practised in the mirror.
Or...
Well...
Practised to Tighnari.
We can ignore that for now though as I'm still trying to put this all together in words.
I would let you borrow my TCG set, you can use it as you please and I'd even let you touch my limited edition cards.
If that's not making any sense then how about a joke?
How does a fruit confess?
They say "Olive You"
.
.
.
Get it, because an olive is a type of fruit, and olive sounds like "I love"
.
.
.
I love you"
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"My beloved rose
As much as I'd love to tell you all these words in person, my search for Idrila is still ongoing and I am unsure when I'll be able to see your beautiful face once again.
Ever since my eyes laid on your beauty, I thought I had found Idrila herself, but once I got to know you. Even if you weren't the Goddess, you could almost rival her.
The sparkle in your eyes.
The pretty little smile.
Your wonderful personality.
All those things you think are flaws? I love each and everyone of them. They are not flaws to me and it pains me knowing you think of yourself like that.
Once we meet again, I want to make sure you know how deserving you are of these words, how your 'flaws' aren't flaws and how much I love every bit of you.
Though I am aware I find many things worthy of praise. I want to let you know that you're different.
I don't just want to praise you, compliment you. I wish to love you, hold your hands and protect you with my life, no matter what it takes.
I love you so much, and if I could be so lucky to call you mine. Well, I think I'd be the happiest man alive.
I will return soon,
Signed
Argenti"
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"Morning, Afternoon or Night
I'm not too sure when the Cloud Knight will give this to you, or when I'll give this to them. Whatever the case, I won't beat around the bush too much.
I love you.
Nothing could compare the feeling in my heart when I see you.
The smile that will never fade as long as you're there by my side.
You are just amazing. In all my years of living, never would I have thought to have met someone as perfect as you.
Even Fu Xuan herself can see just how enamoured I am for you, although for her. She's been using it as an advantage to do work.
'If you finish now you can see them quicker'
'How would they feel knowing that you're not working?'
'Stop dozing off or they won't come to see you ever again!'
I must admit, they all do work. Even if in hindsight, not only would I still see you even with work uncomplete, I'll see you plenty of times and more to come but I don't think you care all too much about my sleep.
But I digress.
I hope this letter finds you well, take as much time as you need to consider my words and think about your own feelings.
I'll be waiting where I always am.
Jing Yuan"
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"Dear Y/N
Aeons this is embarrassing. But it would be even more embarrassing if Serval kept teasing me about this. I've been putting this off for so long, worried about how you'd react.
Your answer.
And if this would change your view on me...but you're not that kind of person. I know you're not. And after a bit of thinking, to save me from stumbling on my words. I decided to write a letter.
Serval should be the one giving this to you, so I hope she didn't say anything to you, I would nearly die of embarrassment if she did. Anyways!
So...I know it's probably not much hoping Serval wouldn't say something actually, knowing her, she gave it away with one sentence but...
I like you, a lot. More than you could ever know.
And I'm more than happy to talk to you about this in full once I'm back from my mission.
I can only pray you feel the same, but even if you don't.
I hope we stay friends.
Until next time,
Gepard"
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WOOO FINALLY GOT THIS DONE AFTER FOREVER.
Sorry if any characters are OOC, I tried my best with writing what I think they'd write in a confession letter, but I hope you enjoyed this anyways!
394 notes · View notes
saphronethaleph · 5 months ago
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Motivation
“What do you actually get out of this?” Darth Vader asked.
His Master, Darth Sidious, the Emperor of the Galaxy, frowned.
Then looked at Vader.
“What are you talking about?” he demanded.
“I think I was quite clear,” Vader said, implacably. “I asked you what you actually get out of this.”
“This, meaning… what?” the Emperor replied. “The Death Star project? That’s so we can dispense with the remaining ridiculous twaddle of the Senate.”
“Not what I meant,” Vader replied.
Palpatine shot him a glare. “Then what you meant was not obvious, was it, my apprentice?”
Vader’s respirator hissed.
“What do you get out of this,” he stressed. “Out of being Emperor.”
Palpatine stared at Vader for several seconds.
“I… am the ruler… of the galaxy,” he said, slowly.
“Yes,” Vader agreed, readily. “But what do you get out of it?”
The Sith cyborg folded his arms. “What do you get out of being Emperor that you could not have got out of merely being the Supreme Chancellor? What do you get out of either of those things that you could not have achieved merely by being quite rich?”
“The destruction of the Jedi could not have been achieved by merely being rich,” Palpatine snapped.
“They didn’t know you existed, Master,” Vader replied. “Though, I will grant you, it would have been an ongoing risk… but, at the same time, I must remind you that the Jedi are now all but exterminated. You are most certainly no longer at risk from them.”
He shrugged. “But I digress. If you hadn’t become a Sith in the first place, you wouldn’t have been at risk from the Jedi at all. So… what do you get out of this whole process?”
“Revenge,” Sidious said, firmly. “Sweet revenge.”
“...no,” Vader replied, and it was now his turn to speak slowly. “You didn’t join the Sith to get revenge on the Jedi. Before you joined the Sith you had no reason to. And even if you did… congratulations, Master. Your goal is complete. What do you get out of it now?”
“Why are you so insistent on asking these questions, Vader?” Palpatine demanded. “Is this some kind of misguided Jedi impulse?”
“It’s nothing to do with the Jedi!” Vader retorted, then his respirator hissed as he controlled his irritation. “It’s everything to do with the Sith. The Dark Side is the path of desire, and I Fell for very specific, duracrete motives. Which, by the way, I am still bitter about.”
“Don’t blame me for that,” Palpatine replied. “You’re the one who killed your wife.”
