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hansolmates · 4 years ago

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here comes the bride, all dressed in pride

summary; You and your cousin Doyeon have had beef with each other since the sandbox. When she plucks the last straw, you decide to end your long-simmering fight by claiming that you and her ex—Jeon Jungkook, are now boyfriend and girlfriend pairing; jungkook x reader (f) genre/warnings; fake dating!au, fluff, crack, mentions of cheating, lang, alcohol, mc eats meat, tw sexual harassment, toxic family, dick talk, making out, if u have that one family member that pulls bs on you constantly this is it, this fic is for all the people who have a huge ass family who wont leave them alone w.c; 17.3k a/n: my second fic for gcn’s 23 birthday project! the fact that wedding szn zoomed by us like that... and so bc im sad that so many weddings had to be postponed this fic was born! a huge thank u to vivi @eerieedits / @chillingtae for creating this BEAUTIFUL fic banner and separator pls check vivi out to make your fics all purty

prompts used: “You’ve always been beautiful to me, don’t you know that?” and “I never knew love could be like this, feel like this.”

if you enjoyed this pls consider giving a like and a share💕💕

Doyeon likes to call Jungkook, “the one who got away.”

You like to call Doyeon, “the one who drove him away.”

In secret, of course. In fact, the only person who knows how much you loathe Doyeon and her behavior is your father. And all your co-workers. And your boss. And your boss’ ex-husband.

And Jeon Jungkook, but of course you haven’t seen the man in two years and back then he was far too polite to address his concerns of your hatred of his then-girlfriend.

Okay, so everyone and their mother knows how much you don’t like your cousin. Kim Doyeon and you have had beef since the sandbox, and for whatever reason is always out to one-up you. A strange competitive nature in everything, academics, family, and even boys. The sick, twisted part of you has come to enjoy it. While you’re not a fighter as devout as Doyeon is, you have your own callous tendencies farmed from the seeds Doyeon has planted in your brain. She gives you a comment? You can’t help but throw one back. Since you’re a painfully mature soul you don’t have any mortal enemies as far as you know, Doyeon is the perfect amount of hot water to keep you on your toes.

“I’m really sorry that you couldn’t be a bridesmaid,” Doyeon cooes next to you, swirling her champagne glass with a too-jutted pout, “but if I did there’d be an odd number of pairings and you’re a little too old to be walking as a bridesmaid, am I right?”

Your nails. Are digging. Through your dress. Alas, you’re in public and you have class. Doyeon smiles at you with all teeth, reminding you of the Beldam from Coraline. Aside from that she looks absolutely stunning in that Lirika Matoshi strawberry dress that has her Instagram aching with likes and love from her baseless followers.

“I don’t know,” you reply lightly, leaning back in your seat, “I mean, if Yoojung and Rena can be bridesmaids and they’re three years older than me, wouldn’t I make the cut? It’s okay to be honest and say you just didn’t want me in the bridal party.”

Doyeon laughs, slaps your thigh like you told her the most hilarious joke in the world. Anyone passing by would think you’re best friends. You laugh too, incredulous at the amount of power she thinks she holds.

“Nice party,” you tack on, surveying the room. It’s filled with pastels and beiges, bright and airy. It’s Parisian themed, and while you’re not a fan of theming cultures, you can’t deny that you’re loving the infinite supply of macarons.

“Oh, yes. This is just a taste of the real wedding,” she laces her fingers together, as if she thinks she’s living an Elizibethean love story, “speaking of, you put on your RSVP that you’re bringing a plus one. Am I allowed to know who’s the unlucky date?”

“As if you care.”

“I care if you’re bringing Jimin. That tiny thing nearly gave Aunt Lillian a heart attack when he gave a striptease at Yoongi’s graduation party.”

You smirk softly at the bold memory. That was the plan.

Doyeon sighs dramatically, crossing her legs and popping out a cherry red heel. She plays with the back on the balls of her feet, letting the little pearly rhinestones glisten in the candlelight, “I should really commend you, cousin,” she drawls, “I mean, how kind of you to be so charitable and give your dopey friends a chance to have fun. After all, I’m sure it is difficult for someone like you to find a date.”

It’s no surprise as to how you end up with a date at any family formal gathering. You say you bring a plus one, and then between Jimin, Taehyung and Hoseok. The three of them draw straws as to who gets to gorge on free alcohol and food for that night.

“Difficult?” you arch a brow, “I get plenty of dates.”

Doyeon giggles. She must be feeling extra vindictive today, high on her impending marriage and the taste of bubbly champagne. “By taking turns with those three? You gotta be kidding me,” she snorts, tipping back her crystal, “please y/n. Don’t get so defensive because I’m getting married first. Your time will come. That is, if you stop dicking around with your friends.”

Normally you’d smother any attempt at Doyeon to call out your friends, but now she’s just done that and insulted your ability to get some, and you are livid.

“Actually,” you quip sharply, “I’ve been dating someone. It’s been a couple months, actually.”

“Oh?” Doyeon’s genuinely interested, face falling slightly, “you’ve never mentioned anyone, I don’t see anyone on your social media.”

“Yeah well,” you feign sympathy, pressing your lips together and tilting your head accordingly, “I’ve had to keep it private for a couple of reasons.”

“What, is he ugly or something?” she chuckles, “but really, who’s the person who has the misfortune of being in a committed relationship with you?”

Maybe it’s because Doyeon’s right, the both of you are too old. The two of you have been running around each other for years, with no end in sight. Maybe, the words that linger on the tip of your tongue will be the final nail in the coffin.

“Jeon Jungkook,” you state proudly, clear as day. “Jungkook and I have been dating for three months.”

And you pick up the vanilla macaron that sits innocently on your plate, ravishing it up like it contained all the tension in your table. Between you and Doyeon’s bubble, you could hear a pin drop.

“Jungkook?” her smile is concrete-solid, “my Jungkook?”

“My Jungkook,” you correct, giving her a puppy-eyed look, “I’m really sorry I never told you. I mean, is there ever a right time to tell your cousin they’re dating their ex-boyfriend?” you laugh, either to lighten the mood or because you love the way Doyeon pinches her face, you don’t know.

“How did you two even meet?”

“We reconnected through Seokjin. You know how the two of them play Starcraft together, I just ended up joining the call and he was so funny and nice. We just sorta… felt it.” Doyeon nods like a slow bobblehead, still comprehending in her pea-sized brain, “I just hope it isn’t too awkward. I know it’s been awhile but, if you really don’t want Jungkook to come I can always take Hoseok or something.”

“No, it’s fine,” Doyeon says a little too quickly, masking on her picture-perfect smile. “I’m with Namjoon now, and I’m totally happy. Water under the bridge, it’ll be totally fine.”

“Really?” your eyes practically sparkle, thankful for the amount of glitter and highlighter you’ve dumped on your face today, “I really appreciate it, Yeonie.”

And she quickly downs her champagne glass, and gets up from her seat. It’s haunting, the way she gets up, pink tulle billowing around her ankles. “I have to attend to the other guests,” she says.

“Of course,” you raise your glass.

“But, be careful,” she gives you a little smile, one filled with a last-ditch attempt at a jab, “Jungkook, he’s a little hard to deal with.”

“Oh don’t worry. I know how to deal with Jungkook’s hardness,” you wink, and Doyeon’s face falls like a ton of bricks.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know,” you shrug loftily, “that’s what I meant, though.”

And you don’t bother watching Doyeon stomp off the metaphorical stage, double fisting two new glasses of champagne from an awaiting butler as she finds some other poor guest to pick on. Now, the matter of securing your date. Conveniently so, the most important man in the room is walking your way, and you manage to snag his tie just as he passes your table.

“Ow—ow! I’m choking!” Seokjin grabs, nearly throwing his tall body onto your lap, hands grappling to release the tension on his neck. “Leave me alone, woman! I just wanted to get some chicken tenders!”

“Jin,” you say sweetly, opening his blazer to retrieve his phone, “I need Jeon’s number, now.”

“Jungkook?” your favorite cousin pales, eyes widening as you take out your phone of your own, copying down the digits, “what did you do?”

“Don’t ask questions.”

Seokjin says your name again, firmer. “You’re playing with fire.”

“It’ll be fine, it’s the last time,” you quell, already knowing how much Seokjin hates being in the middle of your fights. Once you’ve secured the phone number, you place Seokjin’s phone back into his pocket, patting his breast. “Thank you. You know you’re my favorite cousin, you know that?”

He grumbles a “damn right I am” before stomping away, resuming his race for his chicken tenders.

You: hey jeon it’s y/n. I see you’re doing great, i saw on instagram that you released your first app w/yoongi! Totally amazing, been playing for weeks, really upset that i can’t get past the flaming frog boss :((

You: Feel free to ignore this, i won’t blame you if you do. Im at doyeon’s rehearsal dinner, and she basically snubbed my friends and said i couldn’t get some prime dick even though im?? Me??? Anyway, im tired of her shit so im gonna throw it back at her, one last time before she ties the knot. I told her you and i have been dating, and im bringing you as my date to her wedding. Really sorry, the demons took over my brain and made the worst and best comeback of my life. So… if you’re up for being the hottest couple on the floor in three weeks and showing how madly in love we are, please text me back? Or not. You might think this family is crazy and i accept partial responsibility.

You: I’ll buy u every meal for every practice date we have if u agree.💕💕💕

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: thanks, i appreciate that. To defeat the frog boss, go back to the coconut cave and find the garnet garter. It absorbs his fire and u can easily defeat froggo w any level 15 weapon

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: and as for the real reason u texted me. Im in. let’s get pork belly tomorrow.

Two years ago, you were surprised that Doyeon could manage to snag a man as fine as Jeon Jungkook. Also unsurprised, because Doyeon is gorgeous and could snag any man she wanted, and has snagged every man she wanted.

Jungkook was different though. He had an air of innocence to him. He loved her, a little too much to be safe. Your heart would betray you every time you would find him at a family gathering, making her plate and counting the calories she so meticulously measured. How can someone so sweet be with someone like Doyeon?

Your heart ached for Jungkook when they broke up a year later. From what you heard, Doyeon was Jungkook’s first serious girlfriend. And then you wanted to rip your heart out a week later when you caught Doyeon smooching with her favorite graduate professor Kim Namjoon, wanting to erase any possibility you’d have at love. At that time, you never wanted to feel the pain you imagined Jungkook was going through.

“Y/n! Over here!” you’re a little taken aback at how much has not changed in Jungkook. His eyes still sparkle like fresh dew, his smile is still pearly white and infectious. He’s even early, snagging a table at his favorite barbeque place and waiting for you as if he is the one organizing your first date.

At the same time, there’s so much that’s changed about him. He’s confident, even going so far as to walk over to you and slip your jacket and purse in his grasp like a gentleman. He leads you by putting a hand lightly at the small of your back, making you feel impossibly small in comparison to his Dorito-shaped body, broad shoulders and a deliciously trim waist.

“How was the walk over?”

“Not too bad,” the conversation is casual, easy. You wipe the sweat off your forehead with a napkin. “Could use a little exercise now and again. I did eat a whole tray of macarons at that rehearsal dinner.”

Jungkook laughs from his belly, causing you to smile. “Nonsense. You look great, by the way,” you don’t mind it, actually, you enjoy it when his eyes rake over your body. After all, he’s now your boyfriend and he needs to get familiar with all the important bits. He leans his arms forward, bracing him against the wooden table so his face is closer to yours.

“You’re not doing too bad yourself,” your eyes gloss over the veins and intricate tattoos that paint his muscled upper half. Your smile morphs into a smirk, letting him know you’re enjoying the view just as well as he is.

And as soon as the tension sparks, it ends just as fast when your waiter comes up to light your grill.

“So,” Jungkook wastes no time in decorating your stove, making sure to add all the appropriate aromatics and infusions to season your lunch, “do you know why Doyeon and I broke up?”

“Cheated on you with Namjoon, I assume,” you keep your eyes trained on the darkening meat.

Jungkook slips a piece of meat in his mouth. Any expression of pain (whether it be from Doyeon or the barely cooked meat) doesn’t reveal itself as he stops to take a sip of water. “Who else knows?”

“Just me and Seokjin. The family loved you too much and Doyeon made up some sob story about how you two were going different life paths.”

He chuckles to himself, taking great care in flipping the meat. “I really was a fool in love, wasn’t I?”

“It… was mildly cute.”

“Tell me the truth, you have no reason not to.”

“Okay, you made me want to vomit rainbows and glitter every time I saw you.”

The two of you laugh, faces crinkling shamelessly as the two of you busy yourselves with setting up the table. Most of the food is done and the aroma of fresh onions wafts around your grill. As you place chopsticks on his side of the table, you think about all the times Jungkook made it abundantly clear how much he loved Doyeon: the love letters tucked into her purse, 100 day anniversaries, even just a simple Americano for her in the morning.

“Is that why you never hung out with us?”

“No,” you reply lightly, “Doyeon made it clear that I shouldn’t talk to you.”

Jungkook frowns, “You really don’t like each other, do you.”

You shrug, “Just always been like that,” you quirk a smile when Jungkook places the freshly cooked meat on top of your rice before serving himself.

“So what’s the plan?”

“We go to the wedding, make out a little, get Doyeon boiling. Even if she’s not interested in you, she’d still be upset knowing we are together.”

“And why is that?”

“Because it’s me,” you grin into your glass, staring at a water-stained Jungkook through the blue tinted glass. “And all you have to do, is enjoy your night and look pretty.”

His eyes crinkle, chopsticks pressing between his lips. “You think I look pretty?”

With a roll of eyes you don’t respond, preferring to dig your chopsticks in your rice. No need to inflate Jungkook’s ego too soon.

Pinning the main theme of your hangout to the side, the both of you dig into your meal. You throw conversation back and forth like pebbles, grains of sand that build and build until you’re caught up with each other’s lives. It feels so strange to admit it’s been two years since you’ve spoken to the man, and all of a sudden the once luscious meat feels dry in your mouth.

“Jeon,” you put your chopsticks down, “are you sure you want to do this with me? I mean, I know it’s all my fault and I dragged you into it. Don’t feel obligated to agree to this.”

“I’m a hundred-percent sure,” he doesn’t stop eating, shoving two spoonfuls of rice in his mouth. His cheeks puff up considerably, and your eyes trail down to his neck as he swallows, “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t wanna.”

“Right,” you don’t need a big explanation or a personal confession from Jungkook, just his consent. “Partners, Jeon?” you hold up your glass.

“Partners,” he agrees easily. The smile on his face disarms you, a full-fledged grin decked with pearly whites. Clicking his glass to yours he adds, “And it’s Jungkook, babe.”

Oh, this is going to be interesting.

Seokjin thinks the two of you are the most boring fake-couple.

His eyes dart back and forth between your spot on the couch and his desk, where Jungkook is currently seated. Seokjin is hovered over Jungkook, who’s typing and clicking furiously over his PC game. You’re on your phone, feet pulled up to the coffee table while some old Netflix movie plays in the background. To top it all off both of you didn’t even try to dress like it’s daytime, nearly matching in sweatpants and an oversized hoodie. It doesn’t look like a couple coming to visit Seokin, it looks like Jungkook is playing video games with Seokjin while his cousin hangs around like she owns the place.

“Shouldn’t you guys like, I don’t know, go on dates or something?” Seokjin feels like he’s talking to the air. “Maybe get to know each other before the big day?”

Pulling your phone down to your lap and Jungkook taking off his headphones, the two of you shrug at each other, “No, we’re good.” Jungkook says.

“We know enough,” you agree cooly, “Jungkook likes Valorant.”

“I do like Valorant.”

“He likes pork belly.”

“I do like pork belly.”

“He’s ripped as hell.”

“I am ripped as hell.”

“Okay but have you guys kissed yet?” Seokjin interjects, probably compensating for the nonchalance in the room with his own brand of freaking out. You two only see each other when you’re hanging out at Seokjin’s apartment, and while he’s happy that you two aren’t doing the whole 9-yards and creating an elaborate scheme, the both of you are almost too relaxed. His anxiety is spiking.

“Yes,” Jungkook answers, “at the barbeque place we went to.”

“It was nice," you tack on, "Jin, we got this. Don't worry."

"How can I not worry when you're trying to upset our cousin on her wedding day?" he's sweating in his fully air-conditioned apartment. “I get that she’s the devil’s spawn and everything, but she’s still a human being.”

“In second grade she pushed me on the treadmill because I was going too slow. I got caught on the roller and got a bald spot for two months.”

“Okay yes one bad example—”

“And in senior year she accused me of plagiarizing her essay just because we chose the same topic. I almost didn’t get into college!” Seokjin sighs, crossing his arms. All valid points, and arguing with you isn’t a route he wants to take. “Jin, the point is that she’s constantly pushing my buttons. I’ve always been the bigger person and now that I’m old and confident I just want one jab.”

“That’s valid,” Jungkook pipes up, pressing the spacebar a few times, “I want a jab too, she cheated on me.”

“See? It’s a mutual decision.”

Seokjin asks, “Why aren’t you more worried about this?”

"Because Doyeon isn't going to chew me out on her wedding day," you checked your aunt's seating chart last week and you are far, far away from the bridal table. "We're just going to show off a little bit. Get drunk, eat some bomb steak. Break up in three months or less.”

"You don't have to just convince Doyeon, it's your entire family! Not to mention you also have to go to the bachelor party!"

"Oh I almost forgot," you reach under the couch for your laptop, "Jungkook, in two weekends from now we're flying to Las Vegas for the bachelor party and wedding. I'll buy your ticket now."

"Thanks, babe!” Jungkook sends a cheeky grin to Seokjin, who is unimpressed. “See? I remember to call her babe.”

“Alright, get out of my house,” Seokjin tugs Jungkook away from his computer, causing the younger man to swivel around in his plush gaming chair.

Jungkook frowns at the monitor, “But I’m still bronze one. I’m aiming for silver one by this weekend.”

“Don’t care. As much as I don’t like this plan, I’m not letting you two slip-up.” Seokjin pulls out his phone, revealing Doyeon’s Instagram story, “Doyeon and Namjoon are at the mall buying swimsuits for Vegas. Go to the mall and ‘accidentally’ run into them.”

You sit up straight, tilting your head to the side. “That’s not a bad idea, actually,” you bound over to grab your jacket, giving Seokjin a big fat kiss on his cheek, “Thanks Jinnie, do you know you’re—”

“I’m your favorite cousin. Yeah whatever, bye.” He waves you off, plopping in his own chair so he can enjoy his games in peace.

“I’m driving,” Jungkook declares, swiping your keys from Seokjin’s opal dish.

“Oh, hell no,” you jump on your tippy toes to reach Jungkook’s grasp on your keys, but he’s so freakishly tall there’s no way you can reach. “I drive my car!”

“I’ve always wanted to drive your car back then,” Jungkook cooes, leaning in so your noses touch. “C’mon, you can trust me.”

“You two are gross already,” Seokjin admonishes from the other side of the room, “see, it’s working!”

Poking his cheek so he gives you some space, you whip your head to hide the flush that burns on your cheeks. “Fine, but if you crash you’re buying me a new one.”

“They’re over there,” you hiss between the racks, shuffling between the plastic hangers to point to Doyeon and Namjoon at the women’s section of the store. They look disgustingly adorable together, with Doyeon pointedly telling Namjoon which swimsuit suits his stature better while Namjoon nods along and goes with whatever she says. You crouch down lower, fearing Namjoon’s tall frame would catch you. “Now we just gotta act all couple-y and they’ll notice us. Or maybe we can walk over to them? What do you wanna do?”

“Do you think we should get matching swimsuits?” Jungkook pays no mind to your sleuthing, holding up a red pair of swim trunks to his thighs, “we could pretend to be sexy lifeguards.”

You tilt your head away from the pair, only because Jungkook has been genuinely interested in this store since you’ve arrived. Putting a hand under your chin, you scrutinize the dark red cutoff shorts. “They’re cute,” you nod appreciatively, “It’ll make your thighs look thick.”

Jungkook’s grip on his hanger lowers, and he regards you with dark eyes. “You think my thighs look thick?” he asks, leaning in and putting one hand on the curve of your waist. His fingers dance on the surface of bare skin between your top and jeans, and while you’ve agreed beforehand that you two could touch each other wherever in public, it still surprises you when gooseflesh rises to the surface.

“Easy there, tiger,” you chuckle, putting a hand on his chest to stop his sudden bout of flirting. “I’m just stating the facts, we get it. You lift.”

“You’re so cute when you try to put your guard up,” he’s brushing noses with you now, and you feel the plastic of the hanger crumple pathetically between you two as the gap closes further. “But you can’t hide from me.”

And just as his lips move to press against yours, a shrill “Jungkook!” echoes throughout the large store.

You nearly flop over the boardshorts rack if not for Jungkook’s arms secured around your waist. Oh right, you think dumbly, this is all for show. Doyeon and Namjoon are right in front of you, purchases already made and looking at you two in curiosity. Well, Namjoon is definitely curious, because you know for a fact that Doyeon speaks very little of you to him and you’ve only conversed with him a handful of times. Doyeon on the other hand, looks a little stiff in the grin.

“Hello to you too,” you remark to Doyeon, who’s barely acknowledged you. You reach over to squeeze Namjoon’s arm, “Hi Joonie,” you crinkle your eyes, and you fight back a squeal when he smiles back with dimples. Doyeon has such a cute fiancé, and if you’re keeping score he’s way too good for her.

Doyeon’s eyes glaze over to where you’ve touched Namjoon, and she links her arms with his. “What a coincidence, you two are buying swimsuits where we’re buying swimsuits.”

“Well, there’s only one mall in this town and we’re going on the same trip in two weeks,” you reply blandly, and you feel Jungkook pinch your side. “Oh, Namjoon. Have you met my boyfriend Jungkook?”

“Can’t say that I have,” Namjoon reaches over to clasp Jungkook’s hand, “nice to meet you, man.”

While Namjoon and Jungkook exchange small talk, you pointedly ignore the waves of negativity Doyeon sends your way in favor of observing the two large men. Namjoon just said it was nice to meet him, therefore he has no clue who Jungkook is. Interesting, considering Doyeon two-timed in favor of Namjoon. It gets you a little antsy, and you wonder if Namjoon is faking this whole interaction or if Doyeon is hiding something.

“Baby,” Jungkook rests a hand on your shoulder, regarding you with concern, “you spaced out there, are you okay?”

“She’s like that, Jungkookie,” Jungkook gently presses your shoulders down, blocking your view of Doyeon as she regards your not-boyfriend as Jungkookie. “My cousin’s a bit of an airhead,” her tone is sweet and jesting, the backhanded jab going right above Namjoon’s head.

“I’m just hungry,” you say, forcing a tight-lipped smile.

“Well, that’s perfect,” Namjoon clasps his hands together, “Yeonie and I were just about to go grab some dinner. Why don’t you join us?”

Doyeon and you both reply immediately, “That really isn’t necessary—”

“Nonsense,” you don’t even have the heart to be upset at Namjoon because he looks so damn genuine, “It’s been two years and I haven’t even bought you a meal, y/n. After all, we’re going to be family at the end of the month.”

“Right,” you answer reluctantly.

“We’re gonna make reservations at the Cheesecake Factory,” he pulls out his phone, ready to make a call, “but you and Jungkook can finish shopping, okay? The wait will be a little long but by the time you’re done our table should be ready.”

You and Jungkook wave off Doyeon and Namjoon as they make their way to the restaurant. Your hand is caught in the air by Jungkook, who regards you with worry in his eyes. “I wasn’t kidding when I said you looked spaced out,” he says, “tell me what you were really thinking.”

Subconsciously, you squeeze his palm for comfort. “I don’t know, it just feels weird knowing Namjoon doesn’t seem to know you at all. Normally Doyeon loves to talk shit about her exes.”

Jungkook scoffs easily, “I mean, if she’s marrying the guy I’m sure she doesn’t want to let him know the details of how they ended up together.”

“True,” you decide to let it go, and follow Jungkook to the register to pay for his swim trunks.

“So,” the little ‘ding’ of the register opens up the money box, and Jungkook quickly hands the clerk his cash, “we’re having dinner with them after this?”

“Only if you want to.”

“We need to, right?” Jungkook thanks the clerk, holding the bag in one hand and threading his fingers through yours as you head out the store.

“Well, do you want to?” you ask again. Jungkook stops the two of you on the sidewalk. It isn’t a fast stop, but a slow down that makes his walk a little more thicker, more deliberate as he trudges you down the lane. You move in front of him, clutching your hands between his. “Are you okay? You barely even acknowledged Doyeon.”

“I’m fine,” you flinch at his harsh tone, and he immediately moves to remedy it by squeezing your hand back. “I’m sorry. It’s just been awhile and I’m definitely over her but,” he bows his head, feeling embarrassed, “she hurt me, you know?”

Going into this is definitely one of the more selfish plans you’ve put your mind to. Your heart pangs thinking about what must be going through everytime he sees her. If he’s reminded about all the good times they shared, or how much he’s over thought every single conversation he’s had with her up until this point.

“Of course,” you completely understand, knowing from the beginning that this whole mess would end up with some dicey feelings someway or another. “I’m just thankful you chose to stick by me. And we can talk about it if you’re comfortable,” both of you being victims of Doyeon’s brand of torture, you hope the two of you can at least be friends after all of this is over, “we don’t have to go have dinner with them.”

“But, Namjoon got us a table—”

“Namjoon will be fine. We can always have dinner with him another time,” you smile softly, “what matters is that you’re okay.”

His gaze melts, and you feel his grip loosen in your hold. He regards you with weak eyes, betraying the confidence he held himself to moments before. “Thanks, y/n,” he says, “I really appreciate that.”

“Anytime,” you reply honestly. “We can go to Cheesecake and order to-go. I can make some excuse about how my stomach hurts and that we should do a raincheck.”

“Sounds good.”

“Do you wanna eat at one of our places or eat at the park or something?” you’re already pulling up your phone, checking out the menu. “We could invite Jin too.”

“The park sounds nice,” neither of you acknowledge the fact that you’re not inviting Seokjin, and for some reason that’s okay.

“Yeah,” you agree simply, “the weather’s beautiful.”

Under any normal circumstances, you would’ve been friends with someone like Jeon Jungkook, easily. A little part of you wishes that you could’ve met Jungkook first, but Doyeon has better connections than you and always had a good crowd around despite her inner motivations. No awkward exchange happens when you suggest to Jungkook to eat together. Even though you’re not technically dating, the two of you know that eating together is better than eating alone.

And you have to admit Jungkook’s great company. The two of you drive to a reserve nearby, overlooking a tiny lake. Instead of a fancy Italian tablecloth the two of you move your car seats down and set a spare picnic blanket in the trunk. Instead of a candlelit dinner the two of you find some emergency electric tealights in the glove compartment, lighting it up between you two as you dig into your to-go boxes.

You’re a little envious that so much time has passed by. You could’ve been a little sneakier and made a better effort to communicate with Jungkook when you saw him regularly at family parties, and maybe you two would have a better friendship today. Nevertheless, the two of you mesh like peanut butter and jelly, exchanging conversation that has your cheeks sore from smiling too hard.

By the time you get to dessert, the moon is out and the stars are floating above your heads. The two of you are at war, fighting with your forks over the last strawberry in your cheesecake slice. After some careful stabbing Jungkook manages to nab it with his fork.

He almost puts it in his mouth, but instead swipes up some whipped cream to press the last strawberry to your lips.

“I think it’s working,” Jungkook says randomly as you chew the sweet fruit, “you could see it on Doyeon’s face today. She’s unsettled.”

“Yeah,” you agree, lying down on the lavender gingham picnic blanket.

“Do you know why she fights with you all the time?”

“That’s a question I’ve been asking myself since the dawn of time.”

“I think I know why.” Jungkook looks down at you with his large doe eyes, licking innocently on a spoon of whipped cream.

“Pray tell.”

“She’s jealous of you.”

“No,” you disagree easily, “she’s jealous that I have you.”

“Bzzt! Wrong,” Jungkook puts his empty container in your makeshift trash can, falling beside you and knitting his hands under his head. You have a little window on the roof of your car, so both of you are able to stare at the navy sky, “she’s always been jealous of you. Think about it. The two of you have similar lifestyles: same career path, confidence, taste, education. But even after all of that? People still like you more.”

You scoff, hands immediately reaching to fiddle with the frayed corner of fabric next to your fingers. “I don’t think so.”

“I’ve met all of Doyeon’s friends,” he informs you, “they’re weird. Like yeah, they care about each other on the surface level. But they’re nothing of substance. They’re not like your friends.”

“Please, Doyeon has everything she could ever want,” you don’t know what kind of complex you have supporting Doyeon’s life, but something deep and insecure wants to separate you two as far away from each other as possible. “Like… she’s Malibu Barbie and I’m Polly Pocket.”

Jungkook turns to face you, resting his head between his palm and leaning on his elbow. “Do you not think you’re beautiful?”

“Yeah, but compared to Doyeon—”

“You’ve always been beautiful to me, don’t you know that?”