For a long moment, the air in the room seemed to have turned to ice.
“I will use Jedi techniques to repress the memory of you saying that,” Vader said, eventually. “And you should probably be thankful for that.”
Palpatine didn’t say anything.
“...what I’m getting at,” Vader continued, several seconds later, “is that I don’t actually know what you want to do any of this for.”
“I appreciate art?” Palpatine tried to assert, but even to him it came across as more of a suggestion.
“You appreciate it, in a way you could do without being the ruler of the galaxy,” Vader pointed out. “There are things you could do to promote art, and you’re not doing them. In fact…”
Vader’s voice trailed off, as he thought.
“In fact, what?” Palpatine asked. “I am rapidly getting tired of this conversation.”
“I was thinking about the things you do,” Vader replied. “The things which you do that do, or do not, require the powers that you have amassed as the Emperor of the Galaxy, Master. Some of those things are done simply to maintain your power. Like the Death Star project. Other things are things you could do more easily without being Emperor.”
He stepped back and forth, his robe sweeping in the way that took an ancient and particularly extra Sith technique.
“In fact,” he added. “The only thing I can think of that you do, which is not mainly related to maintaining your power and position, and which is rendered easier rather than harder by being Emperor, is racism.”
Palpatine blinked.
“Are you… accusing me of being a racist?” he asked. “But some of my closest political allies are non-human!”
Both Sith examined the sentence he’d just said.
“All right, that’s not particularly convincing,” the Dark Lord of the Sith admitted. “But I also have a hobby of doing things that no sane galaxy would permit. And I do enjoy killing people who annoy me.”
“You do?” Vader asked. “I’ve never noticed it.”
“Of course you wouldn’t, that’s the point,” Sidious replied. “There’s nothing so pleasant as making someone think that they were responsible for the death of a loved one, when it truly served your plan-”
The Emperor’s head came off.
Vader looked at his lightsaber, then at his hand, because something had just happened that he hadn’t actually planned.
The Emperor certainly looked quite surprised about it.
“...hm,” Vader said, eventually. “It appears I now need to find an apprentice.”
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hannie-dul-set · 1 year ago
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HOME FOR THE BITCHLESS [7].
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SYNOPSIS. wherein your friend offers a room for you to crash in while your dorm is being renovated, but fails to mention that your new housemates don’t know how to talk to women (oh, and they also have an ongoing bet about you, too).
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PAIRINGS. choi soobin, choi beomgyu, lee heeseung, park jongseong, sim jaeyun, park sunghoon x female! reader. GENRE. housemates! au, rom-com, sitcom, reverse harem time baby. WARNINGS. the usual amount of swearing and ruining the lives of men, jay goes through an crisis, mentions of hairballs, mc is extra menacing this chapter. WORD COUNT. 3.8k.
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NOTE. here....it is..... this has been long overdue and i'm so sorry AHAHAH but i did say that i'm gonna update this whenever i want. anyhow, this is the jay chapter! and i hope this makes up for the one month long delay! enjoy, please let me know what you think<3
MASTERLIST | NEXT >
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CHAPTER 7 — sexy goth jellyfish.
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YOU DON’T THINK YOU’LL EVER GET SICK OF WAKING UP AND GETTING LULLED BACK TO SLEEP BY THE MOST COMFORTABLE MATTRESS IN THE WORLD. Seriously. You’re considering hoarding it back to your dorm once you leave at the end of the month. 
It’s the best thing about this house. The second best thing is having your breakfast cereal already laid out for you in the kitchen the moment you step downstairs. This princess treatment is going to get you spoiled. 
The odd thing about today, however, is that your usual bowl of Cheerios is nowhere in sight.
You rub your eyes, proceeding to squint at the counter because maybe you just aren’t awake enough yet. But it’s still not there. You look over to the sink. There is no evidence that someone ate your cereal. What happened? Did your cereal robot sleep in today? Did he die? Are you gonna have to make your own bowl of cereal from now on?
“Good morning.”
Sunghoon greets you upon walking into the living room, cereal-less and still groggy. Beomgyu is also there, cross legged on the couch and playing something on his phone. “Good—” you greet back, scratching your hand underneath your shirt with a big yawn, “—morning.” For some reason, Sunghoon suddenly looks scandalized. You ignore it and stretch out your arms above your head with another yawn.
“Please— oh my god, please don’t do that. I can see your un—underwear.”
You pause mid-stretch, arms up in the air, shirt hiking up a little. “What color?” you ask. 
“Grey! Why would you ask me that?!”
“Ooh, correct.” You drop your arms down. “I thought you were kidding. Sorry, my bad.”
You grin and shoot them a peace sign. “Sunghoon, go get the PD&J,” Beomgyu announces, eyes not leaving his phone. Your expression quickly moltens into a glare and a grimace. Dammit, you’ve been careful all this time. You blame your lack of early cereal nutrients for this carelessness.
“I’ll pay later,” you grunt. “Anway, where’s Jay? He didn’t make my cereal today so I’m assuming the worst.”
“Is he your slave?” you hear Beomgyu retort. You’ll deal with him later.
Thankfully, Sunghoon is normal(?) and answers your question promptly. “Out on the deck,” he tells you, and you look over to the open glass doors past your dining setup leading up to the sunlit deck outside. You squint, unable to spot a life form of any sort at first, but after a moment of letting your eyes wander, you finally see it.
Jay is laying flat on the wooden floor, shades on, facing directly at the sun. “What’s up with him?” you ask Sunghoon. There are pieces of paper with unidentifiable contents scattered around the motionless man. You fear he might be actually dead.
“He’s photosynthesizing,” he replies. You should’ve known better than to expect a correct answer.
“He’s not a plant,” you scrunch your nose. “It’s past nine. He’s not getting any more vitamin D at this hour.”
Sunghoon simply shrugs and Beomgyu is still busy yelling profanities at his phone. You sigh. Time to take care of things yourself, so saunter over to Jay’s tanning bed and crouch down near his head, arms crossed. Is he asleep? you furrow your brows and peer down a little closer. His pitch black sunglasses are making it impossible to tell.
“Wow. This is the first time I’ve seen you upside down.”
And he’s alive.
“Hey,” you call out. “What are you doing?”
Jay has his hands symmetrically placed on his abdomen, and he remains unmoving when he opens his mouth to reply. “Brooding,” he says, and you are granted more questions than answers. 
“Don’t people usually do that in the dark?”
“I don’t conform to society’s standards.” Jay sits up, so you lean back. You watch him as he adjusts the shades on his nose bridge, ruffles his hair as if there’s a camera pointed at him, then says, “I’m absolutely fucked. I don’t know what to do.”
Woah, there. Looks like Mr. Easygoing is going through some troubled waters.
“Alright.” You shuffle out of your crouching position, dropping to paneled wood to cross your legs for a more comfortable position. “Lay it on me,” you announce, ready to sunbathe and hear a very very long story.
Jay stares at you. There’s a wrinkle between his brows. 
“Go ahead.” You nod decidedly. 
After another pause, Jay shrugs and sets his head down on your crossed legs, laying back down but with you as his new pillow. That’s not what you meant, but you roll with it. This is an opportunity to braid knots his hair. “So I took a summer class, right,” he starts, and you dig your fingers into the dark strands. “Women’s wear design. Thought It’d be useful for androgynous clothing ideas, but anyway.”
Wow, it’s so soft, you think, finishing a single braid. “And then?”
“Well. For our final project, we need to have a live model to wear our design prototypes. To test their functionality and all. A friend of mine already agreed a few weeks ago, but she suddenly canceled yesterday, so I’m pretty sure I’m fucked.”
His hair slips out of your fingers. The gears in your brain start to churn. “When’s the presentation?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Have you asked someone else?”
“Yeah. I’ve already tried calling everyone I know.”
“And?”
“I ran out of people,” he says. “I’m screwed, right?”
“I feel like there’s more to this.”
A third voice suddenly pops up and you flinch. “Holy shit,” you turn to see Heeseung sitting next to you. He looks like he’s been there for a while and you make your surprise very evident by how wide your eyes are staring at him. Jay props up, also looking at him. “When did you get here?”
Heeseung ignores you. “Jay,” he starts. You’re gonna get back at him for that. “What did you tell Eunmi when you asked for her help for the project?” 
Eunmi is a familiar name. You’re pretty sure she’s the one that stormed out of the house the other day. “I told her that I had a problem and asked if she could do me a favor.
Your brows knit together. Wait a minute. “And what else did you say?”
“I also asked if she didn’t mind taking her clothes off,” he says. “Why?”
Silence sets in. It simmers for a while. You and Heeseung share a look. “Jay,” you call out. He gets off of your lap and sits up, turning to face you. You press your lips together. How do you break it to him? 
“Dude, I’m pretty sure she thought you were asking to hook up.”
You double over and nearly let out a gasp. So the mysophobe isn’t hasn’t completely eroded his social awareness. You are both horrified and impressed, and he’s looking at you like he can hear your thoughts, visibly offended. 
“Heeseung’s right. Girlie probably thought you’d be using your measuring tape for something else outside of measuring.” They both give you a look. Maybe you gave Heeseung too much credit. “What? After measuring her tits and ass, imagine her disappointment when you went off to measure her ankles next.” 
“Well, I’m a fashion major, what did she expect?” 
“I don’t know, maybe some dressmaker-themed BDSM shit!” you huff. “Don’t you know you know anyone else that can model for you?”
“I’m pretty sure all the girls in his contacts have him blocked,” Heeseung says. 
You grunt and lean back, the deck warm on your palms. “Okay. I didn’t want to do this, but—” You sigh. Your shoulders slack, and you run your fingers through your scalp with a deep inhale. Jay and Heeseung nudge themselves closer. You give them three more seconds of suspenseful silence— one…two…three. 
“But we don’t have much of a choice.” 
His dumb sunglasses are still keeping his eyes hidden, but you’re pretty sure Jay is looking at you like you’re the second coming of Christ. On the other hand, Heeseung looks suspicious. You assure them that you’ll take care of, telling Jay to go upstairs and prepare his design prototype in case he needs to make any alterations, and Heeseung follows you to the living room, where Sunghoon and Beomgyu are still lounging around.
They turn their heads the moment you enter. Sunghoon and Heeseung’s eyes are trained on you as you approach Beomgyu, who has now settled down his phone to give you a disgruntled expression— impatient and nervous because, “what the fuck are you up to this time?” he voices out. You spare him an extra second of agony and tell him what you came for.
When the words leave your mouth, Beomgyu nearly chokes on the air.
“I’m sorry, what?” 
His eyes are wide, looking up at you. 
“What did you just say?”
“I asked if you can pretend to be a woman for a day,” you repeat. Beomgyu is looking at you like you’re insane. 
“What the fuck?”
“C’mon!” you exclaim, hopping down on the plush sofa cushion next to him and he jumps and flinches away. There’s a reason why you adore fucking with Beomgyu the most. “It’ll only be for a day! Do it for Jay! Whoa. That rhymes.”
“Why me?!” he shrieks. The reason is he fights back. He makes it all the more satisfying when he inevitably admits defeat. 