You choke on your saliva, feeling small and skittish at the implication behind his words. It’s been two years. You’ve only been friends for two weeks. How can he possibly say that?

“I uh, saw you once,” Jungkook coughs, and you watch the way his pale cheeks unmatch the moon and instead flit to a crimson hue, “we were at some party and you were wearing this really cute black dress with a white bow in the middle. Doesn’t even matter what party because it was random, y’know? I was gonna go talk to you but Doyeon got to me first and well, the rest is history.” He breaks eye contact with you, unable to handle it.

You remember that party, vaguely. It was random, some sort of poetry slam in a shady part of town. Doyeon and you didn’t even go with each other, you were with Taehyung and she just happened to stumble in there from another nearby party. You didn’t even know Jungkook was there that night, or how you were a hair's breadth away from meeting him before Doyeon.

“Don’t ever think you’re lesser than her just because out of all the people she chose to pick on, she chose you. It’s why she never lets you get to know her boyfriends. She’s threatened by you because you’re just as special,” something low sparks in your chest at his words, “and now that you’ve finally decided to stoop to her level and fight back with a taste of her own medicine, she doesn’t know what to do.”

Feeling like your body is on a beach and you’re sinking in sand, you soften over your picnic blanket, mulling it over. “Did I make the right choice? Stooping down to her level.” Your voice is quiet, comparable to the chirping birds and buzzing gnats outside.

“We won’t know until after the wedding,” Jungkook answers honestly, “but I do know I’m sticking with you until the end. We’re friends now, got that? You have no excuse to ignore me anymore.”

You don’t want to ignore Jungkook, never in a million years. Now you know that you are envious of Doyeon, for having an opportunity to love and care for an amazing person like him. So in a sudden bout of emotion, you roll over to straddle Jungkook’s waist.

He’s shocked, hands flying to your waist to make sure you don’t wobble off. But you’re determined, and lean down to press your lips against his. He tastes like cheesecake and strawberries, the taste melding with your own as you relish in the feeling of his soft lips against yours. You melt a little when he squeaks, breaking into a soft moan as he reciprocates the gesture. He’s warm and large and he makes you feel safe. Once your brain returns to your body, you break for air. You only pull back a few centimeters, and there’s no way for you to get off because Jungkook has locked you in place.

“What was that for?” he asks breathlessly.

“Don’t know,” you’re whispering against his lips, unable to pull away, “just felt like we needed a little more practice.”

He blinks, before relaxing in a silly smile. “I agree,” he says simply, dipping you on your back so he can be on top the second time around.

“We’re in Vegas, baby!”

Every single terrible comedy movie set in Las Vegas has brought you to this very moment. You’ve always wanted to say that line. Dumping your luggage next to Jungkook’s, you flop on the nearest mattress. Thank goodness you only wore leggings and a t-shirt on the flight, it’s the optimal sleeping outfit after a long day. Feeling something hard and plastic dig into your brain, you hold up the culprit and squeal excitedly. “Look, Kook!” you wave the crinkly confection in your hands, “they put mints on the pillows!”

Despite your room being a square with two queen beds, the hotel does not skimp on quality. The decor is ornate, the white and gold trim on the doorknobs and metal appliances shimmering beautifully. The beds feel like clouds, as you try to imagine what a cloud could possibly feel like, this is it.

Jungkook immediately follows suit, ripping off his outer clothes until he’s left in his undershirt and boxers, flopping next to you on the mattress. He immediately opens his mouth when you shoot a mint, catching it easily. “I feel like we’re in a deleted scene of Crazy Rich Asians,” he says, letting the hard mint clink around his teeth, “is this the part where you tell me your family comes from old money and I’m gonna be your sugar baby?”

“Don’t be so hopeful,” you narrow your eyes, booping his button nose with your finger.

“I’m just saying, the first class flight threw me off.”

You giggle, slapping his chest, “No. If that was true, we wouldn’t be sharing a room with my cousin. Sorry you have to share the bed with me, I got the hotel with Jin and he doesn’t want to sleep with you.”

“S’okay,” Jungkook replies softly, leaning closer to make grabby hands at you, “you’re softer.”

Tentatively, you scooch over so you can lean on Jungkook’s chest. You two have a little time before Doyeon and Namjoon’s combined bachelor and bachelorette party. The past two weeks have been nice—scratch that, the past two weeks with Jungkook have been wonderful. You never cared to measure how much time passed before meeting him, but now that you’ve begun fake-dating, time is the only thing you regard. You’re already beginning to miss him, knowing that in a week, this whole arrangement will be over.

Well, not exactly over. Jungkook says you’ll remain friends after this, but you don’t really want that. You want more, and it scares you to think he may not feel the same.

But right now you’re snuggling like an old couple, sleeping comfortably between pillow-like sheets and minty breath. Your pretend boyfriend, now your pretend boyfriend with benefits, looks soft and huggable and you want to bottle up this moment forever. You say benefits because, well, the cuddling is an added bonus. Practice practice practice, Jungkook sing songs the words you used that one night under the stars, excuses to seal his lips to your lips. You’ll never argue with that. So when Jungkook’s hand tightens around your waist and pulls you closer, you relent.

One second, you’re closing your eyes and the next, you’re waking up to Seokin’s wide eyes staring back at you.

“Eep, you creepo!” you shriek, scrambling away from him. That’s when you realize Jungkook’s missing from bed, the scent of his laundry detergent lingering between the eggshell Egyptian cotton.

“Jungkook’s in the shower,” Seokjin immediately reads your mind, pulling away so he can unpack his luggage. “My flight just got in two hours ago, you both were out like a light when I arrived.”

“Ugh, I’m really not ready to party.”

��Doyeon just texted the family group chat. She reserved the rooftop, the party starts in an hour,” he talks mindlessly, rifling through his stuff. Seokjin is fiddling with his clothes, despite the fact that you know Seokjin prepares his outfits days in advance so he doesn’t have to choose. He looks concerned, pulling out a flamingo pink boardshort and setting it down on his mattress. Finally he says, “I’m worried about you.”

“Why?”

“Because. It’s clear that you’re starting to fall for Jungkook.”

The words strike you straight in the place you’re trying to avoid. You’ve been living in a fantasy these past two weeks, thinly veiled by the whole reason you two are together in the first place. Doyeon’s wedding is just around the corner, and what then?

“I’m not saying that he doesn’t feel anything for you either,” that gets your heart skipping a beat, and you secretly hold a hand to your chest under the blankets, “but do you really want to start off a relationship like this? A relationship all messy and morally objective because it’s built on revenge?”

“Don’t worry about me,” the words easily fall from your lips, “I can take care of this.”

“I hate it when you say that,” the words are curt and harsh against Seokjin’s plush lips, “I’m allowed to worry about you, y/n. You know why? Because, because you’re my favorite cousin too,” he bites his lip, walking over so he sits on your side of the bed. “So don’t tell me what I can and can’t worry about. I want you to be happy, I want you to stop holding in this anger you have for Doyeon and move on.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, leaning over to press your cheek against Seokjin’s shoulder. “You’re right.”

“For the first time in a long time, you’ve finally decided to lean on someone,” and both of you know who that someone is. “I don’t want you to lose him over some petty family issue. You should tell him how you feel.”

“I will,” you wrap your arms around your cousin’s slim waist in a silent thanks.

“Am I interrupting a tender family moment?”

The two of you pull away to stare at Jungkook, leaning against the doorframe that leads to the bathroom. He’s in a plain white t-shirt and the red board shorts that you bought at the mall, cutting off mid-thigh and revealing the bulky muscle underneath. You were right, the shorts do make his thighs look thick.

Seokjin groans exaggeratedly. “Yes, yes you did.”

Jungkook immediately goes to replace Seokjin’s spot, and some stray droplets fall fresh from the shower due to his slicked-back hair. “Do you wanna get ready? First party’s soon.”

“Not really,” you admit, “you’re gonna meet the family all over again.”

“Second time’s the charm,” he winked, “I’ve already met your parents and everything. Not feeling nervous at all.”

“Oh, really?”

“Really,” and the facade cools down a little, “well, maybe a little nervous for your Aunt Lillian. Her stares give me the heebie-jeebies.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from Aunt Lillian.”

“God the two of you get worse every day,” Seokjin has magically changed into his shorts, tucking himself into the bed, “don’t wake me up until we pre-game.”

Doyeon and Namjoon don’t skimp on the festivities, although in taste the ideas are Doyeon’s in its entirety. It’s lavish and colorful, with a beautiful infinity pool in the middle decorated with lavender and pink headlights. There’s a buffet table overflowing with tasty food. There’s petal pink champagne overflowing from fountains, decorated with fresh strawberries bobbing around the fizzy drink.

“I don’t know,” Namjoon and Jungkook have been talking for well over an hour, and it’s clear how well they mesh together. Heck, you’ve accepted that Jungkook may like Namjoon more than he likes you. Jungkook’s eyes sparkle as Namjoon discusses the various genres of rap and hip-hop music, explaining the potency of mature themes in a young community, “but I will say music is like another language, knows no boundaries when it comes to sending their messages to others.”

You fight the urge to chuckle when Jungkook sighs dreamily at the music theory professor. “Wow, that’s so deep.”

Getting up from your cabana, you nudge Seokjin, who’s currently flirting it up with one of Doyeon’s bridesmaids. “Hey, wanna get a drink?” you ask, throwing your wrap on the cushions to reveal your strappy red bikini.

“And chicken tenders,” Seokjin presses a kiss to the bridesmaid’s cheek, bidding her goodbye as he follows you out of the shaded area.

“Do you two lovebirds want anything?” you stare pointedly at Namjoon and Jungkook. While Namjoon’s eyes stay in contact with you, you can’t help but smile a little more when Jungkook has a hard time keeping his gaze in one place.

“I think we’re fine,” Namjoon answers for both of them, swirling his beer bottle. “I’ll meet you two at the bar once I’m done.”

“Sure thing,” Seokjin puts a hand on your back to lead you to one of the open bars. As much as you like being in a handsome hotel with money to burn, nothing beats the fact that your entire family is here to celebrate. The elders have corroborated two cabanas for poker and other games, while your younger cousins are playing ping pong and air hockey on the other side.

“Namjoon sure is a dreamboat,” Seokjin bemoans, handing you an electric orange drink. You take a sip of it, and bug out when you realize it tastes nothing like alcohol. You’re definitely in for a night. “Like I can hear him wax music thingamajib any day.”

“I thought you were into that bridesmaid.”

“A mere diversion,” he sighs, leaning his tanned arms against the bar, “can’t ignore the deep voice Namjoon has, it’s intoxicating.”

“I’m sure Jungkook would agree,” you egg on.

“What are you two talking about?” you straighten up when the man of the hour shows up at the bar, absolutely glowing under the sunset. He orders a round for the three of you, and you immediately chug your own drink to get to the next one.

“Talking about how you’re stealing Jungkook away from me,” you joke, accepting another fruity drink from Namjoon. Damn, this stuff tastes like candy.

“Oh, never,” Namjoon replies brightly, waving the thought away, “do you see the way he looks at you? Hopelessly in love.”

Maybe it’s the copious amounts of alcohol, but you feel your stomach flip-flop at the thought of love. You’ve always known what love felt like, the warmth of Namjoon’s cheeks whenever he sees Doyeon, when your mom takes care of you when you’re sick, when Seokjin makes sure you’re not emotionally constipated 24/7. But the thought of Jungkook and you in love? It’s a feeling you secretly yearn for.

“Right? It’s disgusting,” Seokjin groans with an eye roll, “like, Jungkook wasn’t like that with Doyeon at all when they were together.”

The slip up has the three of you choking on your own thoughts, staring at each other like the three have just been told you’re on a prank show. But it is no prank, and you look at Seokjin who’s absolutely horrified.

“Oh shit,” he squeaks, looking at Namjoon guiltily, “did I say something I shouldn’t have said?”

“I don’t know,” Namjoon replies coolly, “did you?”

The ominous response gets you going, and you quickly place a hand on Namjoon’s arm, placating him. “They dated, yes. But it was only for a short time and we’ve sorted everything out. Nothing for you to worry about.”

“Oh,” Namjoon quirks his head, and regards you two with pursed lips. “I’m not one of those guys who freak out over other people’s exes. I’m just surprised that I’ve only heard this now,” Namjoon takes a slow sip of his drink, and despite your drink also being cold and refreshing, you’re absolutely sweating.

“Well, I’m sure Doyeon didn’t want to worry you.”

At the mention of his future wife, he beams. “You’re right, she’s considerate like that,” and the conversation ends just like that. He holds up his drink to the two of you, and you and Seokjin do the same. With a sharp clink he leaves you two to mull, happily conversing with the next round of guests he needs to entertain for the week.

“That guy is too nice for his own good,” you shake your head, asking the bartender for your third drink within ten minutes.

Seokjin leans over you and warbles, “So you’re telling me that Namjoon has no idea that Doyeon cheated on Jungkook in order to date him?” he’s sweating just like you are, following suit to your actions and asking to make his drink a double.

“I don’t know,” you bite your lip, your teeth worrying the dark skin, “I’ve been thinking about it for a while though. I just don’t want to get involved, you know?”

“But this is different!”

“But Doyeon’s family!”

“And all of a sudden you care about Doyeon’s feelings?” Seokjin gripes back, “it’s not about Doyeon, it’s about the both of them. And if we know something that Namjoon doesn’t, wouldn’t it be in our best interests to warn him before he seals a marriage deal that costs him over a zillion dollars?” he gestures to the extravagant wedding party.

“But we don’t even have any proof that’s the case,” you frown, “Doyeon could have changed—a little, not a lot—since meeting Namjoon, maybe she thinks it’s best to reveal as little as possible.”

Seokjin wonders what kind of family he has. One as chaotic as his takes a lot to stomach, and Seokjin likes to pride himself in his strong appetite. “Fine, let’s just keep a close eye on both of them this week. And if anything remotely fishy happens, we strike.”

“Deal.”

You return to the cabana alone, with a plate of fries for both you and Jungkook. Jungkook is also alone, laying on the lounge chair with his eyes closed. It gives you a chance to ogle your fake-boyfriend a little bit, reveling in the sight of his toned body.

Setting down your plate with a sharp rap of the glass, Jungkook opens one eye. “Hey,” he smiles, drinking in your muted expression, “you okay?”

Damn Jungkook for being able to read you so well. “I think so. It’s nothing, really.”

“Well, will you tell me if it’s something?”

“Yeah, I will.”

“So, I do have something to tell you though.” Jungkook sits up, regarding you wearily. “Can you… stand in front of me?” Confused, you shove a fry in your mouth and walk up to him as directed, your back blocking the entrance as you stand in front of him. “Okay, come closer. Now bend down,” you bend your back 90 degrees, and he presses a hand to your shoulder to stop you, “no, no. With your breasts out, just a little—there! Arch your back. Like you’re doing the Sorority Squat.”

“Excuse me—”

“The music isn’t even that loud,” he mutters to himself, “no one would need to push their boobs in my face to hear me.”

“Jungkook, is someone pressing boobs to your face?”

“Why,” he breaks into a playful grin, “jealous?”

“Not if it’s Aunt Lillian.”

“Unfortunately it wasn’t,” he twiddles with the drawstrings of his shorts. “It was Doyeon.”

Doyeon? She didn’t walk by your cabana all day. Heck, she barely greeted you when you arrived with Jungkook. But when Jungkook’s alone is when she decides to pounce? And with what motive?

“I don’t know,” he’s rambling to himself, “maybe I’m overthinking it. It was only half a second.”

“Jungkook, I have something to tell you,” you say instead, panic in your features.

“Is it something urgent?”

“Well, no but—”

“Then tell me when we get back to the room,” Jungkook easily pulls you onto his lap, and you instantly heat up when you feel your bare butt press against Jungkook’s golden thighs. “Like you said, we’re in Vegas. Let’s have fun while we can.”

“Okay,” you tuck your head between his neck and collarbone, reaching to press a kiss to his smooth jawline.

Relaxing against the plush lounge chair Jungkook feeds you fries while talking about the things he wants to do this week. It’s his first time in Vegas and he wants to make the most of it. He wants to visit all the buffets he sees on Buzzfeed compilations, relax at the pool, maybe catch a show. The thought of spending all week with him and your family is nice, and suddenly you don’t feel so awkward sitting on his lap, and eventually he pulls you between his thighs so you can lay on his chest.

“And between you and me,” he fake whispers against the shell of your ear, as if he’s telling you the biggest secret, “we’re the hottest couple here.”

The next three days leading up to the wedding are relatively uninteresting.

Uninteresting in the best way possible. On Monday you and Jungkook spend time with your little cousins, taking them to The Adventuredome, one of the resort's indoor theme parks. On Tuesday you and Jungkook go shopping at the outlet malls with your parents, blowing hundreds of dollars on cheap Levis that have your luggage bursting with a new wardrobe. In between all of that Seokjin and occasionally Namjoon joins you two in your buffet journey, hitting up the top spots and filling your tummies to the brim with delicious food.

On Wednesday, Jungkook brandishes two gold-foiled tickets in front of you, waving them around like a fan. With one finger, he pushes away your Pokémon battle, “I got us tickets to Cirque du Soleil,” he announces proudly, “waited in line for an hour.”

You gape, scrambling off of your bed and throwing your Nintendo Switch to the side. “Jungkook,” you marvel, “these are so expensive. How’d you manage to get a show for tonight?”

He shrugs, “Looked around.”

“You’ve been impulse buying a lot this week,” you tease, “like really, you don’t need three pairs of the same ripped jeans.”

“This wasn’t an impulse buy,” he says, “I’ve been looking around for shows. Just managed to pick them up today, so go get dressed for our date.”

Did Jungkook just call it a date? Giddy with excitement you throw the covers off, running into the bathroom to get ready. What a surprise, you didn’t think Jungkook would be into spontaneous things like this.

Seokjin left the bathroom open, so when you walk in the room it is steamy and warm. Your dear cousin is still in the shower, probably waiting for his conditioner to pass three minutes of set-in time.

“What are you getting ready for?” Seokjin asks over the rain shower.

“Kook got us tickets to Cirque du Soleil,” you chirp happily, looking through your skin care products.

“I wanna come!”

“Nope! Jungkook called it a date.”

“Oh, a date,” Seokjin drawls, putting his head under the water to rinse his hair clean. “Well then, should I vacate the room for tonight?”

“What, no!” you’ve closed the door, so thankfully Jungkook can’t hear you talking about him. “We’re not doing anything. We’re just two friends who are fake-dating going on a date.”

“Sounds like a real date, though,” Seokjin wraps a towel around himself to cover all his important bits before getting out of the shower, bumping elbows with you so he can brush his teeth. “Either way, I’ll be gone tonight. It’s my turn to watch the baby cousins. Don’t have too much fun while I'm in their room watching Despicable Me for the millionth time.”

“We’ll be sure to stop by with some pizza or something,” you tease, a little wiggle in your hips when you vacate the bathroom.

By the time you and Jungkook are ready, you two are dressed impeccably. Jungkook is wearing one of the ripped black jeans he bought on Tuesday, combined with a white button up and black blazer. A classic outfit with a little bit of Jungkook-themed flair. And to Jungkook’s surprise, you’re wearing the dress that he first saw you in, all those years ago. You’ve gained a little weight since college, but you still fill out the little black dress beautifully, the little white bow in the middle adding a simple yet adorable touch. It took a little sleuthing and searching through your old college clothes, but you were determined to find it when Jungkook reminded you how much you love the design.

Clearly from the way Jungkook is currently gaping at you like a bloated fish, he loves it too.

The show is beautiful and colorful, leaving you speechless and in tears by the end of it. Jungkook lets you hold his hand the entire time, feeling a bout of anxiety anytime the acrobats fall gracefully despite the large height.

Overall, it was a wonderful show, paired with your equally enamouring date. It’s getting harder and harder to distinguish what’s fake and what’s real in your heart, and throughout the night you’re sorely reminded that you should tell Jungkook how you feel.

But by the time you get to the room your parents are calling you, asking to get their suit and dresses out of the car so hotel service can do a last minute press and dry clean.

“I’ll be back,” you say to Jungkook, “I need to go get their clothes out of the car. They’re always so forgetful.”

“Want me to come?” he offers, hand shying away from inserting the keycard in.

“No, I’ll only be fifteen minutes, tops.”

“So I guess this is this the part where I get a goodnight kiss?” he asks cheekily, leaning on his heels so his tall frame reaches yours. You don’t hesitate to give a short peck to his pretty pink lips. He pouts at the brevity, “that was too quick.”

“Go inside,” you insist, “the sooner you get ready for bed the sooner I can get ready for bed.”

“Then more kisses?”

“Then more kisses.”

Jungkook breaks into an all-teeth smile, unable to control himself when he dips down and steals a longer, more lingering kiss to your lips. “I had a great time tonight,” he says, mimicking every single teenage rom-com protagonist who’s deeply in love with the popular jock. “Don’t take too long, okay?”

You nod, pushing him inside, “C’mon, if you stopped talking I’d be back by now!”

Once the door closes shut, you let yourself do a little dance in the hallway, wiggling your butt and giving yourself a mini-celebration. You quickly text your group chat that you just came back from the Cirque show.

Jimin: what, a date with your fake date?

Hobi: jeon jungcock? 👀👀

Jimin: whaaaaaattttt. U’ve gotta have sat in his lap at least. 3 times since you’ve started this ting

Hobi: i’ve heard things in college…

Taehyung: u are all gross and i hate u

Taehyung: but so am i bc im very curious

Just as you’re about to send a heated reply, the elevator dings, revealing a pissed off Doyeon. She’s bare-faced, in a fluffy lilac bath robe and matching puff ball slippers. You slip in right beside her, making sure there’s a comfortable amount of space between you two.

“You’re going to the parking garage too?” you ask, eyes lingering on the lit button.

“Yeah,” she’s looking at her phone, a few stray hairs from her mahogany bun falling onto her forehead, “Aunt Lillian left her medication in the car. I don’t know why she has to send me, I’m busy getting married.”

“My parents left their formal clothes in the car,” you shrug, “you know, my parents and Aunt Lillian share the same brain cell. Gotta help them out once in a while.”

The icy silence in the elevator is probably the calmest you and Doyeon have been since you’ve announced your relationship status with Jungkook. You fight the sigh, opting to take out your phone and open some unread messages.

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: hurry up, the bed’s cold without u

You: lool, why do u look constipated

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: because i am, hurry up. Im bringing ur switch to the toilet and playing on your profile

You: JEON WAIT YAMPERS AT 5HP GO TO THE POKEMON CENTER U HEATHEN

You tilt your head a centimeter, feeling Doyeon breathing down your neck like Puff the Magic Dragon. You look at her with wide eyes. Her long, slender neck manages to snake its way next to your head, “Can I help you?” you ask amusedly, clutching your phone to your chest.

“Are you two really together?” she asks, batting her lashes. All this week she’s left you alone, and you’ve been wondering when she’s going to make herself known. It’s a little self-absorbed you have to admit, but ever since Namjoon’s ignorance to Doyeon’s previous relationship, you’ve been on edge.

“Of course we are,” you spit back, “I love him.”

And you must be very convincing, because Doyeon’s gaze falters just a fraction. You glare at her, staking your claim. Ever since Jungkook told you the reason Doyeon hates you is because she’s jealous, you’ve started to feel a bit of sympathy for her. Doyeon is beautiful and smart, she has no reason to feel this way. But the brain holds fickle thoughts sometimes, bringing darkness to the mind.

“He loved me first,” she bites back, lifting her chin.

“And why do you care?” you laugh tonelessly. The elevator dings open, and you’re met with the open air and concrete of the parking garage. “He may have loved you first, but he’ll love me last.”

You leave the elevator first, a little pep in your step as you make your way to the rental car to gather your parent’s things. While the words you uttered are white in nature and may not hold any sort of weight to them, it manages to bring Doyeon to her knees, absolutely quaking in the elevator.

You’re tasting revenge, and it’s sweet.

“Okay, you need to leave,” Seokjin pulls away the shot glass from your lips, “I didn’t spend days planning the itinerary for you to mess it up. Bridal party in Doyeon’s suite and the groom’s party in Namjoon’s parents suite.”

“That’s dumb,” you chastise, crossing your arms, “we’re all meeting at the same club at 10. Why can’t we pre-party together?”

“Because it’s tradition!”

“Screw tradition,” you stumble on your heels as you purse your lips at Jungkook, “Kook, when we get married I don’t wanna do a whole boy-and-girl party. We’re equals, right?”

“Of course, baby,” he cooes, being careful not to smudge your makeup when he presses his lips to the crown of your head. “But for the sake of Seokjin’s sanity, you should probably go to Doyeon’s. It’ll only be an hour or two.”

You gasp exaggeratedly at the blatant betrayal. He only grins cheekily in response, dipping down to press a wet kiss to your cheek. “Fine,” you cross your arms, snatching back your drink from Seokjin’s grasp to knock it down.

Leaving the bachelor pre-party pains you considerably. They’re having such a good time joking around the suite, telling each other fun stories and relaxing in chairs as they watch TV. This is your kind of crowd, not to mention that you can peacefully check out Jungkook’s ass in those tight dress pants without any crazy club lights distorting your vision.

From past family party experience you already have a feeling what’s coming for you in the ladies’ suite.

Loud music pours from Doyeon’s suite, and it’s completely unlocked. The bridal party is raving, ten seconds away from being completely drunk and immobile. The lights are being manually shut on and off like some sort of cheap rager, and you have to tell Yoojung to tone it down before you get a seizure.

The stench of acidic drinks and the tang of alcoholic air is palpable, and instead of a shot you opt for a glass of peach champagne to slow you down.

As you walk deeper into the suite, you notice a crowd forming by the balcony. Tapping your cousin Nari on the shoulder, you regard her with a hug and kiss. “What’s going on over there?” you ask, heels not helping you see any better.

Nari’s all blushy and pink, hiccuping as she gestures to the balcony. “Her maid of honor got Doyeon a very special gift!”

Managing to weave through the women blocking your view, you fight the urge to gag when you have a clear view of the scene in front of you.

You really don’t understand the purpose of bachelor and bachelorette parties. “One night to be single all over again!” they all say, even though they’re not actually single? Like why does the couple suddenly get one night of forgiveness when you’ve already spent years being in a committed relationship?

Why is it okay that Doyeon’s dry humping a stripper on the balcony? Her white silk dress is ruched dangerously high, soon close to flashing her family. Aunties and friends and the like are cheering her on, and she flips her head perfectly to all the phones shoved in their faces, making sure to get the perfect angle.

Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you turn back in the hopes that your other family members would be willing to have a good old-fashioned tip back with you.

You squeal when your hands accidentally land on a bare, oiled chest. You look up, mortified at the large man covered in black harnesses. “Hey babe, I’m Wonho,” he says, faking a sultry gaze as he looks at you up and down, “you’re part of the bridal party too? Wanna dance?”

Feeling naked, you push past him, careful not to get anything on your dress. Wonho? Wonno.

Jungkook loves your family.

(Except Doyeon.)

As much as he told you not to worry about him, and he’ll be completely fine when he meets your family, he couldn’t help be a little wary on the flight over. After all, it’s been two years and he didn’t know how things would be different.

Chaoticism and all, your family is a thing to be cherished. Even though Yoongi has been on mood swings that make Jungkook question his sanity from time to time, and Seokjin is secretly breathing down Jungkook’s back every time he so glances at you, he thinks things are right where they should be.

But despite all that they regarded him with familiarity, hugged and kissed him like old friends, something is different. They’ve turned over a new page for him. They don’t bring up Doyeon. They ask about his family, his job, his life in the city. They ask about how you and Jungkook met, and how happy they are for you. How happy they are for him.

Oh, how he wishes everything could be different. In another world, you two would already be together.

He wasn’t lying back at the cabana when he said you two are the hottest couple at the resort, including the bridal party (but don’t tell Namjoon). You look absolutely stunning in your sparkly red dress, accentuating all the right parts and lighting up the whole room.

When he finds you in the club you’re sitting down with your Aunties, keeping the elders company while the younger ones are flagging down the bartenders. He thinks it’s cute, how well you fit in between them, coddling you like you’re still a child in their eyes.

“Dear, your boyfriend is here!” your one Aunt yells over the loud EDM.

You lift your head up quickly, giving him the prettiest smile. Your teeth glow purple under the neon lights, and he fights the urge to laugh when he holds out a hand. “Mind if I steal her from you?”

“Of course, she’s gotta live a little!”

You pout, a little wobbly but nevertheless still in the right mind as you shuffle out of the booth to meet his awaiting arms. “Hey handsome,” your voice is thick and sweet-smelling, “come here often?”

“Only when my girlfriend does,” he replies cheekily, hands immediately coming to your butt to smooth out your dress. He shys a bit when your Aunties hoot and holler at his public display of affection, but all he wants to do was pull the hem down a little bit. No way is he going to let anyone get a flash of your goods.

“Let’s dance!” you take your hand in his, leading him to a comfortable corner of the dance floor.