“Because you’re arguably the prettiest one of the lot!” You bounce closer, trapping his between the armrest and your enthusiasm to see him in a fucking dress. “Have I ever told you that your eyes are like, really, really pretty? And your facial structure is already so nice and elegant, I really don’t need to do anything with makeup, you’re already perfect!” 
With each word you utter and with each centimeter you lean closer, Beomgyu’s face gets increasingly redder and brighter. “Your— your flattery won’t convince me to fucking cross dress in public, you psychos!” 
Before you can get the chance to say ‘so you don’t mind doing it in private?’ Beomgyu tries pushing you off, but he’s too flustered to put any strength in. The opportunity to grab his wrists and pull him closer simply just presents itself. “C’mon!” you tug him in. “Swallow the toxic masculinity, Beomgyu! I believe in you!”
“No!”
He manages to roll off the sofa and retreat to his room. As Beomgyu’s heavy and hasty footsteps fill the air, the sound growing weaker by the second, you turn over to Sunghoon, who is sitting on the individual seat. He meets your eyes. “No,” he says before you could open your mouth. “Absolutely not.”
Sunghoon doesn’t waste a second to get up and follow Beomgyu’s escape pattern. “Sunghoon! Sunghoon, wait!” you yell after him. When he pads up the stairs, you stop at the bottom of the flight and watch as he scurries up the floor. “Are you upset that you’re the second choice? That doesn’t mean anything! You’re pretty too! I love your nose and your pretty face moles and—”
And he is gone. You turn back. “Well, I tried,” you shrug. Heeseung is wearing an expression you can only describe as severe perturbation. “Soobin and Jake aren’t home. That’s a bummer.” Then again, Jake would probably be down for it, which is no fun. And you can’t risk making Soobin cry again. Your list of crimes is already long enough. Beomgyu has the copy. 
“Of all the solutions you could come up with, I didn't think you’d go for the crossdressing route.”
Heeseung is leaning against the sofa, arms resting on top of its plush back. “Actually, I never even considered it,” he adds. “I thought you’d volunteer to model for him yourself.”
You make your way back to the living area with a yawn. Shrugging, you say, “I am.”
His brows scrunch, eyes narrowed. “Then why did you—” Heeseung stops thinking. He gives you a look of distaste. “You’re pretty evil, you know that?”
A laugh escapes your lips, and you hop on the couch Heeseung is leaning again. He visibly flinches when you do, but he doesn’t move away. So you sit up with your legs still on the sofa, knees sinking into the cushions, and you poke your nose forward so that it nearly bumps into his. 
“What are you—”
You inch your face closer. “It’s not my fault that you guys are easy targets.” You can literally hear his breath getting taken away. You flash him a wide grin. 
“Calm down. I’m moving away, moving away. No need to run.” When you flop back to lie on the sofa, Heeseung’s pink-tinted face is in full view, and he’s trying his best to hide it from you all while still trying to shoot you a glare. At some point he’s going to snap at you, for sure. Until that happens, you’re free to mess with him. “Anyway, I’ll be off to Jay’s secret lair. That is unless you man up and take one for the team, and—”
“Bye.”
Like the other two, Heeseung stomps away. You let out a huff of air. “You’re all weak as shit,” you call out. Maybe one day you’ll get the chance to give one of them a makeover. Maybe one day you can paint their nails and do their eyeliner.
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Jay can’t express just how grateful he is for you.
No, really. He can’t. He tried telling you that he owes you his life when you told him not to worry about it and just go upstairs and prepare his things, but all that jumped out of his mouth is a measly, “you’re so cool,” before leaving you with Heeseung. 
That won’t do it. He’s gonna say thank you and a million more once you show up in the storage room-turned-office-slash-workspace next to his bedroom, and you’re going to be so impressed by his thanking skills. But the feeling is all muffled and fuzzy inside his chest— like a way too stubborn hairball he can’t cough out. So when you knock on his door and take a peek inside the extension of his room, all he can say is, “I made the carpet. Pretty cool, right?”
“Oh!”
Jay watches as you crouch down almost immediately upon his mention, feeling the mishmas of fabric texture with your palms. Your hands are running through a patch of faux fur, stitched to some leftover corduroy. You’re stepping on denim, and in between you and him is a large swab of linen. “Holy shit. This is pretty cool.”
There’s a thump in his chest. He’s pretty sure you’re the first person to say that after the other dozen people that have been here before you.
Then again, Jay’s pretty sure you’re the first for him on a lot of things.
He fears the hairball lodged in his throat just multiplied.
“So.” You pull yourself up from the ground. “What are we doing?”
“Oh,” he blinks. “Let me show you the clothes first. It’s a dress. It may not look like one, but trust me it is a dress—” he quickly explains, walking over to the mannequin in the corner of the room, pulling it out from the corner with a bit of a struggle because the wheels get caught in the stringy fabric of his carpet. “You can try it on, but it’s made with Eunmi’s measurements. Tell me if anything doesn’t fit right so I can alter it.”
“Holy shit,” you breathe out. “Hey, I may make fun of you guys a lot, but this time I’m being serious— this is so cool! What the hell, Jay?”
Well, that was a surprise. He didn’t think you’d like wearing something so avant garde. After Eunmi’s reaction to seeing it, he was pretty sure you’d be hesitant. “This will swallow my entire figure! I’d look like a jellyfish! You know what, I was already disappointed when you suddenly started jotting down my arm width. I’m going home. Don’t call me,” was what she said before storming off. But you’re all ooh’s and aah’s as you dig your nose into the thin sheets of intricately sewn on sheer, black fabric. 
“I was also serious about the carpet. Hold on let me try this on—”
You struggle taking the dress off of the mannequin. Jay helps you out. “You can change in my room.”
“Gotchu,” you shoot him a thumbs up, running off to the door with the dress flowing in your hands. “Don’t you dare peek. I don’t have any more spare change to throw into that stupid jar.”
“What if I pay for you?”
“Great. Door’s unlocked. Open if you have the balls.” Then you close the door with a still thinly open gap. It’s really is easy to talk to you. You don’t give him a weird look after he says a few words. He can hear your swearing slipping out of the crack in the door. Maybe he should have left you to fend for yourself against his admittedly unconventionally constructed dress.
“Need any help?” he asks, hesitantly inching towards the door.
“I can handle it— fuck, wait, where is my neck supposed to—”
After hearing a thump from inside the room, Jay believes he might have to intervene, else it’ll end up with either a torn ligament or a torn three month long project. He lands a knock on the door. “I think you need my help.”
“Give me a minute! I got this!” A minute. He starts counting down from sixty. And mentally counting down in nothing but silence and the occasional profanities from the other room is giving him some time to think. To think about how even though he’s gone through numerous dates, talked to numerous women, but for some reason they never last long. Well, all except you. You and his mother.
He’s lost count of the times he’s been ghosted (a ghost dress does sound like a pretty good idea), but the times they do communicate— they all communicate with a very familiar script:
“Maybe we should start seeing other people.”
Maybe his bonfire joke wasn’t as funny as he thought.
“Hey, Jay, is it supposed to look like this?” you call out before his sixty second countdown is over. “I think I’m wearing it wrong.”
When he opens the room to his door with a creak, his breath hitches in his throat. 
And it’s not the metaphorical hairball that’s been annoying him. Shit. Something about seeing you in a design he’s crafted with his own hands, conjured up with his own brain, is tying all sorts of knots in his stomach. Even when you put your arm in the wrong hole.
“You’re wearing it wrong.” Jay walks up to you next to the bed. The clothes you’ve shedded on in lieu of the dress he made is scattered on his mattress. He swallows hard before laying a discreet hand on your shoulder, tugging on a loose part of the clothing to reveal the armhole.
“Oh! That explains a lot,” you say, slotting in your arm into the correct gap this time. The dress still looks a little off. “I haven’t zipped it up yet. Can you help me?”
He lets out a cough. “Sure.”
Ah, what is going on with him? He’s been sleeping in this same room for nearly a year now, but for some reason the air right now is arid and stuffy and it’s making his head spin. Jay turns you around, a hand on your hip, and zips up the dress that suddenly feels like fire. That doesn’t make sense. It’s supposed to mimic water. Why the hell are his palms burning? 
The moment the dress is secured, you quickly look into the mirror. “What...what do you think?” he asks hesitantly. Maybe you don’t like it as much anymore now that it’s on you. Maybe the dress is also burning you. Maybe this design is a failure after all— and he feels that fear being confirmed when your back is turned towards him, and you spend a good minute looking at yourself in the mirror in silence. 
Dammit. The damned hairball is back in his lungs.
“I feel…” you start talking. His heart is pounding. Holy shit, he’s never felt this nervous before. “I feel like a sexy goth jellyfish. This is crazy. I love it.”
And just like that, air starts flowing back into his chest.
“Exactly!” 
He grabs you by the arm, spinning you around so he can look at you, and the dress fabric flitters along in the air. “Whoa!” you squeak out. He steadies you by the arms. You look at him, wide eyed.
Jay breath’s are bated. The sunglasses he’s got perched on his nose this entire time got crooked from the rush, falling down to the tip of his nose, revealing a look on his eyes that he didn’t know he was capable of making. “You get me,” he breathes out. “You totally get me.”
Something swirls inside the confines of his room. It’s dark. The only light coming in is from the crack into his office and the warm bedside lamp you turned on.
The both of you stay like this for a moment. Until there’s a knock on his door and a voice rips through all of the tension.
“Okay, fine!” 
It’s Beomgyu’s voice entering the room along with the sound of the door swinging open. 
Creak!
“Fucking fine, I’m going to do it. I’m going to do it as long as—”
It’s not just him. Heeseung and Sunghoon are also there, squeezed between the frame of his now open door. “Oh,” someone says out loud. He’s unsure who. “Oh.”
Somehow, Jay isn’t feeling your arms anymore. He blinks, and you’re not in front of him anymore. He turns his head and sees you in between him and the three other guys outside. “Are you ready to become a sexy jellyfish, Beomgyu?” you taunt, moving further away from him by the second. 
Beomgyu looks at him. Then you. Then keeps his eyes on you. “I never said anything. I’m gonna go—”
“C’mon! Don’t I look great? You’d look just as— no, maybe even prettier than me if you wear— wait!”
And just like that you and his dress project run away from the room. Sunghoon’s head whips back and forth between him and wherever you’ve run off to before going after you and Beomgyu as well. Heeseung stays, albeit out the door. “So, did it go well?” he asks. Jay is still staring at the spot where you’d left.
“It went well,” he replies. “I think I’m gonna get a good grade.”
Well that’s not the only conclusion he’s come up with after all that. In spite of the loud noises, the yelling outside, and the threat of his dress getting ripped apart in the crossfire, he’s sure of two things. He is not only sure that he’s gonna ace this final summer project— Jay is sure that he might have just half fallen in love with you, too.
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HOME FOR THE BITCHLESS. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.