Clubs aren’t really your scene, aligning with Jungkook’s sentiments towards the loud generic music and terrible smell. But you’re in Vegas, and he feels that it’s all part of the package to experience the nightlife at least once. He puts his hands on your waist and you giggle like you’re in prom, hands coming to rest on the collar of his button down.

“Hey,” he says with a lopsided smirk, “wanna make out?”

“Sure,” he notices that you don’t even check if anyone’s seeing, and it makes his heart flutter when you don’t hesitate to get on your tiptoes to meet him halfway.

He’s always hoped for a moment like this, a moment where the room stops spinning and both your minds click into place. It’s almost comical, how he distinctly notes that the music fades once his lips touch yours. The kiss is hot, yet intimate. Even though he makes excuses to kiss you all the time because of practice, it goes to show that you two definitely never needed it. Your tiny hands grip the collar of his button down, bringing you two impossibly close despite the hot air. His larger hands grip at the strings that hold your measly dress together, grappling at any excuse to get to your soft skin. The two of you are a natural when it comes to each other’s intimacy.

The two of you pull away, mesmerized. You haven’t kissed like that before. He melts under your stare, his thumb reaching to nick off any lip gloss that’s moved in the process.

Seokjin comes down the floor to haul you both by the shoulders, “C’mon lovebirds, they’re taking wedding shots!”

The two of you follow your cousin to the crowd of people that is your family, already with their own drinks in hand. Doyeon and Namjoon are sitting atop the bar, making a very loud toast that consisted of a quick “thank you!” and “we love you!” before downing their drinks with their arms linked together. The room is thrumming with excitement for tomorrow’s festivities, and surprisingly, you and Jungkook included. He tucks himself in your body like a puzzle piece, hugging you from behind while he watches Namjoon’s eyes sparkle with love under the neons.

The nightclub gets a little blurry after that, with the copious amounts of alcohol and shameless actions from your family and friends. By the time it’s twelve Jungkook notices you swaying at a rate that you can’t handle. He knows your limits and knows when you have to urge to pee every five minutes, it’s time to go. With a chaste kiss you leave him at the bar, deciding to make a pitstop to the bathroom before telling Jungkook you want to head up.

You’re locked in a stall when you hear Yoojung’s voice.

“Ugh,” she groans, voice echoing through the tiny room. “Jungkook is so sexy. Do you see the way he’s dancing out there? He’s a literal babe magnet, I can’t believe he ended up with someone like y/n.”

You don’t move a muscle, pressing your ear against the door that hides you. The silly slander isn’t news to you, Doyeon has been feeding her friends all sorts of bullcrap so they wouldn’t bother talking to you.

“Yeah, Jungkook’s a real treat but he dated Doyeon first. Sounds like she’s into sloppy seconds,” Elly replies, another bridesmaid you’ve met in passing. “But I don’t know, they do look happy together.”

“Please, I’m sure Jungkook’s just using her so he can get one more chance at Doyeon before she ties the knot,” you bristle, the thought of Jungkook still having feelings for Doyeon makes your heart thud painfully against your chest, “like, what a downgrade. Namjoon and Doyeon do not deserve this drama. If Jungkook ever liked Doyeon at all, he wouldn’t have come. Period.”

You slam the door open, causing Elly to squeal and Yoojung’s YSL lipstick to fall onto the sink. You’re the epitome of relaxation, walking towards the sink to wash your hands. The bridesmaids simply stare at you, unable to formulate a comeback. When you finally dry your hands, you say your next words.

“Jungkook is here because he loves me,” an act act act. This is all an act. You shouldn’t be this offended because you know it’s all false. “And you’re wrong. It’s not Jungkook that doesn’t deserve Doyeon. Jungkook was too good for Doyeon.”

And you slam your heels against the tile, stilettos pounding to the beat of the music. Your exit is full of anger and frustration as you ignore the burn in your step and the ache in your heart, flagging the first bartender you see to get you a double.

Shot for shot, that anger soon melts into guilt as Yoojung’s words sink in. The thought of Jungkook using you to get to Doyeon is terrible, you can barely stomach the thought. But that’s exactly what you’re doing, right? You’re using Jungkook to get back at Doyeon.

Why did you even want to get back at Doyeon anymore? Why do you have to prove anything to her? If she just continues to push you around, isn’t that more on her than it is on you?

Jungkook soon finds you after you’ve nursed a few drinks, leaning unceremoniously against a barstool. His eyes widen at your state, and he immediately sheds his jacket to wrap it around your waist.

“Why did you drink so much?” he chastises, “it’s the night before the wedding.”

“Jungkookie,” you warble, clutching your stomach, “I don’t feel so good.”

He sighs, bending down. “Get on my back. Make sure the jacket covers you up, okay?”

He doesn’t even grunt when you put all your weight on him, feeling like a ragdoll as he hoists you up. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, letting him carry you to your room. Most of the older family already went upstairs to sleep, so none of your cousins could care less when they see you get hauled away by Jungkook.

You inhale, he smells like sweat and cologne. “I like putting my head between your neck,” you babble, and you feel Jungkook chuckle through his chest, “you smell so nice there. It’s the bestset! Comfiest place ever, ‘specially when m’sleepy.”

“Are you sleepy now, baby?” You love how smooth the petname falls from his lips.

“I will be when we get upstairs,” you reply, happy to see the elevator is empty. “I’m just all up in my head.”

“Is that why you were drinking so much? You said you were gonna stop earlier.”

“Yeah, but,” you shamefully tuck your head in his shoulder, “I was frustrated.”

“Frustrated? At who?” concern laces his tone as he struggles to hold you with one hand and fumble for his key in the other. You tighten your legs around his slim waist until the door clicks open, and he immediately walks over to your bed to plop you down. “Babe, are you crying?” he finally has a good look at your face, horrified to see the streaks of tears mixed with mascara running down your face.

“I wa-was jealous,” you confess tearily, clutching your face in your hands, “some girls in the bathroom were calling you sexy and that you were only here so you could try to win over Doyeon. I know it sounds ridiculous and you would never do that but. The thought of you getting back with her makes me so jealous and I hate it! I’m starting to feel so guilty about this, all of this. I put all of this on ourselves and I’m ruining it.”

“Ruining what? You’re not making any sense.” Jungkook places a hand on your knee, crouching down so he can look up at you.

“I’m ruining us,” you gush despondently, “I’m ruining any potential of us before we even start.”

Jungkook freezes, hand clutching your knee like a lifeline. The potential of you two together? You’ve thought of that? Jungkook didn’t drink much tonight, so his mind is definitely running on all cogs.

Coming to a conclusion, he rubs slow, soothing circles on your knee, his other hand reaching up to wipe the tears from your face. “You’re not ruining anything,” he declares firmly, “that’s impossible. I may have agreed to fake-date you because of Doyeon, but I stayed because of you.”

His heart aches seeing you so upset, and he decides to take initiative to get you out of your clothing and ready for bed. You don’t have any words, opting to let Jungkook take care of you as you try to calm yourself down. He finds a spare t-shirt, a long one so you’ll be comfortable. He doesn’t bat an eye when he unzips your dress, in favor of balling up the shirt and getting you clothed as fast as possible. He rifles through the bathroom to find your makeup wipes, and he’s gentle when he scrubs up the once pretty makeup you spent half an hour doing. Barefaced and fresh, you look sleepy and ready to crash.

But before Jungkook can tuck you in, you clutch his arm.

“Jungkook,” you murmur sleepily, “I think I lo—”

“I know, baby,” he doesn’t want a confession like this, and he’s sure you wouldn’t want it either. You still look a little green and you’re not sober, so he makes the executive decision to pin these feelings for later. “I’m not trying to invalidate you, I promise. I want you to tell me this, all of this in the morning. We’ll talk then.”

“Okay,” you melt in the sheets, pulling the blankets up to your chest. When you see Jungkook move away from the bed, you jolt, “Where are you going?”

Jungkook smiles, reaching over to tuck you back in, “I left my blazer in Namjoon’s room. I’ll be right back, okay?”

He walks out of your room as quietly as he can, making sure to close the door slowly. Once it’s sealed shut, he leaps up, giving himself a silent cheer as he bounds down the hall. You like him back!

The smile on his face is tired but full of fervor as he makes his way to Namjoon and Doyeon’s suite. He doesn’t even care that he probably has to talk to Doyeon to get his jacket back, thoughts filled with the excitement of his requited feelings and going back to his room to cuddle up with you.

He doesn’t even have to knock when the large double doors swing open. Dumbfounded, he looks down at Doyeon, wearing a tiny black nightie and dangling his jacket with one finger. It’s an outfit that leaves nothing to the imagination, and he feels his neck heat up at the feeling he’s encroaching on an intimate moment.

“You left this,” she says slowly, a tiny smirk on her lips.

“Uh, thanks,” he says, making sure not to touch her when he grabs his blazer.

In her other hand she holds up her room’s designated ice bucket. “Could you also get me some ice, please? Namjoon’s fast asleep and I really don’t want to walk out all… exposed.”

He swallows his sigh, knowing it’s going to take significantly longer to get back to you when Doyeon drawls like this. “Of course,” he replies tersely, “after all, you are the bride.”

“Thanks, Jungkookie.”

He makes quick work of getting Doyeon the ice, pumping his long legs down the hall. The ice room is cold and cramped, barely enough for his tall frame to fit in. He jabs the container in the holder, pressing the button ten times per second to get as much ice out as possible.

As soon as he turns around with the ice, he drops the whole bucket.

Like glass, it shatters onto the ground, hundreds of little clear pebbles skimming across the floor like marbles. Doyeon’s pushing Jungkook against the ice machine, freshly manicured hands splayed across his chest. Her body is flush against his, making sure that he feels all of her with her thin silk gown.

“What the fuck, Doyeon get off of me!” a little part of him hopes she’ll come to her senses on her own so he doesn’t have to put his hands on her.

“C’mon, Kookie,” her voice is a sickly candy sweet, her eyes wide with hunger as she takes in his form, “just one more night, you and me. Like old times. One more night before I tie the knot.”

“You’re crazy,” he balks, running his hand through his hair, “this is sexual harassment, do you know that?”

“You don’t mean that, Kookie,” Doyeon dips a red-tipped nail down his chest, “why settle for someone like y/n when I’m right here?”

He grabs her wrists, firm. She winces at the contact, but doesn’t say anything when Jungkook delivers her a scary glare. It gets her quiet, fearful of this version of Jungkook. Doyeon’s never seen Jungkook like this before, so unwilling to bend at her whim and emanating all his power against her.

“Why settle for your cousin?” he whispers like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “because, I love her.”

Her lip curls in disgust, nails digging into the palm of his hand. “But you loved me first.”

“And I’ll love her last,” he spits pack, letting go of her. His anger splits for a brief second, regarding Doyeon with sorrow, “this is low, even for you.”

Jungkook pushes past the ice, wobbling out of the ice room. He doesn’t look back, he just knows that he needs you right now. He needs to tell you everything, figure out a plan to cancel the wedding or something.

But when he crashes inside the room, you’re dead asleep. He can’t find the courage to wake up Seokjin as well, who returned and is sleeping in his club outfit. He groans, feeling useless as he stares at the two of you, ignorant of what just conspired ten minutes ago.

And Namjoon, what is he going to tell Namjoon? Poor guy doesn’t deserve any of this.

Walking up to your side of the bed, he tucks your loose hair behind your ear. You look so peaceful now, so beautiful.

It’s just going to have to wait until the morning.

The morning of the wedding, you wake up alone.

The first thought that runs through your head is that Jungkook has rejected you. The little, insecure bug that will never go away in your brain fills you with rash thoughts. He’s on a flight half way back home and he regrets this whole week.

But after that exaggeration, you notice two aspirin and a bottle of water on your nightstand, along with your phone that’s fully charged.

You pull up the screen to check the dozens of messages that flood your app.

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: morning babe, im sorry i had to leave early. Namjoon showed up at our door freaking out that his suit is the wrong fit and shade. Now im running around vegas trying to find a replacement that doesn’t look like an elvis presley extra

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: but i didn’t forget what you said last night, i promise! Just go get ready and i’ll meet u at the chapel outside the resort.

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: i also have something to say to you

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: wow i didn’t realize how ominous that sounds. Dw, everything will be fine

When someone tells you something will be fine, it’s a universal agreement that no, things will not be fine.

So you get dressed, and put on your makeup mindlessly. You don’t really know what to make of Jungkook’s cryptic message, but you decide to leave those thoughts in the back of your mind as you go to the other rooms to help your family get ready.

Seokjin is busy tying the ring bearer’s tie, looking handsome with his slicked back hair and polished grey suit. “Morning, cousin,” he sing-songs, “you look beautiful today!”

You smooth out your dress, a cascading silver number with starry sparkles. You feel like you’re living out your magical girl fantasies, wrapped up in layers of tulle and a sparkly sweetheart bodice.

“Right back at you. Say, you didn’t see Jungkook this morning, did you?”

“No, but I heard he’s with Namjoon hunting for a new suit. Why?”

“Nothing,” you lean against the guest table, “he just said something really ominous over text.”

“I will never get a peaceful day so long as I’m in this family,” he says this directly to the ring bearer, a toddler who’s obviously confused at his uncle’s weird sayings.

Your phone beeps conveniently, displaying Jungkook’s name.

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: just got his suit. We’ll be there in fifteen. Meet me at the garden behind the chapel, please. It’s urgent

Now you’re just worried. So you tell Seokjin your sentiments, and that he should have his phone on hand in case you needed him. With a confused nod, you leave him to go down to the garden.

The groomsmen and bridesmaids are already at the chapel taking pictures. Only the wedding party is really allowed at this time, but you manage your way through the gardens virtually undetected. Jungkook’s already waiting for you, hiding under a white gazebo overlooking the hotel’s fountain.

He looks gorgeous in his all black pinstripe suit, hair pushed back and pants fitted perfectly around his waist and thighs. When he sees you he gets up, full of skittish energy. You note that his hair isn’t even styled, only washed and curling slightly at the ends, as if he’s in a rush.

“W-wow,” he marvels when you rush up to him, “you look gorgeous.”

You drop the handful of silver tulle, letting it fall to the floor. “Jungkook,” you clasp his hand in both of his, guilt flooding your eyes. You’ve been thinking about this all morning, and you need to cut to the chase. Jungkook tries to open his mouth but you silence him with a finger on his lips. “I can’t—I can’t do this. I know this sounds really stupid and you probably don’t want anything to do with me after this, but I shouldn’t have made this elaborate scheme,” you bite your lip, feeling even more antsy as Jungkook squirms in his grip. He however, is trying very hard to focus with his eyes, confused at your sudden confession. “I like you, Jungkook. I don’t want to parade you around like a revenge plot anymore, it isn’t fair and it’s wrong in so many ways—”

“That’s great,” he says simply, brown eyes swirling with thoughts, “um, ditto. But—”

“Wow,” you frown, “I pour my heart out to you and this is what I get?”

“It’s great that you want to be selfless right now,” Jungkook takes your hand, firm and tight, “but without this elaborate scheme, we wouldn’t be saving asses like we are right now.”

“What are you talking about?” You thought Jungkook rushed you down here so you could talk about each other’s feelings before the wedding.

“Doyeon just threw herself on me last night. I got her ice and she took that as an invitation to seduce me like an episode of Sex and the City. Namjoon needs to divorce her, like yesterday.”

Your face then morphs into something dark and ugly, and you fling your whole confession out the window. The thought of Doyeon going as far as throwing herself on Jungkook as a last ditch attempt to get back at you, has you seeing blood red. “What? Why didn’t you tell me this sooner!”

“You were asleep!” he shoots back, putting his hands on your shoulders. He rubs warm strokes up and down your bare arms, “please relax. You’re shaking.”

“And why didn’t you tell Namjoon when you were driving around all morning?”

“I tried to!” he retorts, hands swinging in the air. You huff when his hands land back on your shoulders, preventing you from running to the chapel to extract Doyeon out yourself, “but he just kept talking shit about how much he loves Doyeon and he can’t imagine being together with anyone but her and I felt so bad! I’m sorry I chickened out. I really don’t wanna be the one to break Namjoon’s heart. I’m just the plus one!”

You pinch your brows, mulling it over. “Fuck it, let’s crash a wedding,” you declare, “where’s Namjoon and how can we get him alone?”

Jungkook exhales, a hand carding up to loosen his thin silver tie. “He’s taking pictures with the groomsmen right now. It’s gonna be awhile before we get a chance to talk.”

“Fuck,” you curse, sitting down on the white bench. Jungkook presses soothing circles on your back. “We have no choice, we have to get to him before the ceremony starts.”

“You’ll have to get through me, first.”

Doyeon’s not even in her wedding dress when she strides up to the two of you. She’s in ballet flats with her hair and makeup done, but the only thing she’s wearing is the thin underdress of her actual ball gown, a simple silk negligee that reaches her ankles. You don’t even know how she’s managed to escape the bridal party, especially without her dress.

Feeling protective, you step in front of Jungkook. “Before you say anything,” you murmur, “I’m not ruining your wedding, and I never wanted to. You’re ruining it because of your mistakes.”

“Oh, boo-hoo,” Doyeon rolls her eyes, playing with her nails, “I didn’t even do anything wrong, everyone knows that on the bachelorette’s night she can do whatever she wants. Namjoon could’ve fucked whoever too if he wasn’t so faithful.”

“Namjoon is ten times the partner you are and would never do that,” You’re seeing red, unable to comprehend the complete garbage spilling from Doyeon’s lips. “You touched my boyfriend without his consent, and I will never forgive you for that,” your voice is scarlet, angry and thin.

“It’s not like he isn’t used to it, I—”

“NO!” the sound that comes out of your mouth has all three of you flinching, and you’re thankful the gazebo is far enough so that the rest of the wedding party is oblivious to your actions. “You’re not allowed to justify yourself anymore, Doyeon. What you did was fucked up, what you’ve done to all of us is fucked up!” You realize now that you didn’t need to get back at Doyeon with a fake date, what you needed was this. You needed a reprieve, a chance to lay down your law. “Jungkook was right all along. You are jealous. You’re jealous and selfish and have no shame. You think you own whatever you set your eyes on, but you’re wrong. We’re not objects, we’re people.”

You walk up to Doyeon, eye to eye. You jab a hand at her chest, pushing her back slightly. You soak up your cousin’s expression, and you watch as Doyeon’s eyes pop out in surprise at your act of boldness. “So you have a choice here. You can either swallow your pride and leave Namjoon at the aisle quietly and save whatever dignity you have left. Take your pathetic ass on the next flight back home and pack up your apartment. Or, we can start a big scene at your ceremony,” you probably look manic, filled with freshly injected power, “I know Seokin’s always wanted to yell ‘I object!’ at a wedding.”

“You have no proof,” Doyeon glares right back, taking a step closer to you. Your noses are practically touching, but you dig your heels in the white-stained wood, puffing up your chest and standing your ground.

“Doesn’t matter,” you bite back, “what matters is that Namjoon will doubt you. Namjoon knows we’d never do anything to sabotage a wedding without a valid reason. Even if you do get married tonight, we have Jungkook’s word and proof of a relationship that overlaps with his. I find this option to be far worse because it’s prolonging the inevitable,” you shrug, “I hope you two didn’t sign a prenup.”

Hot, angry tears mess up her meticulously done makeup. Black rivers carve through her porcelain skin, showing the feelings that have been dormant since been hidden under a facade. Doyeon’s eyes dart back and forth between the two of you. She’s practically vibrating in combined fear and rage, seeing blurry images and memories and regrets of what could’ve been if not for her self-absorption. And finally, your cousin comes to a decision.

“I hate you,” she emphasizes each word with the most concentrated of venoms in her tone. WIth one last look at the two of you, she stomps away. Instead of going to the direction of the chapel however, she takes the shortcut back to the hotel.

Her grave words are unsurprising, but nevertheless disappointing. A thinly veiled smile grazes your lips, sadder than ever as you watch your cousin go. “And I pity you.”

As soon as she’s gone Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to scoop you up, hugging you tightly as you fight the urge to cry again. “Oh babe, that was really hot. The way you stood your ground? That was amazing!” Jungkook takes out his silver pocket square to wipe the stray tears that threaten to ruin your makeup. “You’re so strong, don’t you know that? You did it and I’m so proud of you.”

As much as you want to revel in the affection, go back and bed and fall asleep until noon, you can’t. Grasping Jungkook by the hand, you tug him to the chapel. “C’mon,” you say, “we have to corner Namjoon.”

The groomsmen photos are done by the time you get there. Thankfully, the to-be-groom doesn’t look too occupied. His eyes widen upon seeing you two stumble from the garden of all places.

“Oh, y/n. Jungkook,” Namjoon tilts his head curiously at how winded you two look, equally flushed and out of breath. From your state, Namjoon muses that it must've taken a lot of effort to finally get to the groom unattended, save for a few random family members he’s making small talk with, “The wedding isn’t for another hour but I must say, you two look radiant together. Doyeon always thought you’d end up an old spinster-catlady, but I always told her that you’re too beautiful to be single for long,” he pauses to send the aforementioned man a wink, “Jungkook’s a lucky guy. What were you two doing back there?”

“Uh, things?” Jungkook scratches the back of his head, not wanting to reiterate the fiasco between Doyeon moments before.

Namjoon smirks at the ebony-haired man, “Couple things?”

You can’t take this needless small talk anymore. With a teary groan, you throw yourself at Namjoon. You hug him tight, and you don’t even care when you feel a slosh of his water bottle sprinkle your hairstyle.

“Joonie,” you bemoan, “please, please don’t leave me. You’re the best not-cousin ever. I know it’ll be a pain to face Doyeon after today but you’re a strong independent man and when you’re ready Jin is single and ready to mingle—ow! Jungkook! Did you just pinch my ass?”

“Do you really think setting him up with the next cousin is the best idea right now?”

“I figured a little humor would lighten the blow,” you sulk.

“I’m sorry what—what blow?” Namjoon frowns, pushing you away from him. “Y/n, have you been crying?”

The tears resurface at that moment, like a kettle on overboil. Namjoon’s face is knitted together, unable to grasp at any conclusion. Namjoon feels something grave is upon the sky as he tenderly brushes away your tears with his thumbs before releasing you. Instantly Jungkook pulls you to his chest, patting you soothingly. As much as you two do not want to be the bearer of bad news, the time is now.

“Namjoon,” Jungkook says, finding the strength that was previously stuck in his throat, “we have to tell you something.”

Needless to say, Las Vegas is very forgiving when it comes to last minute wedding cancellations.

The whole wedding party, both Namjoon and yours, collectively feels like a whole ice bucket has been dumped upon your families. You would like to say that the whole issue was handled mess free, but that would be a bald-faced lie.

There was screaming, crying, hysterical laughter from all sides. Doyeon’s parents were of course furious, embarrassed, unable to calm down a hysterical Doyeon as they haul her on the next flight home. You have a feeling they won’t be showing up to family events anytime soon.

Namjoon’s family leaves quietly, frustrated, but classy. After all, they know at the back of their heads they dodged a bullet. Everyone leaves except Namjoon however, who isn’t quite ready to go back to his and Doyeon’s apartment. Namjoon invites Seokjin and some other close cousins to stay in his suite until their flight tomorrow afternoon, wanting to be surrounded by close friends and (almost) family.

As for your family, they decide to find the silver lining. While the chapel was able to cancel the wedding, the reception wasn’t as easy to sway. At the very last second, your grandparents decided to make use of the reception and renew their Golden Anniversary vows instead. The ceremony will be a quick, sweet affair. At this very moment, your cousin Yoongi is getting officiated online.

And for you? You’re in the place where you’ve wanted to remain all week. A fluffy hotel bed wrapped up with your not-boyfriend.

Or?

Would a not-boyfriend be snuggling against your chest like you’re the softest teddy bear in the toy shop? Would a not-boyfriend be hooking your leg atop his lap, forcing you to latch onto him so his hands can roam freely against your soft thighs?

“We have to get ready for the wedding,” you whine against his hold, to no avail when he only holds you tighter.

“But your grandparents are already married,” Jungkook whines right back, nuzzling his nose in your head. “This is like an afterparty fifty years later.”

“I wanna get dressed,” you insist, pushing yourself up, “and we still need to talk.”

Without Seokjin staying with you, the hotel room feels much bigger and freer for the two of you. Your clothes are scattered on the floor, uncaring of any wrinkles or smears that would get on the delicate fabric.

All that matters is that Jungkook is still here with you. Doyeon’s wedding is called off, but he’s still lying in bed with you. You want to burn this image to memory, and keep it forever. Jungkook laying in only his white undershirt and boxers, looking at you dreamily as if he’s still in nap-mode. Hair that was previously windswept and exposing his forehead is now out of place, fluffy and sticking out in all directions. His cheeks are flushed with coral-colored warmth, and a little puffy because you two have been sleeping most of the afternoon.

“Right, talk,” he repeats, letting you hand him his black button up so he can clothe himself.

You throw off your shirt somewhere behind you, not wanting to face him as you walk to the full-length mirror. “So, I think my feelings for you are pretty clear and out in the open…”

“Same, I think I made it pretty clear as well.”

“What? You turn around, looking at where he’s still half-covered in bed. “You did not. I distinctly remember almost confessing my love to you last night. And then this morning, only for you to cut me off and say ‘that’s great’.”

“Oh,” he stares at the white sheets that cover his lower half. “I guess I didn’t then.”

You smile wryly, turning back to face the mirror so you can slip into your dress that’s been pooled around your ankles like a silver halo. “Maybe you thought it in your mind and forgot to tell me.”

That seems about right. Jungkook has a tendency to be a little too passionate for his own good, windswept in thoughts and feelings until they consume him. He hops out of bed, walking only in his dress shirt and socks as he makes his way to the mirror. “Then let me do all the talking,” he says softly against your neck, hands on your hips.

You shiver when you feel the cold silver of the zipper whirr up your body, Jungkook’s large hands splaying across your back to smooth out the waistline.

“You of all people would know that being with Doyeon is a trip,” he chuckles into the crook of your neck, “I thought that was what love felt like. Being codependent, jumping through hurdles, trying so hard to please someone who can’t be pleased.”

Jungkook’s hands wrap around your waist, hugging you tightly. He squeezes you and holds you like the most precious thing in the entire world. Through the mirror, you two are quite a pair.

“But with you, I never knew love could be like this, feel like this.”

“So… are you saying you love me?” you fight the urge to bounce around in his grip, the biggest smile on your face.

“You really just want me to say ‘I love you’ and be done with it, huh?”

Within seconds he’s pulling you from behind, whirling you around to the edge of the bed. He manages to flouce up your skirts to billow around his lap, sitting you down on his bare thighs.

“You look like a cupcake, all sprawled up like this,” Jungkook says cutely, peppering kisses in a trail from your chest all the way to your lips. “You look like a huge, silvery cupcake and I love you. It’s so easy to love you.”

Maybe it was kismet that Jungkook didn’t get to you first all those years ago. Maybe the right time is right here, right now.

“I love you, too,” you say happily, dipping down to press a long, passionate kiss to his lips. He tastes like love and a happy future. When you pull away, you encapsulate his face in both your palms, regarding him like the sun and stars. “But you know, if we date you’ll never get away from my crazy family.”

Jungkook snorts, pressing his forehead to yours, “And miss Yoongi re-marrying off your grandparents tonight, the next year of Seokjin and Namjoon running circles around each other, and a lifetime of happiness?” his hands snake under your dress, finding purchase in your soft skin, “not a chance.”

#jungkook x reader #gcn23 #goldenclosetnet #btsghostie #kwritersworldnet #jungkook fic #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts angst

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owlmylove · 3 years ago

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Just had the very distressing thought that if I ever want to have a girlfriend I'm gonna have to TALK to a girl?!?!??!?!?!?

I'd have to talk to a girl that I LIKE and HAVE A CRUSH ON?!?!? Impossible! Please help a distressed lesbian if you have any advice

okay so: in my personal experience 90% of all lesbian flirting is eyeing up fellow women to discreetly try to determine if they, too, are wlw. then you compliment each others button downs and never speak to each other again

BUT if you would like to painstakingly attempt to challenge the starfish fallacy then read on for my comprehensive guide on flirting w/ women! (credentials: i have accidentally flirted with So Many Women oh my god)

first up: start with the art of compliments! if you're too shy to tell a girl they're gorg out of nowhere, then focus on their clothing, their haircuts, their cool shoes, the patches on their denim jackets, etc. opening a convo with a compliment is one of the easiest shortcuts, as it neatly prevents you from having to come up w/ a witty rejoinder right off the bat (save those for later)

physical proximity makes it easy to do this to someone standing or sitting next to you. if, however, they're on the other side of the room/otherwise engaged, it gets trickier. if ur confident enough to walk up to a girl in a coffeeshop + compliment her, GO FOR IT. but if you're too anxious to just coldcall her, approach with a question.

you can warp the compliment to fit the question, i.e. "Hey! Sorry to interrupt [your reading], but your book looks super interesting/I've seen it around & am debating whether to buy it. Would you recommend it?" or, re: outfits/haircuts "Hey! Your ____ is super cute, can I ask where you got it [done]?" if they're a classmate/coworker, you can make it even less direct: "Hey! Do you know when we're scheduled to do ____?" (<- this one comes w/ the perk of, pending her response, immediately asking for her # to swap shifts or trade notes, which can quickly allow for inviting her to a study group/after work drinks with coworkers. speedrun!!)

once Conversation is Initiated, maintain eye contact, listen attentively to their replies, and keep smiling/smizing. if they're reticent, follow up with more questions unless you're getting fuck off vibes ("I'm trying to get more into reading lately, would you have any other reccs?" or, "I haven't found a hairstylist yet since I moved here from _____, are there any other local spots you'd recommend?")