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leighsartworks216 · 1 year ago
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can i request a tav x astarion where tav is mute? i wonder how they would be communicating
Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader
I really struggled with this request, but I decided to try again on a whim and whoooo boy it's a doozy. I also did not make Tav mute, but I played with a Paladin oath I have had on my mind for a looong time so they are effectively mute
Warnings: fear of death, blood, mentions of death/dead bodies, religion, anxiety, fear, being trapped, crying, swearing, angst, hurt/little comfort, possibly OOC
Word Count: 3,624
Main Masterlist
First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist
AO3
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You huff in annoyance for the fifth- no, sixth, time. Perhaps more. The vendor stares at you as though you’re insane, even though you couldn’t possibly be clearer! You exaggerate further, pointing at the potion, yourself, and your coin purse. If he would just mark how much the damn thing cost, you wouldn’t have to keep going through this!
Astarion sighs sharply. “They want to buy the potion,” he bemoans. “Now, please, tell them the price so we can move on.”
The vendor starts with wide eyes and realization on his face. He flushes from his cheeks, down his neck, and to the tips of his ears as he stutters out the price. You shove the money into his chest and grab what you’ve paid for, before stomping off. And if Astarion slipped an extra something in his pocket while the vendor was dying of his stupidity, who would really care?
He caught up in a few long strides. “We must find a better way for you to communicate, darling. I can’t keep translating for you.”
You made a few sharp gestures.
“I don’t see the big deal in carrying a paper and pencil around,” he answered with a scoff. “Or, you know, you could just speak. I know you can.”
You glared at him. That, he didn’t need a translator for.
This had been an ongoing argument from the very moment you ran into each other on the beach. When he had you pinned to the ground and you didn’t speak, he originally thought you were just being stubborn. When he finally let you go, you’d explained to him (in writing) that you’d made an oath of silence, and that you had nothing to do with the Illithid kidnappings.
Fortunately, you discovered early on that some hand signs were shared with the Theive’s Cant, which he understood quite well. When Gale and Wyll came along, one who’d learned some sign through books and the other who learned by helping people as the Blade of Frontiers, Astarion was relieved he wouldn’t have to translate for you. Except, you continued to drag him along to act as the middle man anyway.
His solution, proposed frequently both seriously and in jest, was to break your oath. An oath of silence was a ridiculous thing to promise anyway, especially now that you needed to communicate so frequently, but any time the suggestion was posed, you’d just level him with a hard stare.
“You know I can’t do that,” you signed, annoyed.
He rolled his eyes. “Ugh, Paladins. So dedicated to the chains that bind them.”
“To break my oath would be to lose my powers. Do you want me to keep reviving your ass during battle or not?”
He sneered. “You couldn’t make an oath of vengeance or something? It would certainly be a lot easier to follow through on.”
You rolled your eyes and walked faster. You hated arguing about your oath. Wyll and Gale wouldn’t behoove you for it - so why did you bring him along, he wonders.
-
Astarion heaved, pressing against a stitch in his side that tightened with each breath. The fight was brutal. Everyone was bloody and exhausted. Shadowheart turned from the dead beast before them to help Wyll who lay prone on the ground. Karlach pulled her mighty axe from its head with a squelch and a crunch, cheering at the victory.
He chuckled breathlessly at her antics. Almost stumbling, he turned in a circle, eyes scanning the battlefield. The beast’s cronies lay still, scattered everywhere. Blood overwhelmed his senses. How did that saying go? Water, water, everywhere, but not a drop to drink.
He frowned. He looked around again. “Where’s Tav?”
Karlach’s whoops quieted immediately. She looked around as well. “They didn’t get crushed under this,” she kicked the creature in the eye, “did they?”
He shook his head. “They weren’t close enough…” He growled, frustrated, and turned to the magic-users. “Did you see where Tav went?”
Shadowheart supported Wyll as he sat up, groaning. They both shook their heads. “Last I saw them, they were over there,” the warlock croaked, nodding over to the side. “But I don’t know how long I’ve been down for.”
Astarion winced as he jogged over to where he said, stepping over and on top of dead bodies. He took another step. His foot did not collide with floor nor flesh. His heart lurched as the world fell out from under him. A hand grabbed the neck his armor and pulled him back, falling on his ass onto solid ground.
“Careful, Fangs!” Karlach chastised worriedly. She let him go, pulling them both to their feet and brushing him off. “You alright?”
His mind was still reeling. He nodded in a daze. All he could do was stare at the nearly-invisible chasm he’d almost fallen down into… And then his mind caught up.
He raced forward again, dopping to his knees right before the tear in the earth, and leaned over it. Even his darkvision couldn’t help him see what was below; it was so dark, like all light that fell into it was swallowed up. A heavy weight settled in his chest.
“Tav?!” he shouted down into the darkness. His voice echoed. He had no idea how deep it went.
The realization set in for Karlach as well. “Oh fuck…”
“Tav, are you down there?!” He waited a moment, but he was met with only silence.
Shadowheart and Wyll rushed over. They peered into the deep with concern. Astarion shifted so he sat on the ground, legs dangling over the edge. He remembered the feeling of falling. Fortunately, he couldn’t see how deep it was, so at least vertigo did not make it seem deeper; the shadow was doing a perfect job of that on its own.
Wyll grabbed his shoulder before he could slide forward. “Astarion, we have no idea how deep it goes, or what’s down there! You could be impaled on a spike before you ever make it to the bottom. We don’t know if they’re even alive!”
“And if they are?” he growled. “They could be trapped down there with no way of telling us.”
“And you’ll be trapped down there if you go after them!”
He couldn’t argue with anything logical. So what if he got stuck down there? He needed to know you were okay. His blunt nails dig into the stone edge, knocking loose flecks of rock and sediment. How could he just leave you down there?
Shadowheart looked around at the bodies. “We could make some rope. Lower it down, see if they grab on.”
He snorted mirthlessly, sneering at the cleric. “And if they’re too injured to?”
She glared back at him. “I don’t see you proposing any better ideas.”