BUT if they're returning eye contact, smiling, and keeping open body language towards you, make it a full-on convo! offer some personal details in return, don't be afraid to make (non-risky!!!!) jokes, and (if you can control when & where you're moving, i.e. not during a job or class) have a built-in exit.

even if convos are going good, it's polite (+ leaves them wanting more via scarcity principle, etc. etc.) to end a brief first-time convo after a few minutes, ideally before the energy winds down & you're left feeling awkward. "it's been so lovely meeting you! [insert name here], right? I've got to get going, but thanks for the ___!" if you wanna play the long game/are in a coffeeshop/aren't confident enough yet (no shame!) ask if she comes here regularly and say you hope to see her around sometime soon.

if you've managed to get a good enough energy going: ask if she has an insta/social media you could get for _____ purpose, i.e. letting her know if you like the book/music/media she recc'd or asking for more local spots. IF, however, you don't wanna put yourself at the whim of her generosity: give yourself a cheat code during the initial conversation.

namely; reference something you'd recommend, think she'd find funny, or can't believe she hasn't seen yet, etc. etc. then, at the end of the convo, you can naturally offer "Oh! Lemme send you that X I mentioned--do you have an insta/social?" et voila. asking for social is always less awk/direct than asking for phone numbers, AND it lets the flirtee decide whether she wants to offer that level of trust just yet

if you're not coldcall flirting a girl in public, but rather have an object of your affections at work or school: this formula works p. much the same, but on a slower scale (if you don't use my speedrun ofc) start building a rapport via compliments/questions, progress to chatting briefly whenever you see each other, and third step: say "I saw something yesterday that totally reminded me of you/I just have to send to you!! Here-do I have your insta yet?"

once you have someone's insta: continue chatting when you see them irl/replying to their stories over social, and see if you can pay close enough attention to what she likes to do. judging by the number of accidental lesbian dates i've been on, it's probably

art museum

botanical gardens, or

burlesque shows

however, hikes, used bookstores, underground shows, and grocery shopping together for a subsequent picnic also feature prominently. invite her to do whatever activity you think you'd both enjoy most (over social or irl, whichever you're comfortable with [tho irl gives you a better judge of facial expressions/body language]) and boom. if she says yes, shoot back "it's a date!" after setting the day/time, bc if she's anywhere near as clueless as i am (i'm so sorry wlw) they may honestly think you're still just friends.

if, over the course of your irl convos or DMs, you have the chance to casually mention your sexuality (patches, pride is coming up, mention "my teenage crush/my ex-girlfriend") and ask for hers, go for it. if you can be direct: ask directly. it will save you time, trouble, and mild heartbreak. but if you suffer from the conflict avoidance that plagues lo so many of us: just lean into the subtext.

offer your celebrity crushes and ask what hers are. mention an ex (BRIEFLY, in connection to another topic entirely [she recc'd this cool band to me!] and always in a positive context). wear birkenstocks or docs and say Portrait of a Lady on Fire is the best film of all time, say you listen to girl in red or w/e those charming youths do. just lay the foundation in barely-subtext and keep an eye on her responses, while accepting the risk of wooing what may or may not be a fellow wlw

once you are, in point of fact, ON the date: standard rules and rates apply. relax! be urself!! enjoy spending time with a cool person, regardless of what may or may not come of it!!!! if she seems into it lean into physical proximity, do the whole Tarzan hand-comparison wlw are addicted to, offer to feed her bites of food or swap sips of each other's drinks, and casually set intentions for future plans ("I've never heard of X cafe--we'll have to do that next time!" or, the infamous buy-her-smth-secretly and then offer "You can get mine next time c:")

again, the most important thing is to be sincere. it's good not to place too many expectations on the other person, but don't force yourself to be overly "chill" if you are not, in point of fact, a chill person. dating is always a process of getting to know one another, and it's important to be polite but pls don't feel like you have to follow a script or be someone you're not. just be you babe: you're already plenty lovable. godspeed + good luck!!<33

#long post #lesbian #wlw #how to flirt #lesbian dating advice #dating advice #sorry for the stereotypes but sometimes they're useful!!!#anonymous #reply

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fuwushiguro · 4 years ago

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@nomadmilk thank you sooooo much for the congrats gorg!! sorry its taken so long to write this, but welcome to bunny life!! hope u have a fantastic shift and enjoy ur time with hawks (he’s super popular at these things!!)

This is part of my Playboy Mansion event which is now closed.

Hawks x f!reader

Genre: smut

Warnings: 18+, consensual sex, mentions of alcohol, oral (male receiving), fingering, mentions of cum, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, car sex, daddy kink, praise kink, degradation.

Words: 2k

The party was in full swing. Everyone was chatting, laughing, dancing, generally having a great time. So why were you so bored? This is your latest in a long line of Playboy parties. They’re fun, of course they’re fun. That’s why so many people come to attend these things after all. It’s such an exclusive event, invite only and only those in the know get the special pink envelope in the post every time the function comes around. But it’s the same every time, it’s the same smiling, happy faces dancing and drinking every single time. You were bored.

You needed some excitement.

You got more than you bargained for when a trio of bunnies approached you. They cat walked over to you, one slightly in front of the others. These particular bunnies are a group of girls you haven’t really taken the time to get to know. You say hello in passing, but nothing more past that. They looked like they meant business, like they had something to tell you about.

“You do work here, yes?” the leader questioned you. You quirked an eyebrow. Was the outfit not enough of a giveaway? Or the fact you see her almost daily since you both live here. You just nodded, simply. Not sure you’d be able to keep your attitude in check if you actually spoke. “So why are you just sitting here? Work the room, get drinks for the guests.” she commanded. You scoffed.

“Sure.” you replied as you stood to your feet. Before you could get back to work, she grabbed you harshly by the wrist. “Let go of me.” you yelped as you attempted to free yourself from her hold.

“What’s wrong with your fucking face? This is a party. You have the best job in the world, seem a little happy about it.” she scolded as she got in your face. Just as you were about to use your free hand to slap her across her stupid smug face, a third party intervened and snatched her away from you.

“Behave little bunny.” he spoke. Her features instantly transformed from furious to flirtatious.

It was Keigo Takami. You’d seen him around before, but never spoke to him. You’d never been this close to him. Most of the bunnies had a soft spot for Keigo, and it wasn’t hard to see why. He was pretty. A pretty blonde stranger with a splash of mystery. What wasn’t to like? He was a big flirt too; you’d heard several stories exchanged of him from the other girls. He’d fucked quite a few of them, even though it was against the rules.

“Keigo!” she began excitedly, “nice to see you again baby… You wanna go somewhere?” she asked him. He looked over to you, but you paid him no mind. You picked up your cocktail tray and wandered off towards the bar.

“Not tonight.” he simply stated as he followed you.

He tapped your right shoulder and you immediately looked to see who it was, when you didn’t immediately see him you turned to your left to see him smiling. He clearly thought it was amusing, but you were in no mood. You gave him a half hearted smile as you reached the bar, you set your tray down and waited for the bar staff to fill it up with drinks for you to carry.

“Tough night?” Keigo questioned. You nodded.

“Apparently your girlfriend doesn’t like me too much.” you responded. He shook his head, immediately denying the accusing tone to your voice. Keigo doesn’t do girlfriends. Before he lets you pick up your serving tray, he rests his heavy hand on it preventing you from lifting.

“Apologies if this comes off a little forward or… you know… inappropriate,” he began, “but do you wanna come and take a breather in my car with me?”

You knew what he was doing. It wasn’t as smooth of a line as he thought it was. But he was staring into your eyes, you were staring back into the pretty pools of honey that were fixated on you. Your hand was on his as you had placed it there when you initially wanted your tray back. It was silly that you were even contemplating it, but the overwhelming adrenaline from the bitch bunny’s confrontation had your train of thought all over the place. You couldn’t think straight. You couldn’t think what a good and bad idea was. You just wanted some air, you wanted to be out of here. So, you held his gaze and parted your lips.

“Yes.”

☆ ☆ ☆

You left together, and no one seemed to notice. There were so many guests and a large selection of bunny girls, who would care if two people went missing? He opened the passenger side door for you. So chivalrous. You thought to yourself. When he began driving, he put a hand onto your headrest. His face was a little too close to yours as he reversed, he poked his tongue out as he was concentrating. You felt the blood fill your face, warming your cheeks from slight embarrassment. You did your best to turn away and regain your composure. The little act didn’t go unnoticed, Keigo looked at you and smiled.

“Are you nervous?” he queried.

“A little.” you confessed.

He began driving around the back of the mansion. There were so many acres to the yard, only a small fraction was used by the guests for these parties. But still, you’re fairly sure people aren’t meant to drive on the perfectly mowed grass.

“I don’t think you should be doing this.” you told him, but he didn’t stop. Plunging further and further into the darkness of the unlit field.

“Don’t worry babe, me and your boss go back.” he told you. The pet name making you dizzy.

The car came to a stop. Silence. You knew what was about to happen. He knew what was about to happen. But the tension in the air was immeasurable. It was a waiting game to see who’d make the first move. You could barely look in his direction. The tense atmosphere could be cut with a knife.

☆ ☆ ☆

“Good girl…” he cooed. Your throat accommodating seven inches of his fat veiny cock. Your eyes watered, but you didn’t care. His hand rested delicately on the crown of your head while you went at your own pace.

You sloshed your tongue around his erection, stimulating each vein as you bobbed up and down.

“Such a good fucking bunny, aren’t you? My little cock slut.” he praised.

You felt shame that you were just another bunny on his ever growing list of conquests, but in this moment with his cock head nudging your tonsils, you’re finding it difficult to care. When you lifted your head, he wrapped a fist around the base of his shaft and started jerking himself off. He forced your head back to his cock, you let him fill your wet cavern with his tip. You knew he was close, his moaning was like music to your ears.

“Hnng. – fuck – fucking hell sweetheart I’m gonna fucking cum.” he announced. You hummed approvingly. “Gonna take it all aren’t you? Take all of my fucking cum you – jesus fuck - you little slutty bunny, take daddy’s cum.” he pumped his cock a couple of more times before spilling into you with a needy high pitch whine. Thick white ropes filled into your mouth and you swallowed almost instantly.

“Thank you.” you smiled sweetly, showing him the lack of cum in your mouth. He was still heaving from his orgasm. There was a sheen layer of sweat clinging to his skin, little beads dripping down his forehead.

“Fuckin’ hell sweetheart.” he spoke, it sounded like more praise. Like he was impressed with you. The thought of making him proud went straight to your aching cunt. He took a few more moments to settle himself down and regain his composure. When his breathing steadied, he grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you onto his lap. He kissed you deeply while you positioned yourself to straddle him on the driver’s seat. He slowly unbuttoned the bottom of your corset, revealing your lacy black panties that resided underneath. He pushed them to the side and ran a single digit up the length of your slit. The feeling made you shudder and collapse your body onto his.

His cock was back to full mast, he used the tip head to explore your folds before plunging into you.

“Hnng… Daddy…” you mewled, earning a scoff from the blonde.

“You’re like that huh? A slut for daddy like that? Get yourself off,” he commanded, “Go on, get yourself off on daddy’s cock.”

You descended onto his length and he sat snugly at your cervix. You wrapped your arms around his neck to steady yourself. He pulled down the front of your corset, wanting to watch your tits bounce as you used him to get off. He used his tongue to dance over your left nipple and a free hand to roll your right one between his finger and thumb. The occasional pinch forcing you to clench around him. You were bouncing on him, taking him so well. He took a moment to look at your face, admiring the way your eyes scrunched and lips pouted as little ‘ooo’ sounds escaped.

“That’s it baby girl, just like that.” he smiled. The sweet pet name was enough incentive to make you pick up the pace. Raising higher and sinking lower on his fat cock, each vein hitting every sweet spot inside of you. You could feel the car rocking. But you didn’t care. No one would know, no one could see, no one could hear.

“D-daddy, oh! Oh daddy! Fuck!” you cried.

“Yeah babe, just like that. Juuuuust like that baby. Fuck you’re such a good slut for daddy aren’t you?” he told you. His fingers dug into the supple flesh of your hips, and you’re sure tomorrow they’ll turn into beautiful blue blooms to remind you of who you belonged to tonight. He started meeting your motions, thrusting up inside you and hitting deeper than you could by yourself.

“Hnng. Keigo! Gonna, gonna cum daddy!” you practically shouted, the feeling of the coil within you coming undone. He couldn’t respond, he had reached his peak for the second time and was soiling your insides. But you didn’t stop, he didn’t stop either. He wanted to fuck his seed further into you, his bruising thrusts were relentless.

“Good girl, you can do it. Doing such a good job f’me.” he told you.

Within seconds he felt your cunt clamp him in, he didn’t think he had anything more to give you but the feeling of your glorious snatch trapping him unravelled him once again. Depositing more of his load into your tight pussy. You collapsed on him once again, moaning into his ear as you came around his cock. You moved your body back slightly to look at him, kissing him deeply. Your tongue massaging his as you carried on panting into each other. You carried on warming his cock, but parted your bodies slightly so you could calm down. He looked down at where the two of you were connected and snickered.

“What a pretty little mess you made.” he commented. When you looked there was a mixture of his cum and your slick stuck to his trousers. You looked at him, innocently batting your lashes.

You had officially made the list of bunnies that Keigo had fucked. But you had a feeling you’d be on an even more exclusive list of bunnies that Keigo wants to fuck more than once.

I hope you enjoyed your shift as a playboy bunny!! Thanks so much for taking part in this event I hope this was worth the wait!! Mwah mwah xxx

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marvel-and-mischief · 4 years ago

Text

Play Me One More Time

Pairing: Marcus Pike x F!Reader Words: 3900 Warnings: FLUFF, little bit of angst but it's completely overwhelmed by the FLUFF, a swear word or two Synopsis: Marcus puts out a call for your old band to get back together again. You accept, but how long will it take before old feelings for Marcus get in the way?

Inspired by this gifset

Fic Masterpost

The notification popped up on your phone during your lunch break at work. Where you sat at your classroom desk next to the window you could hear children screaming and laughing. You nearly missed the ping of your phone over the sounds.

Holding your half eaten sandwich in one hand, you curiously swiped down from the top of your phone and clicked on the notification without much thought.

Marcus Pike has sent you a message!

You lost your grip on your sandwich as it plonked down onto your lap, but that was the least of your worries. You frantically tried to exit out of the messaging app before it could open but nothing worked. The conversation opened and the word 'read' stared at you mockingly underneath his message.

You sighed, ignoring the sauce that was seeping through your cotton trousers. You had no choice but to read it now. And then you'd have to reply to whatever he had sent you or he'd think you were ignoring him.

Hey! Long time no speak! I've been in touch with Jo and Tom and was wondering if you wanted to get the old band back together? Maybe have a catch up if you're not too busy? Let me know :)

You chewed on your bottom lip as you reread the message half a dozen times, heart hammering in your chest as you realised Marcus must be back in your hometown. You'd heard through Jo that he'd moved to Washington a couple of years ago, so what had brought him back?

You haven't played in the band since your college days, and your only captive audience since then has been the pre-school kids you teach. But you couldn't pass up the opportunity to see Marcus again, the man you'd been head over heels in love with since you knew what love was.

The school bell rang throughout the building, signalling the end of recess and the beginning of afternoon lessons.

Marcus! So good to hear from you. Would love to catch up, are you free this weekend? x

By the time you cleaned up your trousers you had your reply.

This weekend is great. Want to meet at our old diner? Heard Mr Howells still owns it.

You grinned down at your phone, thinking about the afternoons you used to play hooky with Marcus and hide out at Mr Howells' diner. You were surprised Marcus remembered it.

He does! The burgers haven't changed either. Is Saturday 6pm any good?

You tapped your feet as you waited for his reply. Your children were lining up outside the door and you needed to know if you were having a date with your forever crush before continuing with your day.

When your phone pinged, you breathed out a sigh of relief.

Sounds perfect. Can't wait to see you again! :)

You sent the thumbs up emoji and put your phone away, opening the classroom door with a smile on your face and a pep in your step.

You'd been here, at Mr Howells' Diner, a week before Christmas with a couple of teacher friends you worked with but now it felt different. Now you had memories of you and Marcus giggling over overflowing chocolate milkshakes and feeling sick from gorging on too many salty fries floating through your head. You saw Marcus' baby face fading into a sharp jawline and high cheekbones, you'd seen him change from boy to man in this diner, and he'd seen you change from girl to woman.

You bounced from one foot to the other nervously as you peaked through the window of the door in search of your old friend.

"You could've waited inside," came a deep voice from behind you. You spun around and came face to face with Marcus. He glowed yellow and red under the neon sign above you, but he looked beautiful, grin plastered wide on his face as he took you in for the first time in years.

"Hey," you managed to breathe out a welcome without too much embarrassment, "I didn't know if you were already here."

"Shall we?" Marcus stepped closer to reach around you and open the door.

You blinked to readjust your eyes to the bright fluorescent lights inside the diner. You giggled when you realised Marcus was doing the same.

"You weren't lying, it's hardly changed since we were kids," Marcus laughed, eyeing the original furnishings and old menu signs hanging on the walls.

You took a seat in your old booth, the one you and Marcus would automatically flock to when you were younger. It was far enough away from the counter that you had privacy for your teenage musings, but it overlooked the car park so you could watch out for anyone you needed to hide from.

"This takes me back," Marcus mused, shaking off his coat when you did the same.

"Yeah, it brings back so many memories."

"Do they still do the Choc'o'Shock shakes?"

You laughed and pointed towards the milkshake menu above the counter.

"They do!?" Marcus gasped loudly, eyes wide in surprise, "that was my favorite, with the popping candy-"

"- and the cinnamon, yeah, we used to share because it was in the extra large glass."

"Yeah, oh man."

Your laughter died down as soon as the waitress came over and took your orders. Your nerves from earlier had completely disappeared. Even in the silence that followed the waitress leaving the table it was comfortable as you both tried to find the words to start a conversation.

"I've been in Washington for a couple of years," Marcus began.

"For work?"

"Yeah, I needed to go away for a bit. Some things happened and a fresh start was what I needed."

You nodded as you listened. You wanted to ask more but you had to remember your friendship wasn't what it used to be. There was a boundary now, an unspoken line that came with not being in each other's lives for so long.

"Are you back for good?" you asked.

"I hope so. Nothing beats home, y'know?"

"I dunno, I envied you moving to the city whilst I stayed on the outskirts. Felt like you were moving on to bigger and better things and I was staying still." You shrugged it off. You hadn't meant to be that honest but it was what you had felt at the time.

"You're still teaching aren't you?"

"Yeah," you smiled at the waitress as she brought over your drinks, you were glad for the distraction.

"You still like teaching?"

"I wouldn't want to do anything else," you smiled, thinking of the kids you taught, "it's a privilege to get to shape young minds, y'know? Even at pre-school age, they're so inquisitive, and they question everything and I'm the one that gives them the answers."

Marcus smiled as he listened. You suddenly felt shy under his intense gaze, something you'd never felt around him before. But he was listening, really listening to you and it felt so good that he wanted to get to know this different, older version of the person he'd known years ago.

"You look happy," Marcus sighed happily, though you sensed something else in his tone that you couldn't put your finger on.

"I'm happy with my job," you replied, but now there was something in your tone, a comment unspoken, 'I'm happy with my job but not in other aspects of my life'.

"And outside of work?"

Damn you Marcus and your ability to look right through me.

You gave him a smile that didn't reach your eyes, a smile that told him that things weren't as perfect as your job.

"I can't complain."

"You can to me," Marcus pushed his coffee to the side and gave you his full attention. He'd always been good at giving you his full attention, maybe that was why it was so easy to fall in love with him.

"I live on my own, have for a while. It's fine, it's what it is." You couldn't look him in the eye, instead focusing on cars pulling in and out of the parking lot.

"I get it. The older I get the harder it is to find someone special," Marcus said wistfully. You glanced over to him and he showed you a crooked smile. "It is what it is."

Your food was placed down in front of you and thankfully your conversations turned lighthearted.

The hug he gave you on the steps outside the diner was longer than normal but you weren't one to complain. You held him close, breathing in the sweet, smoky scent of his cologne and committing it to memory.

"Band practice."

You sighed dramatically as you pulled away from him.

"I sing to pre-schoolers, I'm not as good as I used to be."

"You had a voice of an angel, that doesn't just go away."

You rolled your eyes at his compliment, but you felt warm inside.

"Just don't laugh at me, okay?"

"I promise," Marcus said, and you believed him.

Band practise was at Tom's childhood home, just like the good old days. He had moved into the house when his parent's moved back to their home country of Cuba when they retired five years ago. The white, spiky outer walls reminded you of the time when you fell up the steps and smacked your head against the sharp spikes. You involuntarily cringed.

The garage was nostalgic in every way. It still housed a legless, cracking leather couch (where you used to sit way too close to Marcus on), Tom's 90's television set sat above collections of dusty VHS tapes, bicycle frames decorated the walls and a drum kit was set up on the far side of the wall.

"Please don't tell me the drums have been here since the end of college?"

Tom laughed and shook his head at you.

"Jo helped me get them down from the attic."

You raised your eyebrows at Jo who blushed and quickly looked away in response. There had been this unspoken thing between her and Tom throughout college, just as there had always been something quietly charged between you and Marcus. Except you had your suspicions that Jo and Tom had had the courage to do something about their thing at some point.

Marcus entered through the garage door, rubbing his hands together with a childlike excitement on his face.

"I don't know if it's because I'm getting old but I've been looking forward to this all week."

You laughed and before you knew it you were behind a microphone stand singing late 90's/early 2000's indie anthems with your friends playing behind you.

"Should we play some of our old songs?" Jo asked innocently.

"No."

"Fuck no."

"Absolutely not."

You all burst into fits of giggles.

You thought back to those songs you used to write and sing. "They were all so..."

"Angsty."

You turned to Marcus who had spoken. You nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, what was that about? What was going on in our lives that we had to write like that?"

You were being lighthearted but the way Marcus flashed you a sad smile had you taken aback. What did Marcus write about? You wished you still had your lyric books, maybe that would give a clue as to what teenage Marcus Pike was thinking and feeling.

"Lunch break anyone?" Tom shook you out of your thoughts and you were quick to jump at the chance to change the subject.

Over the next few months you all met up for band practice whenever you were all free, which was rare. Eventually the meet ups became less about the music and more about getting to know what was going on in your friend's lives since college.

The summer evenings were getting cooler and you took the opportunity to light a fire pit in Tom's back garden and sit around with beers in hand and Jo's phone hooked up to a small speaker playing background music to your conversations.

"So, the FBI, " Jo took a sip of her beer, "you must have some stories."

Marcus preened under the attention, goofy smile stretched wide as he picked at the label on his beer bottle.

"Yeah, none that I can tell you I'm afraid."

You joined in on the mock 'boos' that echoed around the pit. Marcus laughed.

"I'm sorry! Anyway, I specialised in art, it's not that interesting."

"Any art heists?"

"No, Jo."

"You know I saw a documentary on Netflix about these Rembrandt's..."

Tom's voice seemed to fade away as you caught Marcus' eye over the flames of the fire. You felt content under his gaze, like you'd done this a million times, like you were teenagers again listening to Tom go on about something you weren't interested in, hearing Jo pacify him absentmindedly whilst you and Marcus spoke without speaking.

It reminded you how in sync you always were, and still seemed to be. It hurt that after all these years there was still something between you, but was it enough? Marcus had come back to his hometown but you still weren't sure why.

You smiled a wobbly smile and stood from your camping chair.

"I'm just going to get some water," you announced and made your way towards the kitchen.

You didn't put the light on, instead taking to stand in the darkest corner of the room to catch your breath. You closed your eyes and leant your head back against the wall, not seeing Marcus following you in.

"You okay?"

You jumped in surprise but didn't choose to reply to him just yet. You needed to gather your thoughts together, try and have this conversation without all the emotions you felt bubbling up inside of you spilling out in front of Marcus.

"Why did you come back?"

You opened your eyes to see Marcus leaning back against the kitchen island. He was too far away to touch, but close enough that you could smell the smoke from the fire on his clothes.

"It's home. It's where I'm most comfortable. It's where all my memories are."

Were you satisfied with that answer? It seemed too vague to be completely true, but Marcus was never a liar. He seemed to sense where your head's at and sighed.

"There was someone. I wanted it to be serious. We got engaged, I promised her the world, we were going to fly out to Washington together. But it turned out I wasn't who she wanted."

You don't know what got to you the most, the fact that someone rejected this wonderful man, or that he didn't sound all that sad about it.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be, it made me realise I didn't want any of it either. I do want all of that, but not with her."

He whispered the last bit but in the silence of the kitchen it was hard to miss. He wanted someone else. And at that realisation you think you felt your heart crack cleanly in two.

You didn't know how to respond without admitting how you've felt for over fifteen years. You leaned away from the corner you had tried to hide yourself in and came to stand in front of Marcus.

"It's her loss. You know that, right?"

Marcus' eyes sparkled in the setting sun, and you realised it was because they were watery. You moved forward quicker than you could think and engulfed him in your arms, holding him tight to your chest as he instantly wrapped his arms around you.

You had done this hundreds of times, but this time it felt special, and you couldn't put your finger on why.

Your morning class hadn't even begun when your phone rang in your bag. Glancing at the bright red clock on the wall you had five minutes before the first bell. You frowned, trying to find your phone amongst the mess of tissues, pens and bandaids that had fallen out of their packaging before you saw Marcus' name flashing on the screen.

"Hello?"

"Hey, I'm sorry it's so early, I'm just getting into work. I was wondering if you were free tonight?"

You felt your heart jackhammer in your chest and you inwardly cursed at the way Marcus' question had sounded. Like a date. You rolled your eyes at your nonsense.

"I should be free. Why?"

"I wanted to go back to the diner if you're up for it? We didn't order the Choc'o'Shock shake, wanted to see if it tastes exactly like it used to."

You smiled at the thought of sharing a shake like you used to, and found yourself agreeing.

"Sounds good. Meet you there at seven?"

"Seven's great."

You ended the call just as the bell rang. You reminded yourself that you were just two friends, catching up like you have been for months. And you wouldn't let yourself get your hopes up. Because now that you had Marcus back in your life, you wanted to keep it that way. And you weren't going to ruin it by telling him you loved him when he didn't love you back.

You got there ten minutes early so you took a seat at yours and Marcus' favored booth and waited. There was hardly anyone in the diner, a couple of families dotted about, two teenagers on a date giggling over milkshakes. It made you smile and hope that things turned out better for them than it did for you and Marcus.

The bell over the door chimed and in walked Marcus, freshly shaved, hair perfectly ruffled. He wore a smart jacket over a casual shirt and jeans. It made you feel a little underdressed, should you have dressed up?

He spotted you, long legs striding over with a purpose before taking the seat across from you, out of breath and cheeks tinged pink.

"I thought I was going to be late. Got a new assistant in the office but he's struggling to get to grips with the way I like things."

You smiled, trying to imagine the gangly, slightly awkward boy in your memories as someone professional, and bossy. You giggled.

"I've only just got here myself."

Marcus threaded his fingers together on top of the black and white checkered table.

"I wanted to talk to you actually, about the other night."

You frowned. Did he mean the night in the kitchen where you comforted him?

"You don't have to feel bad about it. It's normal to let out your emotions."

Marcus smiled gratefully. "I know that, I just want to be honest. I've always been a man who is upfront with the people I care about."

You nodded. Marcus was an honourable, straightforward man. You knew he'd never go behind your back and say something, he was completely trustworthy in that sense. In every sense. He was just a good guy.

"I didn't have to come back here this year. I had choices but after everything that had happened, I realised some things."

You mirrored his posture, hands on the table an inch away from his and gave him your full attention. Despite feeling sick to your stomach about what he was going to say next, you knew he needed you to listen, so you did.

"D'you remember the time I got my drivers license, and I took you for a ride in my dad's old pick up truck?"

"Of course. I warned you you should have driven something smaller so soon after your test."

"Yeah but I was trying to show off and I ended up getting it stuck in mud and I had to call my dad out to free us."

You chuckled at the memory. Marcus had been so embarrassed and you'd calmed him down by holding his shaky hand and plying him with copious amounts of gum to chew on to distract him.