Karlach and Wyll shared a look. It seems they’d have to be the level-headed ones here… “We can strip the bodies. Tie their clothes together until it’s long enough.” To hopefully reach the bottom, was left unsaid.
Karlach and Shadowheart got to work immediately, working to remove the clothes of their fallen enemies, scrunching their noses in disgust all the while. Wyll squeezed Astarion’s shoulder and joined them, trying to decide what clothes were in good enough condition to hold weight. Astarion stared into the pit for a while longer.
-
Your head spun. Everything ached. Each breath was like fire in your lungs. You bit your lip to silence your whimpers, biting down so hard you could taste iron in your mouth.
As the pain ebbs to a manageable level, you try to figure out where you were. It was dark. You couldn’t make out your hand right in front of your face. You couldn’t even be sure your eyes were open. You only knew they were when you looked up and saw light coming from far above you. It was dim and flickering - the flames of the braziers that lined the battlefield.
You blinked into the darkness, willing your eyes to adjust. Cautiously, you reached out your hands and felt around. The ground beneath you was covered in fine gravel, almost like sand. The finer sediment stuck to your hands when you pulled away. There was a wall behind you, possibly made from slate. It would be impossible to climb. With a muffled groan, you’re able to reach your foot out and touch the opposite wall. The effort leaves you panting.
You lay still on the floor for a minute. Clearly, you fell from quite high up. How far was still a mystery, but the fact was you did fall. When you’ve caught your breath, you feel for any injuries. Your armor restricts you, but it seems to have protected you for the most part. You’ll be bruised as hell, but you can’t find any open wounds. At least you were fortunate there.
You look up again. You can’t hear anything coming from above, but you’re unsure if it’s from the depth of the chasm or because the battle is over. You hope they are able to win the fight without you. All your companions are strong in their own right, you know they can pull through this.
You squint at the opening above. You think you see something moving at the top, but it’s merely a speck. Using the wall and gathering your waning strength, you push yourself to your feet. You heave as you lean against the slate. The silhouette is still too far away to make out.
T..av….
A distant cry, distorted heavily by the chasm. It takes a moment for you to recognize it as your name. Your heart leaps in your chest.
… av….. Ar… d..wn… the..re…
You can’t tell who’s calling down to you, but you take faith in the knowledge it must be one of your companions. The beasts wouldn’t know your name. Now you just have to signal them somehow…
You feel around your body for your sword, but the sheath is empty. It must have fallen elsewhere, perhaps only feet away, but you can’t see worth a damn. You try instead to cast a ball of light. It should be easy - it’s a spell you’ve cast a hundred times before. But as you strain to conjure even a spark, you become lightheaded. Your knees buckle, collapsing you back to the gritty floor. You try again, but you can feel your energy being sapped away. Your hand falls weakly to the ground.
You rest your head back against the wall and think. You can’t use your sword to hit the rock and make a sound, or defend yourself if something lurks within the darkness. You can’t cast a light, nor any other spell, lest you fall completely unconscious and make your chances worse. The more options you run out of, the more desperate you become. You try reaching out to their tadpoles, but they must be too far away.
You’re stuck.
A sob chokes you as it forces its way up your throat. Even that is muffled by you, by pure habit at this point. You’ve held your oath for years; you’ve learned how to stay silent even under the worst situations. Now it’s come to bite you in the ass.
You look up at the dim light, blurred through tears. They burn as they just keep coming. Your lip quivers as you quietly gasp for air. You’re going to die down here.
Your last option, you’ve already dismissed before it fully forms. You could break your oath, call up to them, cry out for help with the last of your strength. But to do that would leave you even more helpless than before. To speak was to lose your powers. Your god would rip them away in a heartbeat, until you plead for forgiveness; pray for hours and hours to swear your allegiance and dedication once more.
A slave to the chains that bind you.
But what choice do you have?
You try to catch your breath, slow the hiccups and sobs down until you can fill your lungs with air. You open your mouth, try to form the words, but it comes out as a weak sound, almost a poor facsimile of a donkey’s bray. You haven’t spoken for years, to do so now was an astronomical feat. You feel the burn of your god’s eyes as they watch you actively work to break your oath.
You try to speak again. You form an h sound, but it’s so quiet, it’s hardly enough to be considered speaking. You need to shout. You need to let your friends know you are alive down here. Anxiety grips your heart as you imagine being left down here alone, left to starve to death, or worse.
You swallow. You have to do this. You can do this.
“H..e..lp,” you croak out, a mere whisper. It’s raspy and breathy, but it’s a word. You feel your power being sapped away. You nearly sob again. Your god would abandon you down here. An unfeeling master who only craves loyalty. Astarion was right.
You take another deep breath and try harder. “H-elp..!” It’s still a strained rasp, but you hear it begin to echo off the walls. Louder. It needs to be louder. You cup your hands around your mouth. “Help!” Tears prick at the corners of your eyes at the burning in your throat. “HELP!”
-
Astarion’s hands are raw from tying knots. Karlach will bring him big piles at a time, plopping them down beside him, and he’d add them all onto the already-quite-long rope. It was perhaps 30 feet long by now, but he wasn’t confident it would reach.
Wyll sighed, exhausted. “We’re almost out of clothes, my friend.”
Astarion doesn’t look up, barely paying attention to the warlock enough to tell him to keep working. Calluses on his hands open and turn into blisters. He winces with each knot he pulls tight. But he won’t stop. How can he?
Shadowheart sighs as she pulls the pants off another corpse. She’s seen far more anatomy in one hour than she ever wished to again. Karlach sits down by the pile and pulls the other end of the rope into her lap. She begins working to tie more on.
They work silently, but rather efficiently. In another minute, the rope has grown considerably longer. Blood begins to stain Astarion’s end.
“Fangs, maybe you should take a break.” He shakes his head, frowning as he grabs a robe off the pile. Karlach is about to insist, get Wyll or Shadowheart to take over, when a sound comes from the pit. Astarion drops everything and scrambles over as fast as he can.
He tilts his head, facing his ear down into the depths. And he listens…
H..E..LP!
He immediately shouts down into the hole. “We’re going to get you out!” He rushes back to his feet and to the rope. The others drop their half-naked corpses, and Karlach finishes tying one last knot. They help Astarion drag it over to the pit, all lining up to hold onto the end, though, to be honest, Karlach will be doing most of the heavy lifting. He guides the end over the edge, and hurriedly lowers it down. He wants to throw it in, but he’d rather not throw somebody else over the edge with the sudden weight.
He’s knelt right on the edge, wide eyes staring, searching into the dark. He has no idea how close they are to you, or even if it’s long enough. He hopes your god is merciful enough to play with fate.
“Find the rope!” He shouts down. He hopes his voice is reaching you. “We’ll lift you up!”
It’s too quiet for too long. If his heart still beat, it would be racing faster than a rabbit’s on the run. Dread builds up, heavy and unpleasant, in his chest instead. Did you pass out? Was the rope long enough? Would he have to slide down and carry you back up? What was taking you so damn long?!
He’s a second away from removing his armor to climb down when the rope shifts, being tugged by something down in the darkness. He can only hope it’s you. He scrambles to his feet and gets in front of Karlach, grabs hold of the rope with bloody fingers, and begins pulling you from the pit.
Somehow they manage to work as a unit. He’s scrambling to pull you out as fast as possible, but Karlach manages to get him to slow down. If they could do long pulls, they could drag you out faster with less work. He worries his lip between his teeth. Each knot that slips over the edge adds to his anxiety. He’s waiting for the moment it reaches the end and nothing is there. He can only take solace in the fact he can feel your weight holding on. Gods, he thinks desperately, just keep holding on.
After an eternity of pulling, a hand reaches over the ledge. Karlach makes up for his absence when he lets go and falls to his knees at the edge. He reaches in and wraps his hands under your arms, heaving you up and, finally, back on solid ground. He pulls you solidly into his arms, sliding back away from the edge. He’s sick and tired of chasms.
You’re no longer wearing your armor, and your weapons belt is gone, too. Fine, black dirt sticks to your clothes and hands, and even smears across your face, washed away by a stream of tears. He wipes them away with one hand; he can’t give a damn about the blood he leaves in its place.
“I’ve got you,” he breathes. You sob as fall forward, your head landing solidly against his shoulder. Your whole body trembles and shudders with each cry. He’s disconcerted by the sound of your voice, no longer purposefully muffled. He threads his fingers into your hair, holding you to him. “Shh. I’ve got you. You’re safe, I’ve got you.”
-
If your body ached at the bottom of the pit, now you couldn’t even think about moving. Astarion had carried you as far as he could and then some, until Karlach had to take you from his arms before he dropped you. Even then, he stayed right by her side, watching you anxiously.
Back at camp, Shadowheart healed what she could, but most of her energy was spent during the fight. Haslin took over, but even the best he could do would have you bruised and in pain for the next few days. He went into the woods for ingredients to make a soothing balm.
Wyll helped you drink water, and Gale helped you drink some broth, to hold you over until he could make dinner proper. Lae’zel rifled through your veritable hoard of supplies to find you some suitable armor and weapons, and worked to sharpen and polish them.
When you were finally given the chance to rest, Astarion carried you from your bedroll into his tent, laying you down on his own bedroll. He provided as many pillows as you wished, as many blankets as you could ever ask for. He gathered a bowl of water and a fresh cloth and worked to clean the grime off your face.
You watched blankly, too emotionally and physically exhausted to process much. He passed the cloth over your forehead. It was blessedly cool, but the flash of red that crossed your vision could not be ignored.
Arms like lead, you willed a hand to grab his, stopping him mid-swipe. He winced as you pried the cloth from his hand, where it dropped wetly onto your neck, and ran your thumb along his palm. Blisters and blood covered every inch, skin torn and peeling in places. Without even thinking, you try casting a spell to heal him.
Whereas before, when you tried to cast a spell, you could feel it draining your energy from you, now you just felt nothing. It was like dipping a bucket into a well and coming up empty. There is no more magic within you to fuel a spell. Tears prick at your eyes again.
Astarion sighs, long and low. “You don’t have your magic.”
It takes far too much effort to even shake your head. You take a breath, and through the rasping pain, you speak. “They… took it away when… I called for help…” You swallow thickly. Your voice was foreign to you.
It was foreign to Astarion, too. He could recognize the way you signed, the slight variations of years of experience against Gale’s book-perfect signing or even Wyll’s slower, more purposeful movements. He associated it with you so strongly. To hear you speak was like watching a ventriloquist put on a show.
A bitter feeling took hold within him. Just like all gods, all masters, all people with power to laud over another, you were abandoned in your darkest hour, by someone you spent so long dedicated to. Prayers, offerings at alters, your faithful silence - it would never be enough, not to a god who always craved more.
But now isn’t the time to say I told you so. Gently, he removes his hand from your grasp. Your hand flops back to your side. He takes the cloth from where it rested at your neck, re-wets it, and continues cleaning your face.
He doesn’t say anything as he wipes away your tears, catching them before they have a chance to slide down to your ears. When the sobs choke you, he helps you drink some water. When your sorrow lulls you to sleep, he tucks you in and stays by your side, a faithful argus.
---
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