"And when I got my letter to say I'd been accepted into the FBI training program, you were there when I opened it. And when we shared our first sip of alcohol at thirteen, and you got me my first VHS that taught me how to play bass, you remember that?"

"I remember it all, but I don't understand where you're going with this." You weren't opposed to this trip down memory lane, but it was bringing back all these moments in your life that just reminded you that you'd always loved him.

"If I made a movie of my life, all the important parts would have you in them. All the parts that make up the man I am today are filled with you. I never want you out of my life again."

You swallowed around the lump in your throat. You grabbed a paper napkin and quickly patted at the tears falling down your cheeks as you prepared to ask the question that may change your life forever.

"What are you saying, Marcus?"

"I love you."

You let out a shaky breath. Marcus gently took your hands in his.

"I think I always have, but I know for sure I do now. And these past months have confirmed everything. I love you."

"I've loved you since the day I met you. When I grazed my knees in the park by your house and you heard me crying from your garden. And you ran over and pulled me up to my feet and played with me."

Marcus laughed loudly, disturbing the teenagers a few booths over who looked annoyed in your direction. You couldn't care less.

"I remember. My mom told me off for playing with a strange girl but we were inseparable after that."

"We've wasted so much time," you whispered sadly.

"No. How have we? We've spent most of our life together, building memories, having the time of our lives. We've been apart for a bit but has it felt like it?"

You thought about it and realised Marcus was right. You've gotten back into the rhythm of your friendship. It's not once been awkward. Since your last diner date it's like you had never been apart.

"I suppose it hasn't."

"So," Marcus began, clearing his throat and flashing you a cheeky smile, "do we count this as the first date or...?"

You let out a shuddery laugh. "Marcus, we've been here a hundred times."

"I know but, only as friends."

"Were we ever really just friends? We were in this weird, middle-ground where everyone knew we were into each other but we never went further than a kiss on the cheek."

"Ah! There was that one time."

You frowned and crossed your arms. "What are you talking about?"

"Christmas break during the first year of college, I turned too much when you leaned in for a kiss on the cheek and we ended up kissing on the lips."

You laughed, a full belly laugh that had Marcus gently shushing you, though he couldn't contain his chuckling either.

"I completely forgot!"

"That breaks my heart," Marcus said with a wink.

You eventually ordered your Choc'o'Shock shake, sharing it like you used to. Except this time everything was on the table. Your feelings were out in the open, you were happier than you'd ever been and there was hope for you and Marcus to go forward together.

“Would you like a redo on that kiss?” Marcus asked on the steps outside the diner.

You pretended to think about it before taking hold of the lapels of his jackets. “I’d like that very much.”

Permanent tag list: @autumnleaves1991-blog @bts17army @phoenixhalliwell @anu-simps @computeringturtle

#Marcus Pike #Marcus Pike x Reader #Marcus Pike x You #the mentalist #Pedro Pascal #Marcus Pike fanfic

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darling-i-read-it · 4 years ago

Text

Ko No Mono

2x11

Hannibal Lecter x reader x Will Graham

Hannibal Re-Write Series Masterlist

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: spoilers for hannibal, murder, dead bodies,, will being hot as fuck

Author’s Note: I’ve made my bed now i have to lie in it. I still haven’t actually seen your guys reaction to the last episode at the tiem of writing this so hopefully it blowed over okay lol. I love Will and Hannibal dudes.

I used some direct quotes from the script so some things may seem familiar

Official Episode Summary :Jack and his team discover the truth of Freddie Lounds' disappearance, Will tells Alana to arm herself; Mason suspects his sister intends to usurp him and Hannibal shows Will how much Abigail reminded him of his sister.

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director

Tag List (is always open!) : @llperfectsymmetryll @ericacactus @vlightning95

(not my gif)

You woke up slowly this time, a nightmare less sleep. Unfortunately you felt Will beside you and you could hear how loud he was breathing. You turned around and grabbed his arm to ground him. You waited for a minute as he caught his breath and then he laid back down on the pillow before wrapping his arms around you, his head resting on your chest.

You pet his hair and wordlessly, as though in tune, the two of you fell back asleep. Whatever dream he had was not worth talking about right now.

You sat beside Will. Will sat directly across from Hannibal as he dished up your food. It was an interesting one this time around, confusing. Everything Hannibal made confused you but you were used to it at this point.

“Among gourmands, the ortolan bunting is considered a rare-but-debauched delicacy. A rite of passage, if you will,” aHannibal said, sneaking a smile to both of you. “Preparation calls for the songbird to be drowned alive in Armagnac. It is then roasted and consumed whole in a single mouthful.”

“Ortolans are endangered,” Will stated.

“He’s right,” you said.

“Who amongst us is not?” Hannibal asked. You shook your head but you weren’t about to deny a Hannibal made dish.

“I have been gorged, drowned, plucked and roasted. Not yet,” Will said simply.

“Traditionally, during this meal, we’re to place shrouds over our heads, hiding our faces from God,” Hannibal said. “I don't hide from God.” You smiled a bit at his audacity. You picked up the bird and so did Will.

“Bones and all?” Will questioned.

“Bones and all.”

You and Will both ate it all in one bite. Your eyes locked with Hannibals as you did so. You swallowed after a moment.

“After my first ortolan, I was euphoric. A stimulating reminder of our power over life and death,” Hannibal said.

“I was euphoric when I killed Freddie Lounds,” you told him. Your mind wandered. Your hands around her neck. Will beside you.

“Did your heart race when you did it?”

“No,” Will said.

“Not a bit,” you retorted.

Hannibal smiled at the two of you. You were growing in his mind, evolving. This was his design and he was liking the way it was threaded.

You stood in the morgue, the charred body of Freddie Lounds in front of you.

“Freddie Lounds ultimate failure was her inability to keep herself out of her own stories,” Jack said.

You smiled.

“Freddie had the longing need to be noticed,” you stated.

“She was noticed,” Will finished.

You were fuming. Absolutely fuming. You were in the room with Hannibal, Will and Margot Verger. She sat in the chair across from Hannibal but you and Will were standing. You didn’t even have the heart to sit on the desk like you usually did you were so pissed.

“There’s no baby. Isn’t even an embryo yet. I’ve got hormones in my pee. That’s the extent of it. But here I am, feeling maternal,” Margot said.

“We’re discussing a small group of cells. Barely life, but immediately seen to be life-changing,” Hannibal said in his physiatrist voice. You had your arms crossed and despite the fact you were pissed, your face was in a careful poker face.

“I feel like everything that was done to me can almost be undone,” Margot said.

“Through children we can disrupt our own sense of the past. We can protect them in ways we weren’t,” Hannibal inquired. You were pissed at him too. You weren’t sure why but you were sure it would come up eventually.

“Life eventually bounces back Margot.”

“I could be good to a child. I’ll go to parenting classes,” she said like she was pleased with herself.

“You’ve conspired with your unborn child to liberate yourself and you’ve made Will and Y/N an unknowing accomplice,” Hannibal said.

“I got what I wanted from Will, but I didn’t understand what I was taking until the strip turned blue. Y/N was just a happy accident. I thought you were single, honestly and I’m not proud of myself,” she explained. You raised your finger to her and Will grabbed it before it slapped her in the face.

“Nor should you be. You said-” Will started.

“I lied,” she finished.

You felt like you were mourning something that you figured was yours. You stared at Margot and saw the mother of your boyfriend's baby. You had one night of slippage and here was the result. Margot Verger. The Vergers.

“You’re just as bad as your brother,” you hissed. “And did you know?” you asked Hannibal.

“I was aware of Margot’s goal of having a child. I was not aware of the means to achieve it.”

“What do you want from us?” Will asked. Still using ‘us’. It was after he said that he realized this could ruin any relationship he had with you. He didn’t even know if you wanted kids but someone else having his child was surely a dent. He looked over at you and you couldn’t even look at him. In fact, the only person you could look at was Hannibal.

“Little or nothing or as much as you’d like to give,” Margot said simply. You shook your head and left the room to your desk.

You sat there and shut the door behind you. You knew you shouldn’t be mad at Will. You did it together and it was a joint decision, granted it was not really talked about. A spur of the moment, completely calculated thing. You stared at your computer, the blank black screen that reflected you back at you.

Margot walked out and you stood up, refusing to show any emotion.

“I hope you’re pleased,” you said simply. Will left the office but you didn’t look at him.

“I’m sorry,” she said. You wanted to strangle the life out of her but instead you just walked past her and Hannibal to the office, shutting the door behind you. You walked over to the chair you promised yourself you would never sit at and you sat in it. Hannibal was still sitting at his chair.

You stared at each other.

“You swear to me you didn’t know,” you muttered.

“I did not know,” he said. “I had no idea you were bisexual.” You shook your head but you had bigger problems.

“It was a spur of the moment thing. Will and I had just…” you trailed off. “I was in the wrong headspace for her to have conniving plans.” You stared at Hannibal and stood up. “I don’t like those chairs,” you whispered. You walked over and finally sat on the desk. Hannibal got up.

“Has Will left?”

“He’s presumably waiting for me in the car.” You looked up at Will and tears pricked your eyes. “It’s not his fault,” you promised. Hannibal leaned against the desk beside you.

“But you believe that this will change things.” You whipped the few stray tears.

“Shouldn’t it? I mean come on, wouldn’t it be weird if I was having your child but you were with Alana?” Hannibal laughed dryly at the comparison. You took a deep breath. “I don't even know if I want kids but...that was supposed to be my kid,” you whispered. “Will and I were gonna have that family, the family that has now started between him and Margot Verger.”

Hannibal wiped your tears away with his thumb. He was now standing directly in front of you, looking down at you as you sat.

“Will loves you,” he promised. “And cares about you more than I would care about Alana in your analogy.” You nodded and he hugged you. You pressed your head against his chest.

“I just have to talk to him,” you whispered. He nodded.

“But your emotions are valid. Don’t forget that.” Hannibal pet your hair but he felt your emotions hitting a hard chord.

This wasn’t good.

The car ride home was interesting. Silence. Uncomfortable silence. That wasn’t something that you and Will were quite accustomed to. You got into the house and immediately locked yourself in the bathroom to catch your breath. You stared in the mirror and imagined how Will must be feeling.

Excitement to be a father? Going through things you were supposed to feel together one day?

You opened the door and Will sat on the bed. You walked over and sat beside him, looking at your hands.

“What does this mean?” you asked.

“If we have any more threesomes I should probably wear protection.”

“Good advice overall however I don't’ see many more threesomes in our future,” you whispered. He wasn’t sure what you meant by that. Did you mean just in general or that you wouldn’t be together at all?

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“I should be asking you how you’re feeling, father to be,” you said, voice breaking. You hid your emotions as best you could.

“Y/N…”

“It was meant to be us,” you whispered. “The two of us. Not you and Margot Verger.” He nodded and looked over at you. “Do you want me here now that you’re having a kid with her?” The dreaded question.

“Of course I want you here,” he said quickly. “I’ll always want you here.” You looked over at him. “Do you want to be here?” You nodded even quicker.

“I do.”

He hugged you tightly and you wrapped your legs around his waist as you sat on the bed. You buried your face in his shoulder. The battle wasn’t over but at least you knew you had each other.

“After Abigail,” he whispered. “I dream about her. I dream about teaching her to fish,” he told you. You nodded. You felt maternal to Abigail as well.

“And Hannibal....” He nodded, pulling away from you a bit. “Robbed that from us.”

“Yeah. He did.”

Will grabbed your arm. He was sweating, it was even showing on your pajama shirt. There was a knock on the door that had woken him up from a nightmare.

“You okay?” you whispered. He nodded.

“Who is that?”

“If it’s Margot Verger again I’ll drown her in the sink.” Will got up and walked to the door as you grabbed him a robe. You could hear from the back room that it was Alana.

“I guess I’m trying to convince myself of something. Or maybe I’m trying to convince you. Or maybe I don't know why I’m here,” she said. You walked up to the door.

“I know why. You’re worried I killed Freddie Lounds.”

“Did you?” Alana asked. She looked at you and you looked at her. Your friendship had unfortunately dissolved over time. She seemed so pensive now.

“What do you think?” Will asked.

“I think that’s the wrong answer to tell somebody who is already wondering what you’re capable of,” Alana said. Will turned to you.

“Can you make us some coffee?”

“Two or three cups?”

“Two,” he said bluntly. You nodded and walked into the house but you could still be here.

“I know you’re lying to me. You’ve slipped into some kind of skin and I think it fits you a little too well,” she said.

“I told everyone Hannibal was a killer and no one believed me. Just like no one would believe you if you said I was a killer,” Will said and you smiled as you started to make coffee.

“I'm afraid, Will. But not of you. I'm afraid for you. I don't think Hannibal is good for you. I think your relationship is destructive.”

“Hannibal's good enough for you.” You almost clapped at that but you contend to pretend you weren’t listening.

“You should be afraid. You’re right to be afraid.”

Alana Bloom stood back at Freddie’s funeral. You were with Will but you wanted to talk to her first so you told him to wait back. You walked up to her and she let out a small sigh at your presence.

“I’m here to mourn Freddie Lounds. Can’t imagine it’s why you’re here,” she muttered.

“I’m here in support of my boyfriend. His psychiatrist recommended he come.” Alana looked over at you.

“They aren’t who you think they are. You may think that you know Hannibal Lecter but you don’t. I don’t think anyone does,” she said. Almost like a warning.

“Says the girl sleeping with him,” you whispered teasingly. “I know Hannibal better than you know him Alana. And I know Will better than that. You may think you’re right about every single thing Alana but I can assure you, you are not.” You whispered. She let out a huff. She can’t imagine herself being wrong.

She walked away.

You sat in the room with Will and Hannibal. You sat on the desk while they sat in the chairs, reminiscent of old times.

“I’ve been so preoccupied with taking a life, I’m having trouble wrapping my head around making one,” he muttered.

“You and Y/N have never discussed it?” You shrugged.

“Not often. We’ve always had other things on our minds,” you admitted. “Just that if it happened it was in the future.”

“When men become fathers, they undergo biochemical changes that affect the way they think,” Hannibal explained.

“You said the same thing happens when men become killers,” Will inquired.

“Fatherhood is not always a nurturing role. Fathers can be killers. In protecting a child, things trapped inside a man for years fly free, ready to explode in pain. And dangerous behavior. What sort of father would you be?” Hannibal questioned.

“He’d be a good father,” you said quietly, answering for him.

“How quickly we form attachments to something that does not yet exist,'' Hannibal whispered. You and Hannibal shared a look.

You stood beside Will at a crime scene. This one was not yours. This was Hannibals. Freddie Lounds was put into a religious figure.

“What connection do Freddie Lounds and Randall Tier have?” Jack asked.

“The Grahams. Randall Tier was their suspect and Hannibal’s patient,” Alana said. She looked to be having a tough time. “Freddie was investigating his murder when she died.

“Freddie was investigating a lot of things when she died,” Will said.

“This is a psychopath who has incubated fantasies of killing is translating them into action. He’s building himself up. Or somebody’s building him up,” Alana said. You and Will shared a look.

Jack Crawford would be showing Alana Bloom Freddie tonight. Freddies body, alive, completely and utterly alive. You and Will did not kill her. Alana was breaking and Jack would show her that you and Will were not the murderers she thought you were.

Technically.

“This is a courtship,” Alana whispered.

When you got word about Margot you were silent. You went with Will to the hospital silently.

You stared at Margot Verger, without a child now, silently.

Hannibal approached you and while Will immediately left you strayed for a moment. You looked over at him and you shared a look.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

“I did nothing but suggest simple actions.” You nodded and grabbed his hand as you turned away. You held it for a moment. Then you followed Will.

Mason Verger watched his pigs. Will walked up to him and held him over the edge. You looked at him, waiting from behind. You had taken out the guard, per request. You didn’t want the child and you were relieved it was gone. That being said, you would likely back Will in anything he wanted to do.

“You think it was Margot’s idea to have an heir? Think it was your idea to take it from her? My idea to come here and kill you? What you, your sister and I all have in common is the same psychiatrist,” Will said. He brought Mason back to the ground and you raised a gun to his head.

“Aren’t you his secretary?” Mason questioned. “Oh you and baby daddy!” He paused. “Margot messed with the wrong throuple.”

“If Hannibal had his dithers, you’d be wrapped around a bullet,” you said. You put the gun down.

“He’s the one you should be feeding to your pigs,” Will finished.

2x12

#hannibal lecter x reader #will graham x reader #will graham imagines #hannibal lecter imagines #hannibal lecter x reader x will graham #will graham x reader x hannibal lecter #hannibal imagines

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spasmsofthought · 4 years ago

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15 years, 15 million tears (i gave it my all, he gave me nothing at all) [thor x reader]

hiiii I’ve been in my feels lately so here you go. maybe more parts to come?????

please forgive any typos or grammar mistakes!

enjoy! xoxo

+++

The pageantry never seems to end, apparently, as Asgardians partake in another feast, overflowing with food and drink, for the third time this week alone. The room is glowing and decadent, reflecting the riches of the people gathered together among the tables and around the pillars in a small area of this magnificent castle. There is laughter and smiles and an overall atmosphere that would be hard to resist if it were your first time at such an event.

It is not.

The merry faces hold sway over you no longer and it is easy to fade into the background while picking at the food that has been placed in front of you by a servant half-captivated by the scene in front of her and smiling politely at those who glance your way.

A boom of laughter comes from the other side of the chamber and it is not hard to guess who it belongs to. Thor Odinson has never been known for silence and his open mouth and wide grin portray his delight as he lifts his mug of ale and drinks yet again. The Warriors Three and other varying courtiers surround him, laughing along heartily. Lady Sif gives a quirk of her lips, playing along for a moment, but otherwise remains more stoic than the rest of the group.

It can be easy to be swept away in the revelry but tonight it just leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. There is no one near you that cares enough to notice when you get up from your seat, leaving your plate half-finished, and wander slowly towards the shadowed corridors hoping for quick exit.

“My dear,” Frigga calls in her soothing voice.

Curse Frigga and her warm heart, for she knows you cannot dismiss her and you have no desire to. She is the Queen of Asgard and your guardian while you remain here in Asgard, and the wisest of all.

“My Queen,” you turn and curtsy as she walks towards you. You can only offer her a slight smile hoping she will let you go soon and dare not ask for you to stay.

“Why do you leave so early into the night? Is something the matter?” There is a concern, as always, in her voice, but something else that you cannot detect hides behind it.

“I simply weary of the night, my lady, and seek rest in my own chamber, ‘tis all.” She comes closer and captures your hands with her own warm ones. Her gaze is loving and for a moment you imagine it would be like your own mother’s if she still lived.

“Is that all?” She reads you like the palm of her hand but you give no answer. “I will have Thor escort you back, it will be no trouble.”

You peer over her shoulder seeing Thor cast a quick glance over to his mother, for it is not often enough he sees you together in public spaces in the presence of so many people. It is the only glance he has spared you in months. You wrench your hands out of hers and hold them up to her in a pleading gesture, “No, please, my lady. He is enjoying his company and I wish to disturb no one. I know the way back to my own room.”

Her eyes pierce yours but she chooses to relent this time, “Very well. May rest come to you tonight.”

Her arms come to smooth over your hair and down to your shoulders, gentle and firm at the same time.

“Good night, my Queen.” You nod and she lets go, allowing you to escape down the corridor into a darkened hallway. You continue to your room as you always have: alone.

+ + +

“I request an audience with my lord Odin Allfather and King of Asgard.” You try to keep your voice from trembling and you think you do well enough. This is not going to be easy, and you think your pacing wore through your bedroom’s carpet this morning.

The throne room has always been grand, gold glinting from Odin’s seat and the weapon in his hand. When you came here years ago, it took everything in you to not cower in sheer fear of speaking to him. Now, the weight of the situation is no less heavy, but Odin is not as intimidating as he once was.

“Speak, child,” his voice says to you after you curtsy in front of the dais.

It is not warm like Frigga’s or boisterous like Thor’s. What little you have heard of Loki’s hold no comparison either. It holds the weight and authority of a king who has reigned longer than you have lived.

“I wish to depart Asgard and return home,” Frigga’s eyes catch yours for a moment and there is something in them that makes you dread this conversation even more than you already do.

“For how long? We will organize guards to accompany you on your journey and set a feast date for when you are to return.”

“My lord, I do not wish to return at all.” The statement hangs in the air and the words echo around the chamber. It is now that you enter into truly dangerous territory.

“And why with so little words do you wish to leave all that has been provided for you here? Foolish child, you do not know of what you wish.” Odin has always been rough around the edges, so you expected such a reaction to your proposal. He spent much time getting exactly what he wanted.

“I know, my lord,” You beg your voice to stay even. It is not a time to test the King of Asgard anymore than you have, “that I can no longer sit idly by, gorging at feasts and drinking to my content, as my father grows old and my older sister fades away to time--”

“You are shortsighted in your vision,” He interrupts adamantly, dismissing your words as if they are from the mouth of a child. But you are not a child and you have not been for a very long time.

“I would continue to be patient,” It is like a spark lights inside of you, “if the Allfather would fulfill what he promised to me and my people decades ago. We gave you our best soldiers and our smiths and you still have yet to betroth me to a prince I came here decades ago to marry.”

“I will tell you the same words I told you when you arrived here and became our ward--”

“If my lord will forgive me,” For all the kindness and grace that has been instilled in you, your time here has taught you to never allow yourself to be spoken over, not even by the King of Asgard, “I have no time to entertain the same empty promises and fanciful notions that brought me here to you. I am the heir to my own throne and I am of no use to my kingdom if I wait endlessly for something that you, King of Asgard, have no intention of actually granting me nor my people. If it means I leave here declaring war, so be it.”

Frigga is wary next to her husband, as she is Queen of Asgard and no longer just someone who cares for you as a mother would. She cannot defy her husband in public, especially when the Court will hear of all of this before the end of day. Odin’s lips are pressed together and it is easy to tell that he is quickly losing what patience he holds with you. But you think your threats have worked well enough for the moment.

“I will grant consideration of this request but I make no promises. My decision will be known to you in the coming days.” He waves his hand at you, a quick and effortless motion.

“My King,” You say begrudgingly though you glare at him as you give a final curtsy. The walk to exit out of the throne room is the longest of your life.

+++

There is a loud knock at your chamber door two days later. The servants have pitied you with sad eyes and hidden frowns meant only for you, but otherwise you wait for news that still does not come. By the weight of the knock, you know it is Thor. There only has been one other time he has come to your door and it was for the feast thrown in your honor as you were welcomed into Asgard 15 years ago. It is funny how little the prince who was promised to marry you has seen you in the span of those years.

He avoids you and everyone knows it.

“What do you seek Thor?” You sigh as you see his face when the door opens. You are tired. His mouth is set in a grim line, which is unusual for him. He barges in with no care to how he may jostle you, which is usual for him.

“I hear you are planning to leave us,” You want to roll your eyes, and behind his back you do. If he is coming here to simply confirm information he has already heard, you have better things to do with your time. “Permanently.”

You stay stationed by your door, leaving it open. He will not be here for long. Your silence has him turning towards you.

“You run as a coward?” He does not understand you in his foolishness, the kind that he seems to refuse to grow out of; he never has.

“I cannot serve my people in a gilded cage waiting for you to grow up, Thor Odinson.” His facial expression startles for a second, as if he does not expect you to have a spine.

“These promises,” He steps closer, confusion furrowing his eyebrows, “they mean so much to you that you would abandon the life that has been made for you here?”

“I have no life here if your father does not keep his word. I leave with his permission or I leave without it. But I am not staying here sheltered like an innocent and dependent little girl.” There is some silence and you still wait by the door.

“I do admire you,” He says. You want to scoff. This is longest conversation you two have ever had, so these words are meaningless.

“Admiration does nothing for my people. And it helps me even less.”

“Would you have even wanted to marry me?” He asks all the wrong questions at all the wrong times.

“Perhaps, Thor,” you shrug as he comes again past you, barely stepping past the threshold, “if things were different and you were more willing to look beyond yourself.”

He looks a little as if you have struck him, but you cannot find it in your heart to ask for any sort of forgiveness. He barely manages a nod to your words.

“I think I would have liked to know you better--”

“But you haven’t, Thor,” And you cannot help but be honest. The words are bitter as acid but they bring a relief. Too long have you bottled everything in. And it’s not like either of you are going to see each other any time soon. “And that is partly why everything is the way that it is. And it is why I must leave.”

“I bid you good fortune, then, my lady,” He says as a farewell before he is briskly making his way down the hallway, as if he cannot get away fast enough.

And you are alone, again, like maybe you were always meant to be.

#avengers #The Avengers #thor #thor x reader #thor x oc #thor x you #thor x y/n #thor x ofc #marvel imagine #thor imagine #thor oneshot #thor marvel #thor odinson #thor odinson x y/n #thor odinson imagine #thor odinson x reader #thor one shot

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deborahdeshoftim5779 · 3 years ago

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Merlin & Arthur’s friendship: clichés versus reality (Part II)

Following on from Merlin & Arthur’s friendship: clichés versus reality Part I, here is part II.

CLAIM #3: Arthur *constantly* denied that Merlin was his friend

This claim assumes that Arthur was 1)- serious when he did deny being friends with Merlin and 2)- unwilling to change that viewpoint.

Arthur had no need to either deny or admit to being friends with Merlin. Even when he said in episode 2x13 that, “I know I’m a Prince, so we can’t be friends,” the implication is that he does want to be friends. After all, he was insisting that Merlin confide in him. This pattern would repeat in many episodes to come.

Bear in mind that Arthur has described other people as friends, too. This includes people we never saw onscreen. A clear example comes from episode 5x05, when Arthur was so moved with grief by Sir Ranulf’s death that he personally led a collection of knights to bring the sorcerer Osgar to justice. He explained to Gwen that “...he was a friend. We knew each other as boys.”

So why would Arthur have trouble admitting that Merlin was his friend? The viewpoint that being more arrogant and prejudiced in the earlier seasons, Arthur would not admit to friendship with a servant, does not hold as much water as some think. As early as episode 2x05, Arthur called Merlin a “true friend”, because he (mistakenly) thought that Merlin was criticising Lady Catrina on his behalf.

Admittedly, the best examples of Arthur accepting Merlin as a friend come from Seasons 4 and 5.

In episode 4x01, Merlin said, “I always thought that if things hadn’t been different, we’d have been good friends.” Arthur’s response? “Yeah.” During the crucial episode 4x03, Merlin sat outside the throne room all right, facing a crossroads between the end of his dreams and remaining loyal to the king. Of course, Arthur had no idea about this, but he appreciated the gesture. “You are a loyal friend, Merlin.” In episode 4x05, Arthur called Merlin “old friend”, which is self-explanatory.

It’s also worth noting that even after claiming in episode 4x05 that he didn’t need friends, when Merlin later said, “I’m your friend!”, Arthur did not disagree.

Now, I could cite the example of episode 4x07, where Arthur said to Merlin, “I’ve had my heart broken once today. I don’t want to lose another friend.” Self-explanatory. But was this proof of their friendship? No. Arthur was essentially threatening to end his friendship with Merlin if the latter continued criticising Agravaine. Later, in episode 4x11, Arthur again threatened to banish Merlin for the second time (thus ending their friendship) if he accused Agravaine of treason again. This once again shows how Arthur associated loyalty with family first.

One of the best examples comes from episode 4x13: “I came back because you’re the only friend I have, and I couldn’t bear to lose you.” Is Merlin Arthur’s only friend? No. However, out of all Arthur’s friends, Merlin was his best friend, and losing almost everyone and everything else made him realise that yet again.

Then we have all the actions which prove Arthur considered Merlin as a friend.

For example relied on Merlin’s opinion, as Princess Mithian rightly observed in episode 4x11. “One thing I’ve learned since being here is that Arthur values your opinion above almost all others.”

He complained about Merlin’s periods of silence and broodiness, like in episode 3x05: “Come on: I’m missing your usual prattle!” In episode 3x09, after noting that Merlin was upset, he said, “For goodness’ sake, what is your problem?”

Another example comes from episode 5x01, where Arthur noted Merlin sitting outside the camp and took the time to find out why he was “so upset”.

The example from episode 5x05 is self-explanatory: “Seriously, I haven’t seen you smile these past three days.” Arthur relies on Merlin’s cheerfulness to remain optimistic, because he faces the constant threat of death. Notice that shortly after Merlin’s sombre mood, Arthur stopped dismissing Osgar’s warnings about The Disir.

As if this were not enough, look at Arthur spending downtime with Merlin. A great example comes from episode 3x04, where Arthur decides on “a nice, cold tankard of mead” after hunting. In episode 3x13, both were sitting on the courtyard steps discussing the future of the kingdom. Even despite his strenuous denials and ingratitude in episode 4x05, you can see Arthur gesture for Merlin to sit down the morning after they captured Caerleon.

What about all the hunting trips? Arthur knows that Merlin hates hunting (in fact, he takes pleasure in this fact), yet still brought him along, as episodes 1x13, 3x04, 4x11, 5x03, and 5x11 show.

By far my favourite example comes from episode 5x12, when Arthur and Merlin were playing dice at the tavern. (I don’t know iwhat this game was called.) In my view, this happened regularly. Why else would the common people watch and laugh while Merlin poked fun at their king? (Percival’s face was classic.) And why was Arthur playing against Merlin? When did Merlin learn how to play dice? Who taught him? When?

Obviously, I do not know, but it’s worth asking.

Despite being speechless after Merlin “won” the game, Arthur let Merlin “win” all of his money. (Clearly, Arthur was the better player: “Feel free to retire at any time.” The king only used theatrics to get the right dice roll, while Merlin cheated with magic each time. If Merlin hadn’t “coughed”, then Arthur would have rolled correctly a second time. Hence why Arthur said beforehand, “Enjoy this moment, Merlin… while it lasts.”)

Look at Arthur, who was dressed in a plain shirt, rather than his armour and cloak. When we put this scene in conjunction with episode 3x04, where Arthur again wore plain clothes, we can see that he enjoyed these moments of normality. “There’s no better place to measure the mood of your people than the local tavern… I’m just a simple peasant like everybody else.”

So where is this strenuous denial? Nowhere. Arthur never constantly denied that Merlin was his friend. Nor did he only admit this in secret, otherwise the great dice scene in episode 5x12 would never have happened. Sure, the people might have been astonished to see their great king playing against a servant, but they must also have known that if Arthur allowed himself to be “beaten” at a game by his servant, the latter must be his friend.

CLAIM #4: Merlin was usually/always (in the) right

Wrong. Being right most of the time does not mean being right all of the time. Merlin failed to realise this, and consequently made grievous errors throughout the series. The most grievous errors came when he tried to fight against death. Episode 3x05 shows this; all of the grief and pain suffered by Arthur, Gwen, and Uther stemmed from Merlin mortally injuring Morgana in a bid to prevent her from killing the king.

He effectively ignored the warning to “use what you see for good.”

Then we have the example to end all examples; Merlin’s recklessness, presumptuousness, bold-faced hypocrisy, coldness, prejudice, and most of all, jealousy towards Sir Mordred.

Even as early as episode 1x08, Merlin almost let the boy Mordred die on account of a prophecy. At least back then he questioned it before hiding in bed like a coward. Mordred also blamed Merlin for Uther’s carnage in episode 2x11, though in the case of that episode and episode 2x03, I think Merlin’s actions were no worse than presumptuous.

It gets far worse in episode 5x02, when Merlin yelled, “You should have killed him!”, to which Arthur rightly said, “What is wrong with you?” Mordred saw that he could not jump across the gorge, so he surrendered and walked away. (He probably knew that Arthur would arrive in Ismere soon, as his later conversation with Morgana demonstrates.)

Later on, Arthur gave Merlin another strange look after Merlin said, “I told you, you should have killed him when you had the chance.” How could someone usually so compassionate insist on executing a man who stopped threatening them?

Remember how Merlin reacted to Arthur killing Caerleon in episode 4x05, despite having plenty of evidence that Caerleon was a threat to Arthur’s life?

By the way, episodes 5x01 and 5x02 are my favourite examples of Merlin being horrendously wrong. Other episodes include 5x05, and the crucial errors he made in episode 5x11. (I watched most of episode 5x11 last Sunday, and I was floored. It shook me more than 5x12 and 5x13, which I had also been avoiding for years.)

Going back to episodes 5x01 and 5x02 (because episode 5x11 is too depressing): if Arthur had listened to Merlin’s “advice”, he would have abandoned his knights to a slow death in slavery. He would also have committed murder, simply on Merlin’s say-so. If you kill someone who is defenceless and has surrendered, that is murder-- regardless of whether, like Merlin, you are desperately scared of a prophecy and speaking without thinking.

Also, if Arthur had rushed back to Camelot on Merlin’s say-so, he might well have been assassinated by Ruadan.

Most of all, almost everything that Merlin “advised” violated Arthur’s core beliefs-- the very beliefs that made Merlin respect Arthur in the first place. It’s astonishing that Arthur had to explain no less than five times that he would never abandon any of his men, otherwise he would be abandoning his own values and the values that built Camelot.

So desperate is Merlin to fight against death that he either quietly ignores this advice, or claims he agrees, only to try dissuading Arthur later on.

Just to be clear: I perfectly understand that beneath all Merlin’s horrible advice and prevarication, he does not want to lose his friend.

However, just watch Merlin’s marvellous inconsistency throughout episode 5x01. First, he plays Devil’s Advocate by asking Arthur, “Do you really think Gwaine and Percival could still be alive?” Arthur says he has to find out, because they are knights of Camelot. Merlin says, “I understand.” Of course he did.

Bear in mind that this happened before Merlin learned of the prophecy. Some have therefore asked what made Merlin unwilling to look for the missing knights, who were his friends.

In Annis’ castle, Merlin said, “I’m not sure we should go to Ismere.” On the other hand, Arthur, acting on reliable information that Morgana had rounded up slaves, took this as a sign that his mission was right. Merlin tried arguing, then gave up. One might assume that after two rational explanations, Merlin would see reason, particularly since even Kilgharrah could not confirm that the fated battle would take place.

But no. After the knights left Annis’ lands, Merlin complained again that Morgana was “powerful… dangerous.” So, Arthur explained yet again that “no matter what lies ahead of me, I won’t abandon them.” Merlin respected this answer, because he said, “I understand. I wish I didn’t-- but I do.” (Why does he wish he did not understand why Arthur would risk his life for all of his soldiers?)

But the very next day, after the ambush, Merlin turned to rage: “The two of us against Morgana, are you mad?” He tried stopping Arthur from going any further. So Arthur explained himself again. Consequently, Merlin continued following Arthur.

The very same night, he once again insisted that, “We have to turn back.” Arthur explained himself yet again, and Merlin promised to “protect you or die at your side.”

Which one is it? Not to mention that in episode 5x02, instead of apologising for his carelessness, Merlin said, “And I told you to go back to Camelot.” This is silly, given that Arthur had already refused to return on numerous occasions until he had rescued his men, assuming they were still alive.

The most hilarious example comes later, when Merlin says, “We can’t let them hand us over to Morgana: we need to get out of here, we need a plan.” But when Arthur comes up with that plan, what does Merlin say? “You’ve got to be joking!”, “You should have killed him!”, “Next time, we might not be so lucky.”, “We’ll never make it in there.”, and “How did you talk me into this?”

Again, which one is it?

I know why Merlin behaved this way, of course. However, there’s a difference between the noble goal of protecting your friend, and ignoring everything and everyone else in order to reach that goal-- particularly through controlling means. Throughout the series, Merlin’s biggest fault comes from his controlling tendencies, which always backfire. And he never learns.

In this way, Merlin shackled Arthur with unrealistic expectations about a Golden Age based on prophecies that he could not verify. Somehow, this Golden Age had now become evading Arthur’s death. He wanted Arthur to share that belief. Worse, even while his motives came from a noble goal, he treated other people as expendable.

Another example of Merlin’s absurd reasoning comes from the fateful episode 5x05. Putting aside the fact that Merlin tried claming that sentencing Mordred to die was an acceptable price to pay “for Camelot”, he also previously claimed that, “I do care. About who you are, Arthur. Who you are destined to become.”

This makes zero sense, given that Arthur had already taken the throne and “brought peace to the kingdom” (episode 5x03). What more did he have to achieve? It depends on who you ask: bringing back magic, uniting the five kingdoms, eternal peace, avoiding the prophecy about Mordred, bowing to the Triple Goddess, being the greatest king this land has ever known…

Can you see how unrealistic this is? Moreover, can you see how Merlin used Arthur as a vehicle of his own unrealistic ambitions? This is why the Golden Age never happened: it was a myth. It allowed the Druids, Gaius, Kilgharrah, etc. to live vicariously through the new king.

Bringing back magic was impossible while Morgana continued using it for great evil. (And the Triple Goddess, who complained about Arthur persecuting sorcery, allowed Morgana to continue that evil conduct.)

Arthur did take considerable steps to uniting the kingdoms, particularly when he signed a treaty with King Odin in episode 5x04. But eternal peace? Impossible, otherwise episodes 5x01 and 5x02 would not have happened.

The unbiquitous prophecy about Mordred was never backed by evidence, leaving Merlin in a state of constant paranoia, and causing him to make horrible errors. This despite the fact that, by his own admission, “I like him [Mordred] myself.” [1]

Bowing to the Triple Goddess was nothing but blackmail using Mordred’s life as a bargaining chip. This once again shows how many sorcerers had caused chaos and misery. Remember, this same Triple Goddess used torture techniques such as controlling people’s minds using the Fomorroh, as Morgana explained in episode 4x06.

While I believe that the persecution of peaceful sorcerers was wrong, Arthur had no quarrel with the Druids (episode 5x11), and he still had good reason for banning sorcery (also explained in episode 5x11). Nobody, not even Merlin, gave him a reason to change his mind. Kara definitely did not, for she wasn’t executed for being a Druid: she was executed for murder and attempted murder.

As for being the greatest king this land had ever known… Well, Arthur appreciated that statement in episode 4x12. However, when Merlin spoke of the greatest kingdom in the world in episode 4x13, Arthur said, “You’re making this up.”

In episode 5x01, Merlin claimed that, “Arthur, without you, Camelot is nothing.” Arthur disagreed, saying that abandoning his men was worse than surviving Morgana. Even in episode 5x04, Arthur accepted his death. “So be it. But understand this, Odin: you kill me, and you’ll have all of Camelot to answer to.” Odin was astonished that a king could have such confidence in the face of death.

The most important example comes from episode 5x13. Merlin said the same thing about Camelot being nothing without Arthur, to which the dying king said, “There was a time when that was true. Not now. There are many who can fill the crown.” And of course, he gave the royal seal to Gwen. Can anyone argue with this?

I guess you could say that Arthur didn’t believe his own hype.

Indeed, Arthur felt satisfied about what he had achieved in his life. “Everything you’ve done, I know now. For me, for Camelot. For the kingdom you helped me build.” (Episode 5x13). That was it. Arthur knew that he had changed Camelot for the better, that Merlin killing his half-sister had brought “peace at last”, and that he owed Merlin an unpayable debt for helping him to achieve all of these goals.

Why did Arthur accept the certainty of his death for so long? Because he believed his cause was right, and his death would help save the lives of thousands in Camelot. Dying in service to Camelot was his real destiny. It was inevitable, and to him, it was the most honourable act he would ever undertake.

You cannot know how great you will be until you die. “That’s the way things work, I’m afraid. You get the glory when you’re not around to appreciate it.” (Episode 4x06). At that point, you will never see your legacy. Merlin either did not know that, or he did not want to know it.

Arthur’s death ultimately serves as the greatest evidence that Merlin was wrong the whole time.

TO BE CONTINUED IN PART III

FOOTNOTES

[1] I don’t doubt that Merlin liked Mordred. In fact, the scene in episode 5x05, where Merlin buried Osgar, shows how difficult it was for him to maintain his mistrust when the druid was so polite and perceptive. So why the contradiction? Why claim you like someone, yet insist that they would commit regicide? The answer is that Merlin used the prophecy as an excuse. In fact, his prejudice against Mordred had more to do with jealousy than the prophecy. After being involved in an attempt to trade Arthur and Merlin as slaves to Morgana, Arthur knighted the druid for one noble act. Did Merlin aspire to be a knight? I don’t know. He definitely wanted that same level of trust and respect given to Mordred, though, and knighthood created a bond that a servant could not have.

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ask-iamnotanalicorn · 4 years ago

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Previous: The Flim Flam Timeline

The Wasteland Timeline:

This is the story of when Equestria fell.

And this it the story of when Equestria rose again.

The trials began as they always do: with the return of Nightmare Moon. The celestial sisters clashed, and Celestia fell. Heedless of the struggle it would be to keep the Sun set with its alicorn princess banished inside it, Nightmare Moon did just that, determined that her traitorous sister experience Nightmare’s punishment.

Nightmare’s reign of Equestria was strained, but Equestria could have borne it. But within a year, the capital was attacked by the Changelings, desperate to replenish their stores of pony love that had been stymied by the nation’s state of fear and uncertainty. Nightmare Moon was barely managing to repel the threat when the Crystal Empire returned, and King Sombra began to march on her northern borders. With attacks from within and attacks from without, a distrusted leader on the throne, and economic failure rippling across the country as readily as the shifting front lines, the ponies of Equestria were more torn than ever.

So of course that’s when Discord escaped.

The upside of Discord’s release was that it temporarily stopped the fighting. Even King Sombra was smart enough to withdraw in the face of the mad draconequus on a quest of vengeance against all ponies. Queen Chrysalis and Queen Nightmare Moon (who had absconded herself at first sign of Discord’s escape, using every possible trick to keep him from finding her) formed a temporary peace treaty in order to seek a solution - for a world ruled by Discord was useless to all of them. (Granted, the Changelings could withdraw to their protected realm, but Chrysalis had tasted power and wasn’t about to let Discord have it all. She was quite looking forward to stabbing Nightmare Moon in the back afterwards.)

Their solution: a magical contract with the long-imprisoned centaur, Tirek. Tirek was more than happy to oblige. He single-handedly decimated Sombra’s troops, gorging himself on the magic of Crystal Empire and Equestrian ponies alike. It is possible that, if Discord hadn’t come to see what all the fuss was about himself, Tirek would have kept right on gorging to the very limit of the contract that bound him.

When the two titans clashed, the battle that ensued sundered hundreds of miles of landscape. Canterlot bore the greatest brunt; the castle collapsed completely from its cliffside home, the city little more than ruins. Discord’s attacks spread wildly unpredictable waves of chaos magic across much of Equestria. And when at long last Tirek had defeated him and sucked him dry, the lingering effects of that chaos magic stayed rooted in the ground like weeds.

It seemed, for the briefest moment, as if the worst problem was over. But of course, a power-maddened Tirek is a worse threat - because at least Discord doesn’t go out of his way to destroy everything in sight. Drunk on chaos magic, Tirek easily broke the tenuous contract with the queens and set across the landscape, draining ponies by the thousands and carving swaths through the countryside for the sheer wicked joy of destruction. His power was even mighty enough to destroy the changeling hive, overpowering its magical protections.

There was no choice - the two remaining rulers of any species in the land had to either defeat their own creation or face the loss of all they held dear. Nightmare Moon called upon the power of the Moon itself, drawing it nearer to Equestria in a desperate gambit. Tidal waves rocked Equestria’s coastlines, submerging Manehattan and other coastal cities entirely, and the alicorn of the night shone with deadly moonlit radiance as she bombarded Tirek with the full brunt of her power. But even Nightmare Moon at the height of her power was not strong enough to stop Tirek at the height of his, and he struck her down against the surface of the Moon itself. Some of the dislodged chunks rained down on the world, damaging more of not only Equestria, but many other countries on that side of the planet.

Tirek seemed to have won; all he had left to deal with was one small, angry changeling queen. An assured victory, no doubt.

He could not have known how wrong he was. For a changeling might give its magic willingly to a spell like Tirek’s with no ill effects, but an unwilling changeling queen will not be robbed of her power easily. As Tirek’s powers drain magic, so changeling powers drain love - and no one in all the world had such self-love as Tirek. The cycle of Tirek draining her magic and Chrysalis draining his became a self-consuming spell spiral that ultimately imploded upon itself, taking both creatures with it.

The resulting explosion could be heard across the celestial sea. For a few moments, there was something like an artificial sun on the horizon - a sun that had set directly on Equestria.

Then came the silence. After three years of war, devastation, and disasters unlike any the world had ever seen, there was silence.

And as the silence stretched, the survivors stirred.

Earth ponies, pegasi, unicorns, crystal ponies, and zebras; yaks, cows, goats, donkeys, and buffalo; gryphons, dragons, hippogryphs, minotaurs, and changelings: in spite of everything, many had survived. They rose from their hiding places to find an Equestria and Crystal Empire in ruins. No major cities still stood; borders and coastlines were unrecognizable. Large swaths of land once green and lush were barren and blasted, and spots of chaos magic lay in wait for creatures unwise enough to enter them unprotected. The moon hung wrecked in a dark sky, shining in shattered glory down on the devastation that had been the once-rich land of Equestria.

But the great destroyers were gone. None of the titans and tyrants who had brought this destruction down on the country remained. The usual monsters hardly seemed a threat anymore; those who had survived thus far had learned to cope with far worse. They could build new settlements, make new ways of life, come together or fall apart on their own merits.

And the most hopeful sign of all came the next day. The first actual day since Nightmare Moon returned and the Thousand Days of Woe began:

The Sun - weak and red in the dust-filled sky - slowly rose over the horizon.

The Princess of the Sun had not returned yet; perhaps she is still trapped by her sister’s spell. Perhaps another way of escape is being laid. But the light fills the ponies’ hearts with hope.

The Equestria they knew is gone. But the New Equestria has a future.

____

Sunday, Aug.10, 4 A.C.

Dear Journal,

It’s really strange dating things this way; but with everything that’s happened, most folks agree it’ll be easier to date our calendars starting with the fall of Princess Celestia. ‘After Celestia’ sounds so grim, though; kinda hope we change it. Maybe when the Princess returns... we’re praying she does.

Anyway, I still can’t believe we found a whole stock of blank paper in the storerooms! We’re saving most of it for bartering, but Mom thinks it’s smart for one of us to make notes for posterity, so it looks like I get to keep you. I’ll try to be short to save space, but it just feels so good to write again!

The move into the Canterlot ruins ruins is going pretty well. A few other families joined us after our last trip to Apple Fort, and we’ve shored up our defenses in case the air pirates make another flyby. Pop and I negotiated a deal with the Apples - food in exchange for books. A few of the unicorns know replication spells and are using some of the paper to make copies of really important texts so we don’t lose valuable knowledge to an accident. It still blows my mind how much we’ve lost in... was life really normal only a few years ago? It feels like another lifetime that I was in this very city, talking to the Princess, sitting at a normal cafe... eating lunch with Cam and Press...

I don’t want to forget them. Camera Shy and Pressing Matters, my best friends. Maybe they’re still out there somewhere. We run into old friends every now and then - my old traveling salespony gig has come in handy, actually! I’ve found a bunch of people who used to be clients, it really helps with forming trade and peace treaties with other groups. So it could happen. Please, Prince, keep them safe wherever they are.

I’m really blessed, though. I have to remember that. I have Mom and Pop and Black and Per and Chewie - although I’m still not used to Chewie flying and talking now. She’s such a character. Lots of ponies are missing family - so are we, we haven’t been able to find most of the extended family, but Pop got word from Aunt Pitter that she and my cousin Light Drizzle are out west somewhere, and Pitch Apple is down at Apple Fort, thank the King.

And we could be worse! We made friends with a tinkerer named Steam Punk, he made me a new wing that works as good as my old one! (Not a HUGE bar to cross, but it’s still really impressive!) I’m talking him into working with me to start a production house that can make and sell them affordably to other handicapped pegasi. And Mom got her flight back thanks to a gem Black and some other mages crafted. I think she still misses her diving mark, but she’s so brave and optimistic, it really inspires everyone. I wish we could do something for Pop’s horn, but he’s finding other ways to help out. Per is... well, I guess if you’re going to get turned into a pony-dragon, you’d want to be as cheerful about it as Per. Who knows, maybe she’ll still get a cutie mark someday! And Black is fully aware that he looks pretty boss with an eyepatch, the dork.

There’s rumors that Princess Cadance might be alive and organizing the crystal ponies up North; lots of ponies are heading that way, but I think our group will stay here. There’s a lot of resources in the Canterlot ruins and in the castle, although Black leads the expeditions into the castle because of safety issues. I never knew he was so good at exploration and such; guess there were a few skills he was holding out on us over the years, but turns out he was working for the Princess before! What in Equus, I gave him such an earful for being all secretive about being my bodyguard or whatever.

I’m running out of page, so I’ll wrap up today. We’re holding a worship service later, Pop and Parson Brown are setting it up. We want to keep focusing on what we have to be thankful for. We are GOING to get through this. The King, the Prince, and the Advocate have not abandoned us, and we have each other.

~Salespitch

----

Fun Facts About The Wasteland Timeline:

- This was my favorite timeline to draw =D I HAD to get some steampunk stuff in there, although there are definitely Mad Max vibes. The convenient thing about this timeline is that it was a literal blank slate, so I could really get creative with it! I feel like this would make a neat bookmark, what do ya’ll think?

- I tried to reference all the major villains in the picture. Extra shoutout to ReversalMushroom, the patron who sponsored this Alternate Timeline Special, for giving me the ideas for the changeling goo and Tirek’s hoofprints, which were added in during the coloring phase. I think they round it out quite nicely!

- The random bit of Candy Forest over the crevice there is one of the pockets left behind by Discord’s chaos magic going wild. Most ponies avoid it because here’s WEIRD stuff in there, and ponies who go in there usually come out a little weirder themselves.

- Black lost his eye and half his sunglasses in a fight with some Changelings. He gets on quite well with only one eye, though, and he insists his sunglass-lens eyepatch is going to be the height of eyepatch fashion. (He DOES have a sense of humor in case anyone doubted it. ;) ) Black taught everyone basic survival techniques and does most of the more dangerous tasks.

- Sales lost his wing during Tirek’s rampage; he tried to distract Tirek, but they didn’t have time to make the plan from the Tirek timeline, so he got swatted pretty quickly. On the upside, Tirek lost sight of him and didn’t get his magic. Sales can fly about as well now with his new steampunk wing, which combines technology and magic to mimic low-level pegasus flight (which was where he was at anyway, so he made a great first test subject!) Sales’ main job is negotiating peaceful trades with other groups.

- Sales Patter (Dad) lost his horn while pushing his wife out of the way of some falling rubble. He insists he was only mediocre at magic anyway, and he doesn’t need a horn to do business! He does miss it, though. He helps their new community with allocating resources.

- Pitch Forward (Mom) lost her magic and cutie mark to Tirek’s onslaught. The gem in her coat simulates flight for her, although not quite at the level she was before. She and Sales joke about how he can almost beat her in a race now. She helps with the kids in their small community and teaches flying techniques to pegasi.

- Pitch Perfect got hit with a random blast of Discord magic that turned her half dragon. It took a little getting used to, but she honestly thinks it is super neat. She’s pretty good at sniffing out gems now, which (when she isn’t eating them) helps with family finances. Her friends Codebreak and Castle Crasher are part of their little community, and the three are constantly getting into trouble (which most everyone silently thinks of as a nice bit of familiarity.)

- Chewie ALSO got Discord’d; she has fairy wings now and she can talk. Chewie still likes Sales the best and hovers around him chattering like Navi half the time. The other half of the time she forgets she has wings and just hops around exploring. At this point she’s become less like a pet and more like another tiny sister, to Per’s delight and everyone else’s raised anxiety levels. She is VERY aware of her surroundings and alerts the group to intruders and strangers. She really misses computer games.

- Princess Celestia will eventually return, although by that time I feel that the various groups gathering together will have formed something like a decent society again. It remains to be seen if they’ll go back to a monarchy, create a government of connected micronations, or turn into something like the United States.

- And yes, Camera Shy, Pressing Matters, and Press’s husband Curler are all alive. They’ll meet up someday!

---

A/N: Thank you all for joining me on this journey through time and space to explore the seven MLP timelines and where Sales & Co might have ended up in them! I hope you enjoyed it; I had a good bit of fun coming up with the different scenarios, it was a great brain exercise. =D Thank you again to all my Patrons, and to ReversalMushroom for sponsoring this particular special! There will be a final post next week of all the pictures together, with links back to their storyline posts.

I also want to thank you for bearing with me as the regular updates continue to be on hiatus. This has been a rough and strange year for all of us, and I hope you all are safe and healthy and know that you are loved. Jesus has really been with me through this year, and even tonight as I write this; there are things I struggle with, but I know that they do not define my value, HE does. =) And I, like Sales, want to count my blessings, the biggest one (aside from my faith in God) being that I have family around me who love me and care for me. I’m very much looking forward to Christmas! =D

Merry Christmas! May your Christmas and New Year contain joy and peace, and may Christ Jesus rest His hands on you and draw your heart to His. In Jesus’ Name, amen.

~River Babble

#mlp ask blog #pony ask blog #tirek #sombra #nightmare moon #Queen Chrysalis #mlp discord #IANAA #Salespitch

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abigailadams1788 · 5 years ago

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Humans are Space Orcs: DON’T EAT THAT!!

So I’ve been obsessed with the whole “Humans Are Space Orcs” thing for a while but I haven’t had an idea to add to it until tonight. I don’t know if this has been done before but here’s what happened: I was texting my brother and he mentioned watching this video of a guy who was eating his leftovers in the styrofoam to-go container. Like, eating it styrofoam and all.

You’re probably like “You idiot don’t eat that!” and my next thought was “What if an alien reacted to that?”

Cause here’s the thing: we’ve all seen the posts of humans eating anything. We consume caffeine by the gallon in the mornings just to stay awake. We eat chocolate by the pound cause it tastes good and lifts our mood (don’t act like you didn’t gorge on that chocolate pie/cake at Thanksgiving. We all know you snuck that third piece when no one was looking.) We consume fruits that have cyanide-filled seeds. Hell pineapple is toxic if it’s unripe but we put it on pizza and salads anyways. It’ll burn our tongue anyways but we still eat it.

So naturally, aliens are in this mode of “Humans can eat just about anything. They come from this major Deathworld; why wouldn’t they eat everything? They already said “Fuck you” to the natural order of predation. Might as well have an appetite to facilitate that.” So just imagine this:

Xa’var shuffled into the mess hall after a long what xis human counterparts would say day. Xa’var had been up since the first shift and was just now getting something to eat. It wasn’t easy, being the liaison for xis’ council and the humans, but it was a job Xa’var took pride in.

Laughter caught Xa’var’s attention. The humans that xe had come to consider friends were hunched over a holo-device, laughing at whatever they were watching. Curiosity arose in Xa’var’s mind. It was always a fortuitous occasion to learn more about xis’ counterparts. It could even be a new report to make to add to the “How To Deal With Humans 101″ handbook. Xa’var used xis main tentacles to walk over to the humans’ table.

“Hello, Human Rachel. Hello, Human Todd. Might I inquire as to what it is you are watching?”

“Oh, Xa’var! Didn’t see you come in.” Rachel bared- smiled- there were still many things to get used to about the behaviors of humans- at xim and moved over so Xa’var could lean down comfortably. “Todd was showing me this video of this idiot eating his leftovers with his to-go box.”

Xa’var leaned down and focused one of his eyes on the holo-device while the other watched the reactions of the humans. On the screen, one human male was eating a white contraption that appeared to have rations in it. Other humans were telling him to cease the action, but he seemed to not believe them. Todd and Rachel seemed to be very amused, though the humor was lost on Xa’var.

“I am confused.” Todd wiped his eyes- note to add to the handbook: humans cry when laughing.- and looked up at Xa’var. “What is the human doing wrong?”

“Dude.” Rachel snorted, seemingly trying to not laugh. “You don’t eat styrofoam. Everyone knows that.”

Xa’var was astounded. He had believed that humans could eat anything.

Xa’var remembered when someone had accidentally spilled another’s ration on xim. The result was an extended stay in the medical wing because the acids in the foods had almost burned through xis carapace.

When Human Rachel came to check on xim and asked to see the rations, they were brought in for her inspection. To Xa’var’s horror, after smelling the rations, Rachel had taken a rather large helping and eaten it.

Instead of immediately convulsing and screaming in pain, as what had happened with Xa’var, Rachel simply moved her shoulders in a movement that Xa’var recognized as a shrug and said: “Could’ve used a little more spice.” When Xa’var had inquired as to how she could handle the acidity of the food, she had laughed and commented that her mother- the human term for egg-layer, since apparently humans weren’t hatched- used to make something called a curry that burned when one ate it. Xa’var had made a note that night to his council to avoid the human food known as curry at all costs.

“You... you mean humans can’t eat everything?” Xa’var knew it was not the most tactful approach, but the fact that the man was being seen as an apparent imbecile for eating his food container seemed to Xa’var to be a type of prank. Surely they weren’t serious about it?

Both Human Rachel and Human Todd lifted the hair above their eyes- eyebrows, Xa’var mentally corrected- in surprise. “Who told you we could?” Todd asked.

“I...” Xa’var felt xis skin start to flush with embarrassment. “It has been believed for a long time that humans can eat anything.”

“Well...” Human Todd leaned back in his chair. “I mean, we technically can eat anything, but there are things we shouldn’t. Does that make sense?”

“I am afraid it does not. Could you please elaborate?” Hunger temporarily forgotten, Xa’var lowered into a neighboring chair, tucking his tentacles under xis carapace to facilitate a comfortable position; new information was always worth giving one’s full attention.

“So here’s the thing: our stomach contains something called hydrochloric acid, which is largely responsible for breaking down everything we eat and converting it into energy, basic nutrients, proteins, you get the idea.” Xa’var nodded along, a habit xe picked up from xis human counterparts as a body language that communicates understanding. “Now we humans measure the acidity level of acids on what we call a ph scale. It runs 1 to 14. 7 is neutral, with numbers above it being alkaline in nature and numbers below 7 running acidic. The lower the number it is, the more acidic it is. 6 is more acidic than 7, 5 more than 6, and so on.”

“I see, I see.” Xa’var nodded again, enraptured now. Xe had been educated on the different scales humans use to measure things, so xe knew what a ph scale. Though, for xis people, 7 was actually capable of causing severe burns. A 4 could sear through a warrior’s carapace with ease, while anything less than a 3 was guaranteed death.

“So where does a human’s acid level fall?” In the back of Xa’var’s second brain, the knowledge that could come from this could be useful in avoiding injury should a human’s internal organs were exposed during a battle. Given a human’s resilience, xe wouldn’t be surprised if that happened at some point and the human continued to fight.

“It depends,” Rachel spoke now. “If someone hasn’t eaten in a while, the acid in their stomach might level out at about a 4, but while they’re eating it’ll go up to a 2 or even a 1.” Xa’var felt xis eyestalks retract slightly in horror. “Lemon juice is typically considered a 2, so if that helps put in perspective.”

“Y-yes. But I am still confused as to what you meant by “shouldn’t eat”.” Xa’var cleared xis throat, trying to not let the rising horror be exposed. Levels out at a 4?!? Rises to a 1 while they were eating!?! A 1 would melt the carapace and internal organs of his people with ease and continue destroying until it was neutralized, but this happened as a natural occurrence within a human’s stomach?? Multiple times a day!?!

“Ah, yeah. Well, I guess it’s kind of like what happened with you a couple weeks ago.” Rachel shrugged, crossing her arms. Xa’var recognized the body language as bored, not hostile. It was a fine nuance, but one xe was proud xe could spot the difference in. “Humans can eat virtually anything cause our stomach is so acidic it will kill virtually any virus or bacteria that enter with our food on contact, with very few exceptions. Even then we can fight through most illnesses and poisonings as long as we keep our immune system up.

“That said, there are some things we just shouldn’t eat because it provides no nutritional value to us. Styrofoam is one of those things. Glass, plastic, rubber, paper,” Rachel shrugged again. “We can eat all of those things, as evidenced by people who do, but we shouldn’t because they don’t provide the nutrition our body needs.”

“So, what you are saying is that, while humans are perfectly capable of consuming anything, but chose to not because of nutrition concerns?” Xa’var felt the inquiry sounded more absurd spoken than it did in xis head. To xis surprise, Human Todd and Human Rachel nodded.

“Pretty much. We can sometimes get what we call “acid reflux”, which is when the acid in our stomach rises into our esophagus. This is caused by allergies or a malfunction of the internal blocker we have to prevent that from happening, but it’s rare. Usually it’s caused when we eat something that doesn’t sit well with us and causes an imbalance in our stomach acid.” Human Todd confirmed.

“And this is not dangerous?”

“Oh no, it definitely can be.” Rachel commented far too nonchalantly for Xa’var’s comfort. “Usually it’s just uncomfortable, but it does burn like a bitch. It’s why we start crying whenever we throw up. Our esophagus doesn’t have the natural lining our stomach does to protect it from the acids, so the acids literally burn away our throat. Some people have burned a hole in their throat because of acid reflux. Most of the time though that can be fixed with a simple dietary change, though some people have to take medicine to help balance out their ph levels.”

Xa’var’s brains were reeling. Not only was the initial belief confirmed (humans can indeed eat anything), but they were capable of doing so because their internal organs contained an acid strong enough to melt his carapace! It could even burn the humans’ own throats but they treated it like it was nothing!

“Are you alright, Xa’var?” Xa’var blinked. Rachel was staring at xim with an expression xe recognized as concern. “You’re white.” Looking down, Xa’var realized xe was indeed white; xis people’s skin changed color based on emotions. Apparently, the horror xe felt was enough to cause xis body to involuntarily react and try to camouflage xim with the surrounding tables and chairs.

“Y-yes. I am fine, Human Rachel.”

“You sure? Have you eaten anything today?”

“I, have not. I will go do so now. Thank you for telling me this information.”

Rachel and Todd watched as Xa’var maneuvered out of the mess. Despite xis words, xe was going the opposite way of the food. “What’s his problem?” Rachel asked.

“I dunno. Maybe a long shift?”

“Maybe.”

Little did they know that Xa’var was heading to xis quarters to not only update the “How To Deal With Humans 101″ manual, xe was also going to send a very important message to his council about the truth of a human’s terrifying ability to eat anything.

Follow my writing Tumblr @the-red-dragon-queen for any and all new writing posts!!

#humans are space orcs #humans can eat anything #humans are weird #humans are space australians #humans are strange #humans are terrifying #humans are the weird ones #thought dump #this came out of nowhere #i like it though

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slashingdisneypasta · 4 years ago

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Edward Nygma (Pre Riddler) x Fem!Reader || Oneshot

Title: Blind Double Date

Plot:

You and your friend Mia have decided to have a sort of blind double date thing together where you find a date for her and she finds one for you. You’ve decided to ask Ed; The harmless, cute forensics guy at work.

Warnings: FULL FLUFF

~~~

“Good morning Ed!” As you walk into the forensics lab, you quickly find your target in the corner eating his breakfast with gloves and his goggles on. An amused smile struggles to find its place on your mouth but you try to hide it- funny guy, Ed is.

But that doesn’t mean theirs anything wrong with him. You honestly have never understood why anyone would bully him- all he does is his job! And he bares riddles, too! What’s not to appreciate? You happen to like listening to his riddles and giving them a go, even if most of the time the answer evades you. It still tickles you when he tells you, and it makes him happy to get to ask them, too.

Plus, he isn’t bad to look at, and he’s very sweet.

Which is why you’ve chosen him to ask as Mia’s date tonight. Yes tonight. You’ve left it, in pure homework-style, to the last minute to find a guy and ask him. But you’re pretty sure she’s done the same thing, so you don’t feel too bad. You just hope you can butter Ed up enough that he says yes!

“Good morning Miss L/N.” Ed smiles, giving a little waive as he sets his McMuffin back down on a little plate of glad wrap on the corner bench so he can talk to you.

You’re aware of his unfortunate feelings for Kristen -unfortunate because she doesn’t share these feelings, -, which of course could prove an obstacle… but like you said! You plan to butter him up plenty before popping the question. “Any riddles today?”

He beams. “Yes, I do, in fact. Would you like to hear it?”

“’Course!”

“If you drop me, I’m sure to crack. But, smile at me and I’ll be sure to smile back. What am I?”

With only a moment of thought, you set your fists on your hips and peer up at him with a good, humoured stink eye, squaring up to the beanpole. “Ed, are you dumbing down your riddles for me? A mirror!” A tiny grin tugs at the corners on his mouth, avoiding eye contact with you.

“Figured you prefer to get them right.”

“Psh.” You roll your eyes, grin stretching into something wider. Then you cross your arms and lean forward. “I have one for you, now.”

“Oh, really?” He looks a little excited, and its adorable especially behind the goggles he’s still wearing. You resist the urge to giggle, though, and nod. “Fire away, then.”

“Okay, hold on, let me remember.” Pausing a moment, you look at the counter to remember the words. You have to get this right, to provide the perfect jumping off point for asking him out. “Okay, you see a boat filled with people, yet there isn’t a single person on the boat. How is it possible?”

Ed’s eyes shine and you know he’s heard it before; His eye sonly look like that when he’s about to give the right answer and feel smart doing it. Taking off the goggles and replacing his glasses over his eyes, he grins. “All the people are married couples.”

“Exactly, and Ed! Wouldn’t you like to be one of those people?” I’m going for it. No need to be shy- shoot your shot like a used car salesperson.

Immediately, the forensics guy looks completely flabbergasted and he stutters like he really is confused, for once. “What- what??”

Having the humility and poise to look a little moor mellow, you lean my lower back on one of the benches stretching across the wall and focus on the table in the middle of the room. You’ve seen many, many dead bodies on this table. “Well, my friend Mia and I are setting up a sort of… blind double date, I guess. She’s finding someone for me, and I’m looking for a guy for her and we’re gonna go out as a group. Safer than online dating, right? Well I was looking around the precinct for a guy, and… “ Turning to look across your shoulder and up at Ed, who looks curious but still hesitant-and ready to be more hesitant, - , you set him with a mischievous look. “Ed. Edward.”

“This doesn’t sound like a good idea… “He starts to refuse, looking away from you and back at his McMuffin, but you’re not giving up that easily. You haven’t put all your cards down on the table yet! But still, you don’t want to make him uncomfortable because you know this isn’t his thing, so you force yourself to stay in one spot and not look too desperate. Which, quite honestly, you are. The date is tonight!! You’ll end up having to take Harvey, and as sexy as he is, he isn’t your friend’s type.

“Ed, you’re perfect! Safe, for one; You’re a sweetie. And that’s not something I can for sure say about whoever Mia’s got for me- she works at the paper. And Mia loves riddles!” Well, ‘love’ might be a stretch, but she does have an appreciation for them like you. “And you’re the best-looking guy in the precinct.”

That seems to shock him, and he looks up again to blink behind his glasses. “What?”

“Well, yeah.” You shrug; Is it a secret? Dark hair, dark eyes, tall- what is not to like, here? “I mean, you’re on parr with Gordon, but that guy’s damn near married!” You grin, biting your bottom lip as you continue to look across the room rather then at Ed- but then turn and wink at him. “Besides, I like you better. Would much rather spend a night hanging with you then with Jimmy, he’s a bit of a workaholic you know?” Smiling genuinely, you give him an almost-awkward thumb up.

“Uhh… “Hesitant and full-awkward, Ed actually looks to be thinking about it now, looking away from your gaze once again. You don’t mind if he doesn’t keep eye contact- makes you feel like you’re being interrogated when the cops around here do that. Very weird. “I’m- I’m not sure. I’m not… very good… with the opposite sex… “

“You’re great with me!” You exclaim encouragingly, watching a tiny flicker of a grin pass over his lips as he looks down at the ground. “Come on, I’ll be there with you the whole time. Unless of course my date goes really well,” He looks up and you wink, grinning cheekily. Then an idea occurs to you, and you gasp. “I’ll even come over a bit early and help you prepare!”

Letting him think to himself for a couple minutes while you get out your phone and check for messages and periodically watch the door for other cops and forensics people. Finally, Ed lets out a deep breath and turns to face you again. You hold your breath, chewing on your bottom lip. “… Okay. I’ll go with you and Mia on this date. But you have to come over before.”

You let out a relieved breath. “Thank you, Ed! Sure thing. I’ll see you at yours at 6, the dates at 7. I’ll get your information outta the database- thank you so much Ed!” With a quick hug, and one last smile, you leave him back to his breakfast. “Enjoy your brecky and have a good day Ed! See ya!”

Ed just smiles a little smile, watching you leave before switching his glasses for the goggles again and goes to continue his breakfast. “I wonder… did I say yes for the right reasons?”

Through the corner of his eye, he catches his reflection grin smugly and shake his head.

He tries to ignore it.

~~~TIME SKIP: Later that day, at Ed’s apartment~~~

When Ed had answered the door in a plain t-shirt and sweat pants, you had been worried for half a second that he had changed his mind and that you had forced him to say yes to something he didn’t want to do, but then he quickly explained that he didn’t know what to wear.

Which was such an easy issue to remedy!

“There!” You exclaim when he comes out of the bathroom in the outfit you two came to an agreement on. You’re sitting on the end of his bed, munching on pretzels and smile encouragingly at your friend. “You clean up even nicer, Ed.”

“Thank you… “Grinning with pride, like a bird ruffling his feathers, Ed looks once more at his reflection and flattens out his emerald tie-his favourite colour, as you’ve come to realise. Its all over his apartment, and his wardrobe, - then he comes over to sit beside you and tie up his shoes. “Uh- Miss L/N, question? If you don’t mind.”

Swallowing 3 more little pretzels and picking out 2 more, eating like a marathon runner… if by running one meant eating. “Fire away.” Still bent over his knees tying up his laces, Ed does so.

“Why are you eating? I thought we were meeting up with the others for dinner.”

Waiting to finish the latest 2 pretzels, you cover your mouth and look embarrassed as you chew away quickly so you can reply. When you’re done, you laugh nervously and set the bag down in your lap. “Oh. Haha. I don’t want y’all to see me gorging myself when we’re out. Also, if I’m too full when I’m there to buy an actual meal, I save money on a potentially terrible date by just buying a bowl of chips or something. On the 3rd date, I might buy myself a proper meal.”

Ed sits up, setting his hands on his knees. “I don’t think anyone would mind seeing you eat properly, Miss L/N.”

“Uh… yeah, I don’t really think so either… Hah, but, I’m still a lil’ insecure you know?” Its nothing to be embarrassed about- you’re insecure! Everyone is about something. Besides, Ed’s easy to talk to. You know he wont judge you. Picking out another pretzel, you pop it in your mouth and enjoy the salty taste, offering Ed the bag in case he wants some.

“Oh, thank you.” He’s temporarily distracted from your confession by the snack, making your grin at how cute he is as he politely takes a singular pretzel. For a moment, you two just sit there and eat in companionable silence, and its nice. You look at him for a second, in his date pants and sweater, before looking around his apartment. Its pretty nice, you have to say. A little grungy looking, but in a fashionable way unlike the rest of Gotham. You can imagine the sporadic helicopter search lights that are normal in Gotham city probably look really cool flashing in through the full wall of windows. “Well I have leftover potatoes from my dinner last night that I could have now,” Ed finally wonders out loud, and when you look at him he’s ready to get up and go get them. Quickly, you put a hand on his arm to stop him, causing him to look over at you and wait for an explanation.

“Oh, Ed! No, I didn’t mean you had to as well!”

“But if it’s considered impolite to eat on a first date- “

“No! Ed, that’s just my silly thing. Mia and the other guy’ll eat like King’s. I promise you.” Encouragingly, and half apologetically, you squeeze his arm. “You need to eat a proper meal. As your friend, I won’t have it any other way.” You say the last part sternly.

“Hah. Well in that case I have to insist that you, Miss Y/N, have the same.”

Your jaw drops when Ed takes your bag of pretzels, zips it up again and gets up to put them away in the kitchen. Watching with wide eyes and a disbelieving smile on your face, you see him use his height as a weapon, get on his tip toes and put the bag away in the back of a top shelf. When he turns around, he grins evilly at you. You throw one right back at him, albeit less superior and put your fists on your hips. “Edward Nygma!”

He finds his place sitting next you again, this time a little closer and facing you, leaning on his hands that are on the bed between you so he’s sort of leaning toward you as well. For a second, you suffer a small heart fluttering stroke, but quickly push it aside and sigh in surrender, rolling your eyes. You look forward again, then turn back and smile at him.

“Do you have another riddle for me before we get going?”

Maybe you’re putting off leaving this apartment. A little.

His eyes shine, like they always do when you ask him for a riddle. “Of course, I do. What question can you never say yes to?”

“Ed!” You exclaim immediately, exasperated. “Another easy one! We’re gonna have to have a conversation about my IQ, sir. I assure you it’s larger than what you give me credit for.”

“I don’t doubt that Miss L/N.” He smiles, a bit bigger than his usual little grin. “I just like how happy you get when you can answer a riddle correctly- Don’t worry, I’ll adjust my criteria for riddles for you to make them more challenging from now on.”

How… how can he be so bluntly sweet and not even realise it?

Sighing deeply in frustration at yourself, you look away from Ed’s handsome, sweet, smart self and momentarily hate yourself. Sorry Mia. I can’t do this. “Oh Ed… I’ve made an awful mistake.”

“Oh?” He adjusts his glasses, confused. “About what?”

“Uhh… “Time to escape!! Go home!! Contemplate your total and utter hopelessness and misery on your own, Y/N! You get up from the bed and pick up your bag and your coat, backing up to the door out of Ed’s apartment. He gets up to follow you, but you hold out a hand and gesture for him to sit back down. “I just can’t go out tonight. I have, uh, cramps. So, um… I’m really sorry for ruining your night!” Bumping into the door, you whip your head around to look at it and flash a nervous smile back at Ed before turning to it. “So sorry… “What is wrong with you, Y/N?

“Miss L/N!”

Before you know it, Ed’s crossed the room and basically trapped you between him and the door. For a second, apology and nerves cross his features but then he moves on. “Miss L/N, are you okay? I, I can make you some herbal tea to help soothe- “

“No, no, Ed, its okay. I just need to sleep- “

“Y/N.” His eyes darken unbelievably for a second and the forceful way his voice bends around your name, your first name, causes you to stop talking and look properly at him again, waiting for what he has to say. As quickly as that dark, forceful look came, it gone again though and Ed drops his forward a bit as if exhausted. “Miss L/N forgive me for my vigour. Um, I just… I wanted to say… uh, before you leave, that um, uh, I… “Your heart lifts as he stutters through gibberish, and you tilt your head to side to try and see his face. “I want to admit something.”

You’re nervous about what he’s going to say. “You don’t have to… “

“I disagree. Um,” He looks up at you again finally, and you see shyness in his eyes, but determination also. “I want to admit, to you, that… my reasons for agreeing to go on this date, were uh… biased. I have little to no interest in your friend Mia, I’m sorry. I just wanted to spend more time with you.”

Eyes widening slightly, you watch Ed look down again and take his hands off the wall on either side of your head, letting them sit stiffly at his sides as he looks idly around the room as he waits for a response. Because of this, he misses the way your lips turn up in a smile. Relief washes over you, and happiness. He likes you, too!

“Uh, Ed?” You whisper, leaning back on the door now. You’re not leaving. “Look at me?”

“Yes?” He looks at you again, finding your eyes and your smile and breathing in deeply at the sight, surprised. Relieved.

After a moment, you give in to the urges that have only become stronger today then they ever were before - in fact, before today you didn’t even know they were there. But now you can safely identify all those weird smile you couldn’t help when you looked at the forensics guy, - , you pull him gently closer to you and lean up, kissing him gently on the lips.

Almost instantly, this boy presses closer so you’re on the door again between it and his, kissing you back tenderly so when you stop, there are bright beams on both your faces. Grinning, you adjust your grip on his sweater. “I think you're going to have to start calling me Y/N, now.”

“Yeah, that would be appropriate, wouldn't it?” Then Ed’s eyes widen. “I should make you the herbal tea. Your cramps.”

Lying very transparently, you bite the inside of your cheek guilty and tell him “They’re cured.”.

“This is going to be awkward for you to explain to your friend.”

“She’ll live.”

“Do you want to watch some TV with me then?”

“I’d love to.”

#Edward Nygma x Reader #The Riddler x Reader #Gotham #Edward Nygma x Reader Oneshot #Oneshot #Gotham x Reader #Gotham Oneshot

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kyogre-blue · 3 years ago

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Livestream 2.1

Hm... Honestly, it sounds very bad, but hopefully the exploration will live up to 2.0.

I wish they’d put on chibis like normal. I don’t like looking at more not too well set up video calls. I get enough of that at work, thanks.

Some of the voice actors are definitely better at switching back into character than others. Also, there’s too many of them this time. Four is definitely the limit, and that’s pushing it.

“Under the moonlight” “Beneath the light of jadeite”... I think you guys need to start variating this a bit more.

This faffing with accelerated aging or whatever... I have very serious concerns about the pacing for act 3. Like, big concerns.

“I will do anything to defend my family’s honor” But not wear pants. That’s a step too far.

tbh I think the editing on this trailer is not good.

Yae looks worse with every appearance.

The switch to “here’s Liyue again :D” is SO stupid. Yes! We’re definitely stuck in this dramatic sealed off land! We’re getting knocked out while Scaramouche laughs menacingly! ....And here’s Liyue :D

Cooking... I have never understood the fixation on it. It’s just food. And why are we acting like the Traveler is such a huge expert on it? I get Xiangling. But Keqing and the Traveler?

Moonchase sounds... pretty much like Lantern Rite. Looks not particularly different too. Although maybe we’ll finally meet some Liyue characters on screen. You know, a year after their release.

Speaking of the anniversary, there’s nothing aside from Moonchase (not actually anniversary content and not interesting anyway) and the login bonus (basic, should be standard all the time). Pretty pathetic!

“She created Musoujin Gorge in ONE SLASH” Why is this reaction so over the top? We’ve heard this before, and we know all about Guyun. This should be totally expected for gods.

Scaramouche is.... I’ve never seen him before :) I love it when games refer to experiences that players can’t actually have because of the developers’ bad choices :)) He also sounds unimpressive, in terms of his voice acting.

“the true origins of Scaramouche” who care tho. You didn’t build up a single thing about him. Most people haven’t seen him before, and even those who did have no reason to think he has special origins. Do you understand how buildup works. Do you.

Baal’s voice is so unfitting for her. And we have multiple reference to changing her heart. Which sounds awful, honestly!

Kokomi sounds so bad too.

Her kit is indeed nonsensical. Her ult is all for attacking, but she has no ability to crit and instead gets increase on healing. But only her skill heals. ????

Fishing system. Ah yes, the other pointless staple minigame of RPGs. That I don’t care about. And it’s about timing. Awful :)

What really drives me insane about this is that the most common excuse for Genshin’s failings is that they’re working so hard to meet their release schedule, how can we possibly expect more. Except they are actively choosing to waste their time on this kind of nonsense instead of improving all the things that are continually dragging the game down. I am no longer accepting “but it’s so hard to program things” as an excuse. Maybe they could have programmed all that if they didn’t put in a pointless fishing minigame instead. The teapot is this writ large.

“We’re having events that aren’t in-game” This is stupid. The real life Paimon statue is especially... wow. WOW. Who came up with this nonsense.

“Genshin Impact’s AMAZING music” The music is OK. It’s aggressively OK. It does its job, and that’s it. I’m also just kind of wordless about how excessive MHY is. This is an online gacha game (the lowest of the low as far as games go) with no particularly strong points to its name. To act like it deserves all this fuss is..... I don’t even know.

Aloy is indeed not until 2.2 for everyone not on PS.

And, again, very glad to watch this after the fact. To have to listen through all this without the ability to skip would be pretty sad.

For the good points... there aren’t really any, aside from the very quickly glossed over promise of two new islands.

#playing genshin

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justoneday-namjoonii · 5 years ago

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Don’t Breathe | 3.5

»Genre: hitman!au || stalker!au ||

»Warnings: kidnapping, stalking, obsession, themes of potential Stockholm syndrome, mono-phobia, mature elements, manhandling, breakdowns, yandere (? i think ), he thinks it’s cute when she cries, eventually they fall in love, Disclaimer: I do not condone nor suggest stalking/kidnapping or anything of that nature, this is pure fiction ok, kidnappers and stalkers DON’T love you.

»Summary: He doesn’t get shaky hands, he never forgets his gloves and he never leaves a trail. He was paid to get rid of everyone who witnessed the exchange between a gang lord and a politician, they were picked off, one by one. He found out a month later, he missed one. A young writer who attended the event where the exchange took place. He has to kill her. Can he do it?

✤ pt.1 - pt.2 - pt.2.5 - pt.3 - pt. 3.5 - pt.4.0 - pt.4.5

A/n: enjoy 💜

⇢ 6 years ago ⇠

“Don’t forget us when you’re a famous writer,”

Your mom brings in the third meal she packed for you, she insisted on making you a week worth's of your favorite meals. She said you were gonna miss home and her cooking would cure that longing in a heartbeat.

“Mom stop it,” You smile, unwrapping the electric kettle they bought you after graduation, “you two are everything to me, I’d never forget you guys,”

She packs the fridge, making sure you don’t starve due to your inability to look away from your computer when you’re writing. After graduating with a bachelor's in communications, you were able to get a position as a writer after interning at The Auburn Times. Your dreams were finally becoming a reality. You have a high-paying job that you love, a nice apartment, a boyfriend—life is perfect.

“We love you, Y/n,” Both your parents walk over to you and give you a big hug, this is it, “you’re gonna do great.”

Their embrace feels like love and reassurance, you’re so grateful for everything they’ve done to get you here. With a few more goodbyes, you walk them out as they drive away to get home, hours away from where you are now.

Your apartment is perfect, your kitchen is perfect, everything is just as you imagined. After a few hours of tucking in your bedsheets and setting up your bathroom, you order a large pizza and rightful gorge yourself to a messy reality TV show on your new couch.

On the other side of the city, he waits patiently, the large and lavish office. The chair is stiff under him, but he’s calm, composed.

“Hi, Mr. Kim,” The man with dark brown enters the room finally, a beige folder in his hand as he takes a seat in the chair across from him, “sorry for the wait.”

Taehyung tilts his head a bit, not upset or impatient by any means, “You’re fine,”

“So, you have an interesting profile,” Minho sits back, the folder sitting on the desk between them, “not a lot of kills under your belt but the jobs you have done, not one slip up. But tell me a little bit about your personal life, your background.”

Taehyung’s eyes drift from the desk to the man in front of him, “I moved here when I was eighteen, joined an organization but I just quit recently. I was born in the countryside, lived in a foster home for most of my childhood. My birth mom was strung out on drugs and my dad, don’t know a thing about him. That’s about it.”

“Any close friends? Do you live alone?”

“I have a friend, but other than him, I don’t know anyone here. And yes, I live alone.”

“Good, you’re perfect for off the grid jobs,” Minho takes out a pen and pad to write down a few things, “okay, you’ve got the job.” He takes out the contract and hands Taehyung a pen.

He reads over the official paper, finding the X where he’s supposed to sign at the end of the paragraph of terms and agreements, “When do I get my first assignment?”

“I’ll have one to you by the end of the week. But let’s go over the rules: first, don’t come in contact with the target. That’s guaranteed screw up. Secondly, keep your observation time at a minimum, if not, you’re at risk for developing an obsession with the target, that’s never good. And lastly, one of the most important rules of all; under no circumstances should you form a bond of any kind with the target. The contract you’ll sign to secure this job states just that, a target is a target. If you accept, you get the job done, no exceptions. Got it?”

“Not a problem,” He signs his signature, swearing his life to this organization for a full 7 years.

“Good,” He takes the pin and tucks the contract back into the folder, “Welcome to the guild.”

It’s noisy.

You’ve been awake for a few minutes, but you’ve heard little movement upstairs—he must be getting ready to go out. Staring up at the ceiling, you keep thinking of that night. How he looked when you hit him, his face flushed, and his eyes tender, he wasn’t angry.

The urge to scratch him when he’s near has lessened, you scold yourself for that. There should be no reason for you to feel anything more than hate for him, so any positive feelings you might have, you have to push down. He kidnapped you, you hate him—you need to hate him.

The door opens and you shyly sit up and gaze at him, he’s dressed nicely in a beige knit sweater and his hair looks freshly washed. He slips the key out of his pocket, “I’m going out today,” Taking your wrist into his hand, he sticks it in the lock and the cuff falls off, “I want you to shower and eat something before I go.”

You can feel him looking at you, waiting for your compliance. But you refuse to move or even look him in the eyes, your attitude will be your downfall one day.

“Hey,” He grabs your arm a little tighter than usual, making you frown, “get up,”

You spare him a halfhearted glance before standing up and walking past him, eager to get to the shower and away from his overbearing presence.

Surprisingly, he lets you walk upstairs and he follows you to the guest bathroom where you’ve been showering since you’ve been here. He shuffles you into the bathroom as if to tell you you’re walking too slow. You stumble a little, why is he handling you like this?

“Um,” You bite your bottom lip when you only see a towel and washcloth on the counter, “do you have any clothes for me?”

“Just take a shower, I’ll be right back,” He answers flatly, closing the door in your face. He’s so moody right now, you know you can be pretty cold to him, but he didn’t have to slam the door. That won’t keep you from indulging in a nice shower though. You’re grateful that he at least gives you this luxury twice a day. Taking off your clothes, you sit them on the counter and hop in the shower. A few minutes go by and your stomach twists when you hear the bathroom door creak open.

“I need you to hurry up,” He glances at the curtain, trying not to think of you being completely bare behind it, “I have to be somewhere in an hour,”

“I’m going as fast as I can,” You mumble. When you hear the door close, you get out and quickly dry off so you can get dressed. You notice that nothing he brought you to wear is yours, aside from your underwear and socks, which you choose to not to think of how he picked them from your drawers. There’s a baby-blue hoodie with gray sweat pants, these are definitely not yours, are they his? You cringe, but slip them on anyway. Ugh, you chastise for liking how the clothes fit, it reminds you of how Jin’s clothes used to hang on you.

It’s comforting to think of him, you haven’t thought of him in a while. He used to be your everything, you two were partners in crime for a majority of your life in the city. But things didn’t work out and you have no negative feelings about it. If anything, you’re grateful to have had the time you had to figure out what you really wanted. Now, look at you, your free lifestyle just a distant memory.

When he hears your light footsteps he looks at the end of the stairway to see you, his mouth opens to speak but nothing comes out. Damn it, why do you have to look like that? He forgot to do your laundry last night, now he has to live with the image of you like this for the rest of his life. Not paying any mind to his gawking, you glance at the delicious-looking plate and try not to look too excited from it. The sandwich and chips with a large bowl of fruit have become normality, knowing he’d have it prepared every day was one of your only joys.

“I didn’t get the chance to wash your clothes last night, so I had to give you something of mine,” He breaks the silence with a firm voice. He walks up to you and holds the plate in front of you, gesturing for you to exchange it for your dirty clothes. “you can take that downstairs,” He vanishes into the laundry room.

No need to tell you twice. You hold the plate gladly and head back to the basement or what you mentally refer to as a cave. It doesn’t take long before you’re perched on the cushion and picking at the bowl of fruit.

He makes an appearance once again, this time he stands at the stairs, not fully entering the space. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours,” With that, he locks the several locks on the door and seals you into your dungeon for however long he pleases.

Music, you hear music. You assume it’s from his speaker, but you’re just not sure from where. You listen and you can hear the song clearly, Fly Me to The Moon to be precise. A tune you often hum mindlessly at home. You think, he had probably heard you humming it several times. There’s no telling how many nights he watched you prance around your home as if no one were watching. Unbeknownst of his presence, oblivious of your nearing future. The thought alone makes you sick to your stomach. You push the plate to the end of the cushion and lay down, dying to return to the peaceful realm of sleep.

The brunch spot isn’t as packed as he thought it’d be. He sits at the table, drinking his second cup of water as he glances at his watch, Yeosang should be arriving soon. Yeosang was the only friend he had in this city when he first moved here, they go way back. About a year ago, he got a job offer abroad and he hasn’t seen him in person since. Today he’s back to visit family and he made sure to schedule a time for one of his best friends.

“Taehyung!” A cheerful voice calls his name, “Long time no see,”

Taehyung greets his blond-haired friend with a and he insists that he takes a seat. “Man, how long has it been?”

“Too long,” When the two finally sit down, the waitress brings Yeosang a menu and says she’ll be back to see if they’re ready to order, “Berlin is nice, but my social is suffering, I work too damn much,”

“Tell me about it,” Taehyung stares at the menu, debating over the green tea latte or an americano, “it hasn’t been the same since you left.”

“Yeah?”

Yeosang has always been the one person in the guild that he fully trusts, something about him that

“Yeah, I went on a job with Park Jimin, can you believe I actually agreed? if you were here you probably could’ve talked me out of it,” He sighs, finally deciding that the green tea latte is the best option. When the waitress walks by, he waves her over gives her his order. Yeosang puts his orders in as well and the two go back to their conversation, “the payout was too good to pass up,”

It’s not long before their food is on the table and they’re reminiscing on the good times they used to have. Taehyung was great support for Yeosang and vice versa. They used to get jobs and split a hefty payout for their services as a team, it was nice to work with someone he trusted. But even working alone had its perks, larger pay, less loose strings, no one to debate with.

“So,” Yeosang peeks at him, noticing how his hair is threatening to grow past his eyes completely, “have you found anyone special? Or are you still living in that huge place of yours all alone,”

Tugging his bottom lip into his mouth, his feline eyes drift to the window beside him, he has to answer this carefully or it’ll become obvious that he’s hesitating, “No, there’s no one,”

He pries, smirking because he just doesn’t fully believe that, “You should broaden your horizons, Kim. Go out, date, have a little fun,”

Tae sits his drink down and sighs, deciding not to entertain that, “Where are you staying?”

“A hotel, I won’t be spending too much time there though, I have a packed schedule,” HE tilts his head in thought, “maybe I can crash at your place this weekend?”

He smiles, “Sure,”

“Agh!” You slam your body against the door for the third time, but to no avail, it stays locked. If he’s nothing, he’s smart when it comes to keeping you from trying to escape. There are no windows down here and the door isn’t budging for anything.

After your shoulder began to throb from the constant impact, you decide to give up and sit on the floor in front of the cushion. It’s been days since he’s let you out of here and you think he’s doing it on purpose. Aside from getting you up to bathe and eat, he hasn’t taken you to his room or come down to sit with you. It’s not something you want to miss, but he’s proving to be right about what he said when you were first brought here—you’re feeling isolated. He hasn’t threatened to starve you, he hasn’t made threats of any kind actually, it’s starting to seem like he’s trying to spite you? Whatever he’s trying to do, it’s creating a distance that’s starting to make you feel more uneasy.

Everything feels scary. Not him, but what he’s doing to you. You feel so alone, isolated. When human interaction becomes nonexistent. That’s what he once said but you ignored it at the time, brushing off as a threat to keep you afraid. But he was right, it’s starting to get to you, these four walls. You’re beginning to have a hard time telling what time it is, it’s messing with your senses. You can’t remember the last time you’ve seen another human being beside him. He hasn’t given you crossword puzzles, a notebook to draw in, he doesn’t even let you watch TV. You do nothing, every day you just do absolutely nothing.

And at night, you’ve developed a bit of insomnia. You stare into the corners of the dark space, telling yourself that there aren’t dark figures staring back at you.

Sometimes, you find yourself thinking of him in the dead of night—his face, his voice, the way his hands feel. Knowing he’s probably the only person you’ll have for a while. There’s something so warm about him, the way he looks at you, those eyes... That’s what gets you the most, those deep brown eyes that you can’t look straight into without your mind wandering. It doesn’t even occur to until now that you don’t know his name, you don’t know anything about him.

Maybe you could learn, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to get to know him. You’re conflicted about it, but what choice do you have? The only other option is to sit down here and go crazy. He’s proven to have a mild obsession with you, why not use that? It’s not so shameful to switch it up and make him think you’ve changed—anything to get you out of this hellhole.

That’s your decision, seduce him. Get close, if you can get him to trust you, even just a little bit, that’s one step closer to getting out of here.

In your hours of isolation during the day, he’d wait to the late hours of the night and peek down into the basement, seeing that you were asleep. He’d creep down there and sit next to your cushion, eyes trained on you when you’d toss and turn. Sometimes you’d pull on the cuff on your wrist, and he’d get the urge to take it off, but that thought wouldn’t last long. When he’s not working, he’d dedicate himself to learning about you from a distance. Lately, he's dedicated some of his time to painting when the need to see you becomes unbearable. It’s a good distraction. Right next to his room, he goes into his little art studio. He hasn’t been in there as often because he’s been so busy, but he’s thought about letting you occupy yourself in there. Being able to express yourself creatively might put you in a better head-space.

“Are you sure he’s legit, Jungkook?”

Jin looks over the card, still not too sure about all of this.

“Of course, he’s ex-FBI, very legit, best PI I know,” Jungkook speaks muffled over the phone, “man, he’s a genius when it comes to stuff like this, he finds wat the cops miss.”

Jin sighs, “I hope so. I never liked her living alone, and this was why, just thinking about it makes me sick to my stomach,” The silence piques concern in his friend, knowing he’s hurting, “I know we’re not together anymore, but I care about her, I’ll always have love for her, we’re like family,”

“I hear you, just take it one step at a time, she’s a strong girl, always has been” Jungkook tries to comfort him, but he can’t blame Jin’s concern. He’s a lawyer. There are so many cases that he’s come across with missing victims who haven’t come out alive. He only hopes that he’ll never see a case file with your name in it.

Jin looks up when he hears a knock on the door.

“I’ll talk to you later, he’s here,” He hangs up, straightening up his dress shirt before opening up the front door.

“Kim Seokjin? I’m Min Yoongi, Jungkook connected us,” The man stands relaxed, dirty blond hair and a pair of soft eyes, surprising for a man of his reputation.

“Yes, please come in,” He gestures him inside and Yoongi obliges, eyes discreetly checking the place out, “I prepared the folder last night, was there anything else you needed?” Jin closes the front door and grabs to the beige folder off of the kitchen bar.

“Let me see,” Yoongi extends his hand, taking the folder and opening it up. With narrowed brows, he reads over your address, social media, your workplace, little things like that, “this is good. What is your relationship with her again? Boyfriend or-”

“Ex-boyfriend, but we were on good terms, we’re friends. Her supervisor, Suzy, called me, she’s the one who found out she was missing. I was on her emergency contact list, she must’ve forgotten to update it when we broke,” He bites his cheek to stop himself from rambling, “anyway, she hasn’t answered any calls or texts,”

“It says here she’s a writer for The Autumn Times,” He nods to himself, “I think I’ve read a few of her articles. Do you think there would be anyone out there who would have any reason to abduct her? I heard there was a briefing that some of the attending reporters started vanishing from, is she connected to that in any way?”

“No, not at all,” Jin couldn’t anyone would ever target you, “well, now that I think of it, I wouldn’t know.”

“How about new friends, family, a new boyfriend, an old flame, anything like that?”

“No- Well, I wouldn’t know that either, we haven’t talked for a while, but I don’t think so. She’s very career-driven, after me there was no one else that I knew of, and she’s never had a huge social circle,” Jin furrows his brows, a bit taken aback by the thought you getting with someone else who would potentially put you in harm's way.

“Well, I never rule that out, so I’ll do a little digging to see if it’s possibly someone of that nature, but who knows, she could have run off on her own accord, could be a lot of different things,” He closes up the folder, “anything else I might want to know?”

“No, I think that’s everything, if there is anything Suzy finds out, I’ll contact you immediately.”

“I appreciate it, it’s nice meeting you Mr. Kim,” He shakes his hand, “and I assure you, I’ll carry the burden of worrying about her, you just relax, okay? I know it’s easier said than done, but you’ve gotta stay calm somehow.”

“Thanks.”

With about as much information as Jin could possibly gather on you, he decides to go to your home first. Assuming it’s under police investigation, it might be blocked off, but he knows the department well, so getting in won’t be a problem. One call and he’s given permission to investigate. It takes roughly an hour to get to your apartment, and sure enough, when he approaches the front door, it’s untouched. At least it appears that way. Taking the liberty to survey the home, he pops the lock and walks inside.

You have a nice place and there’s no immediate sign of forced entry. If it was an abduction, there’s no sign of it being violent, maybe you were unconscious? The said necklace was no longer at the scene, so that was probably confiscated as evidence. With his blue rubber gloves, he starts to plunder through the house. First, he checks your bedroom. The first thing that catches his eye is the bed being made. In theory, if you were taken in the night, why would your bed be made? As he enters your room further, he opens a few of your drawers, nothing looks unusual so he closes them up.

“Hm,” He furrows his brows, if you were kidnapped then your abductor is good. The home looks virtually untouched. For a moment, he’s about to go to his car to grab his camera so he can take pictures of the place, but he hears a beep that comes from the window.

The open window.

Curious, he crouches in front of it and looks it over. There’s no way someone with enough skill to, in theory, make up the bed after taking you, leave fingerprints on the window, but that's not what he’s looking for.

Grazing the window pain, he looks for dirt, gravel, anything that could fall from the bottom of a shoe. Nothing. “Damn.” He sighs, opening the window further.

Just when he thought there would be nothing, he sees the alarm lock. It’s been tampered with. He takes out his phone and snaps a quick photo before writing this down on a notepad. “We’re getting somewhere,” He mumbles, pushing the window down. He’ll come back later for prints, now he has to make a few phone calls.

He’s at the grocery store and he tasked himself with purchasing personal items for you. Soap, razors, lotion, things of that nature. He avoided the impressed looks from women who probably assumed he was purchasing these things for a girlfriend. One particular woman was watching him, pitying his indecisiveness. He was seriously having a hard time choosing a razor, he forgot what he saw you use at your house.

“Hi,” She smiled, moving into his line of vision, “this one of better for sensitive skin, it’s the one I use,” She points to the one that was fairly priced between the least and most expensive.

“Thanks,” He was relieved to finally just put one in the basket.

“No problem, I’ve been shopping for my boyfriend before, I know how it is,” She winked and went off into another aisle.

After running a few more errands, it was almost sunset and he decided to head home. Instead of checking on you like usual, he showers first. He’s been thinking about you, it’s been a while since you’ve gotten any real interaction. The only time you’ve been seeing him the last few days is to get food or use the restroom, the distance was necessary. He wasn’t kidding when he said you were tempting him, he needed to step back. When you were scared because of him and cried for a while, it was interesting to see that he frightened you that much. He’s got emotional control over you, that much is true. But he’s not sure he’s controlling the emotions that he wants to control. Coming out of his thoughts, he dries off and slips a shirt and sweats on.

Meanwhile, you can hear his piddling upstairs and you start to lose confidence in your plan. If you could get him to a point where he trusts you enough, you would have a better chance of escape. It seems cruel to deceive him and wrong to want to get close to him just because you don’t want to live in a basement anymore. But if you stay down here any longer you’re going to lose your mind, it’s already happening.

The door suddenly opens and you sit up to see he’s dressed in a white tee and gray-sweats, his hair jet black and fluffy, his expression soft.

“Come up so you can shower and eat,” The same line you’ve heard for the last few days.

Testing your boundaries, you don’t move. You continue to sit curled up on the floor, knees pressed to your chest and head hung low. Without a word, he calmly walks down to you.

He crouches in front of you, “Why are you being difficult?”

“I’m just not hungry...” You lie.

“Yes, you are,” He sees right through you, “it’s been hours since I’ve been home.” He tilts his head. Insistent on going through with your experiment, you stay where you are. He scoffs, an amused grin on his face, “You want me to carry you?”

You look up at him, your confidence wavering. “No...”

“Then get up.” His tone isn’t soft like usual, he sounds impatient.

Reluctantly, you stand up, trying to push yourself to your feet. Hoping you can muster up the courage to go through with your plan, you shyly follow behind him.

It’s the same routine, he tells you to get in the shower (his shower this time) and disappears to get your clothes. This time is a bit different, in the shower you notice a few extra thins. A lilac-colored razor, floral smelling body wash that you’re so used to buying for yourself, he bought this stuff for you? Either way, you take the time to shave, there’s no telling when you’ll get the chance to do it again.

When you turn off the water and wrap yourself in a towel, you see that he put some clothes and underwear out for you, as you expected. Again, his clothes but your underwear and socks. This time, he gave you a dark green shirt and sweats, similar to what he’s wearing now.

He’s standing in the kitchen, making your plate and his. Dumplings, rice, and a few other sides, one of his favorite meals. When he hears the bathroom door open, he looks up at the banister to see you walking to the stairs with your clothes bunched in your hands.

“Let me see,” Taking your clothes from you, he gestures to the table, “go sit down, I’ll get you something to drink after I put your laundry in the washer.”

You do as he says, and your stomach growls, debunking your lie from earlier. Taking a seat, you wait patiently until he emerges from the laundry room.

When he comes to the table with two cups of tea, he glances at you, wondering why you haven’t eaten yet. “Go ahead and eat,” Casually, he picks up a dumpling and starts to eat, “it’s gonna get cold.”

Gazing down at your plate, you hesitantly pick up a dumpling at bite it—it’s actually really good. So, even though you were trying to seem uninterested, you end up eating a little over half of your plate. He grins when he sees your chewing the last dumpling on your plate, now he knows what food you can’t resist.

“Are you finished?” You nod. He takes your plates and takes his time putting the dirty plates in the dishwasher.

Oh god, this isn’t working. How are you supposed to get on his good side when you can barely function when he’s around? You can barely speak you’re so nervous.

“Let’s go, you’re going back to the basement.”

No no no no, you can’t go back down there. Say something, do something. But nothing comes to your mind and you freeze. Before you know it, you’re walking back down to that dark abyss and you start to feel hazy.

“It’s gonna get a bit cold tonight,” He thinks aloud, “I’ll bring you an extra blanket,”

You take a seat with a sigh, dejected and disappointed in yourself. This was supposed to be easy. But now that you’re back down in the basement, you’re starting to feel it again. The dread, the isolation that you know he’s trying to make you experience. It’s overwhelming. Why is he doing this? Maybe he’s upset about that night when you hit him, he may resent you for that. But how could he blame you? You’re the victim, you’re the one suffering, being treated like a prisoner, and then he tries to kiss you. Warm tears stream down your cheeks and you don’t try to hide it, there’s no point. Softly, you sob into your hands, you’re sure you look pitiful.

“Why are you crying?” His voice breaks you from your train of thought and you look up. He’s holding a blanket and standing in front of you, more so curious than concerned. Not expecting you to have broken so soon, he takes a seat beside you, eager to hear your reasoning. “What’s wrong?”

“I-” You sniffle, trying to get your words together, “I hate it down here, I see things at night, it’s so dark and- and I see things...”

“You’re just imagining things,” He reasons, not an ounce of sympathy in his words, “there’s nothing down here.“

“But it’s scary, it’s hard to sleep at night,” You wipe your tears, “I keep think you’re going to let me drown like last time, that’s what I keep thinking...” He finds your accusation interesting, given he told you he had that problem fixed.

“No, that’s not gonna happen again, I got that problem fixed,” He grabs the cuff from the wall and you keep a steady eye on his hands. “You’re sleeping down here, give me your hand-”

“No,” You scoot away, holding your wrists behind yourself so he can’t grab them, “please, it hurts when I sleep...”

“I really don’t care, you should be used to this by now,” He tries to grab your arms again but you pull away—you’re really testing your luck. “Stop it, I’m not in the mood. Give me your hand.”

You bite your lip and your eyes glisten with fresh tears, you don’t budge. Being as skilled as he is, he grabs your arm anyway but he regrets it as soon as your deafening cries meet his ears.

“No! No,” Whining at the top of your lungs, you roll your body onto the floor, “p-please,” You sit back on your butt, heart beating out of your chest. You really weren’t planning to lash out like this—but you couldn’t take it anymore.

“You’re really pushing it,” He stands up, glaring down at you. “I swear to god I won’t say it again. Get up.”

When you look away, he takes that as your final answer, you just don’t want to listen.

“Fine,” He picks you up with a strength you didn’t realize he had and tosses you onto the cushion. He easily straddles your waste to pin you down and that’s when you really kick into fight or flight mode. You pull him back to the ground with you and you’re a mess of tangled limbs for a moment. You get the opportunity to crawl away, but he grabs your ankle and yanks you back, making you collapse onto your stomach, “Agh- L-let go,”

“Stop acting like this isn’t what you asked for,” He pants, “I tried to be nice to you,” He’s trying to get you to stay still. Realizing your difference in size, he gets the idea to press himself against you, smothering you to the hard floor to get your arms without you sitting up, “didn’t you want to be down here? What happened to that? You don’t get to change your mind and do what you want,” He seethes, pressing the side of his face firmly into the crook of your neck while he busies himself with trying to get a hold of your erratic moving arms.

“Get off!” You cry out in a high-pitched squeal, kicking and squirming, trying to get him to give up.

“Stop moving,” He warns through gritted teeth, “what the fuck is wrong with you?” He sits up to look you in the eyes but that doesn’t last long. You violently kick your legs which causes him to lose his bearing, giving you the freedom to move your upper body now. You quickly turn onto your stomach and hold your hands to your chest, sobbing into the hard floor. It’s no use to keep going with you, you’re relentless.

“Okay, I get it, calm down,” He sits up a bit out of breath, now straddling your lower back. Your eyes squeeze shut when you feel his hands run down your sides, extremely slow.

“There you go, just calm down,” He rubs your shoulders and drags his hands down your sides down to the dimples in your lower back, where he remains. He does this over and over, relishing in the way you seem to become pliant, less rigid. When you let out a small exhale he withdraws his hands and pushes his hair away from his face, “I get it now.”

“What?...” You whisper.

With a deep sigh of relief, he lays down on your back in a bear hug. What is he doing? You whimper at the extra weight and heat but there’s nothing you can do to get away. He lays on top of you comfortably, not moving or saying anything, he just breathes in sync with you.

“I understand,” He groans against the shell of your ear, “you have to get this out of your system, I know you’ve got pent up frustration against me.”

“I can’t stay down here, I can’t,” You bite your bottom lip, too confounded physically and emotionally to say anything more comprehensive, “I can’t...”

“Do you want to sleep upstairs?” He asks softly, lifting off of you so you can look back at him. When you nod, he gets up and pulls you to your feet. He can’t help but coo at your flushed face from all that crying, he brushes your cheek with his index finger.

“Come on, take my hand,” He looks at you with earnest eyes, urging you to take his extended hand, “it’s okay.” Carefully, you take his hand and you let him walk you upstairs, freeing you from that dark and lonely place.

Thinking he’s going to take you to the spare room, you look to the left as he takes you further up the stairs. To your surprise, he turns right and your heart sinks straight into your stomach, you grow farther from the room and closer to his room. Not knowing how to react, you follow him, trying your best not to look terrified, you didn’t expect him to do this.

He leads you inside and closes the door, noticing your shock, he lets go of your hand. As if your feet were bolted to the floor, you stand where you are and watch him walk to his closet.

“Where-...Where do I sleep?” You ask like a mouse, your voice barely coming to his ears.

“The bed.”

You breathe in and breathe out, it’s okay. You walk towards to the bed and sit on the edge, not undoing the bed-sheets or even getting near the pillow. You know you look awkward but you don’t feel comfortable. When he emerges from the closet, your eyes direct to what he’s holding, handcuffs? Not again.

When he sees that alarmed look in your sleepy gaze. He holds his hands up to show you that he means no harm, “It’s okay, don’t worry, I have to take extra precautions,” With one hand, he pulls the sheets back and stares at you with warm eyes. You start moving, but a little too slow for him, he drags you to the middle of the large bed by your arm like a rag-doll.

“Lay down,” He pulls the sheets over you and then gets under himself, “I won’t do anything while you’re sleeping, I promise.”

Taking his word, you do as he says and scoot further under the sheets to lay on your side, facing away from him.

You’re so impossible. “Face me,” You feel his hand on your shoulder as he turns you over. He grabs your wrist, clicks one cuff on you, and the other on himself.

Confused, you look at him then at your left hand and his right hand that is now bound by the metal restraint.

“Don’t try anything stupid. I don’t trust you enough to let you roam free while I’m asleep.” He yawns, scooting a bit closer so that you’re not pulling his arm uncomfortably. “Sorry, you lost that privilege a while ago.”

This didn’t go as planned. He wasn’t supposed to take you to his bed, you weren’t supposed to have a breakdown and fight him, you were hoping it would go smoother than this. Now you’re laying in his king-sized bed, cuffed to him as you face each other.

His eyes are open and prying, enjoying being so close to your pretty face, he’s been waiting for this moment. You’re so entertaining to watch, he smirks when he notices you struggling to stay awake. Every few seconds, your eyelids would flutter a bit and you would frown, trying to keep them open despite your fatigue.

“I know what you’re trying to do,” You swallow the lump in your throat, feeling caught, “you should go to sleep,” He mumbles, rubbing your arm with his free hand, “I won’t go to sleep until you do, so we could do this all night, but I know you’re not gonna last.” He murmurs with a sleepy grin.

“Why did you break up with Jin?” His question is so sudden, it catches you off guard and you stammer, trying to figure how he knows that and how you should respond.

“How did you know that?...”

“Just tell me why.”

“We were good friends, an- and it should have stayed that way,” You pause, a little shy to explain further, “we had two different lives that just weren’t compatible anymore, that’s it...”

He makes a sound of acknowledgment, satisfied with your answer.

“I know you’ve been living alone for the last few years, I’m sure you got lonely after the breakup, you don’t have a lot of friends,” He keeps his hand on your shoulder, still rubbing gently, “but you seem okay. You do a lot of things to busy yourself, your job, volunteering, things like that...That’s good, you function well by yourself. But here, you seem so small and your independence is gone, you have to rely on me, you hate that don’t you? I’m sorry, I know you do...But I’m all you have, you’re starting to understand that,”

His hand is warm, and you find yourself leaning into the feeling when he scoots even closer, your face now centimeters from his, “That’s good, you’re so good Y/n...” He praises you, nuzzling his head against yours.

“Hey, you know what’ll be fun? How about you ask me a question,” Sleepily, you shake your head no, and he frowns.

“Come on, there must be something you want to know,” He pries, pushing your hair aside so you can look up at him, “Ask me something, I’ll answer one question, then you can sleep.”

“Um...” You rake your tired mind for a question and one suddenly comes to mind, “What’s your name?...I- I don’t know your name...”

“Good question,” He coos, “my name is Taehyung.” Finally, you know something about him, rather than him telling you any and everything you’ve ever done in your lifetime. You breathe in and shut your eyes, squeezing your fist and exhaling against his skin.

You relax in his heavy embrace, you let him hold you and he sighs when he feels you succumb to sleep. He knows this isn’t real. He’s been in his line of work far too long to be played, even by someone he adores as much as you. Unbeknownst to you, he knows exactly what you’re doing but he’s letting you do it anyway, for selfish reasons. He knows the drill, become friends with the enemy, sleep with the enemy, and your chances of defeating the enemy increase. Despite being aware that you’re deceiving him, he doesn’t care. If it means he can hold you close and not be pushed away, it doesn’t matter how real or fake it is—he wants it anyway.

#taehyung stalker au #taehyung smut #taehyung scenarios #taehyung angst #taehyung assassin #taehyung fluff #taehyung fanfic #v scenarios #v angst #v smut #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #bts fanfic #bts assassin au #bts stalker au #bts #don't breathe #don't do it hehe

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sole-cuore-amore-e-droga · 4 years ago

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Croatia brings no men in a hamster wheel to Rotterdam 2021

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Now could this be the teddy bear uprising invasion Muse has warned us about 12 years ago?

And LITERALLY, these review series make me feel like Croatia is openly taunting me - I watch the days go, I’m losing track of time, and when another day comes, I’m screaming “oh no I forgot to publish a review sooner than wanted!!”. Guess I’m for one glad there’s a time related song this year, hum?

ARTIST & ENTRY INFO

Repping the Adriatic coast nation that got all the sea instead of Bosnia & Herzegovina is some 22 year old Albina Grčić, who first popped up on X Factor Adria back when that was a thing, and got lumped into a girlgroup in later stages, but to that she said “hvala ne” and moved on with her life, getting eliminated just like that. Queen <3 She did get her second chance to compete as a soloist and make a more prominent mark on her career when she ended up on The Voice in Croatia. She did well, placing third overall in the season, but somehow, during the duel stage, her coach initially favoured her fellow Dora 2021 contestant Filip Rudan:

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Her Voice success landed her a record deal with the Croatian division of Universal Music, she released a debut single, sometime later ended up on Dora, and here she is now, on Eurovision.

“Tick-Tock” is the song, a standard upbeat pop song, and one of the ones that talks about a girl leaving a terrible relationship and being so well over it that she “found [her]self and [she’s] finally free”, and the “tick-tock” here is used to represent the time passing by, not the sound of her heart, unlike a fellow ESC entry of a similar title. The tune (or its lyrics only) is co-authored by some dude you might’ve heard of from France’s 2018 preselection Destination Eurovision, and that is Max Cinnamon - some half-English guy with a half English song about love (”Ailleurs”) that did moderately averagely in the final... I don’t even know if his influence shows, I just love how 2021 has sort of become revenge of the NF flops but they’re writing other entries instead (Suzi P, “Adrenalina”).

REVIEW

I often don’t really fully vibe with female bops in Eurovision as much as I want to, like, for the most part they’re overhyped, and I let the “yass queeeeen” audience gorge on the everything their favourite bops give them. But this year there are plenty of great ones to choose from, as I think that it’s safe to say that most, if not all, are tucked in somewhere inside my top 20, top 25 at the very minimum. Croatia managed to even do the impossible and land into my top 10.

Why?

Well, the answer is that the song is just so damn good.

I mean, what’s NOT to like about it? It’s a catchy and upbeat song that incorporates xylophones (or whatever is it that sounds like them), guitars and synths; has a good bassline in the chorus; and it’s just... a very good composition overall, like, all the instruments in it are just in their right place and uplift the song massively. I also like Albina’s performance on it, both live and studio, it clearly shows that she’s a very good singer (also shown on her cover of the scandalous Oscar award snubbery “Husavik”). Sounds like a song a common pop loving Eurofan could gear themselves towards. Besides, it also has possibly my favourite pre-chorus section of the 2021 year? Oh wait, there’s also Switzerland, scratch that. “Tick-Tock” has one of my favourite pre-chorus sections of 2021. It builds up so well instrumentally and the way Albina sings it is even better. I obviously like to believe Albina heard those voices from far away that helped her to escape, has found herself, and she’s finally free from her “partner’s” bad lovin’ and restraint. Yas queen go be free you didn’t deserve his tomfoolery anyway! 👏 (Also I admire a section that’s not quite the pre-chorus but is still before the 1st chorus, the one that goes “If you pull me down then I'll come around” - literally just a lot of the parts of the song are full of nice vocal performance and I don’t regret ranking this in my top 10 not a second.)

If it has any drawbacks, it’s just that it gets a tad too repetitive after the halfway mark... like, the pre-chorus before the second chorus is the one to be repeated once again, and no new verse, nothing - but it does launch itself into something extraordinary, and that is a chorus in Croatian, which I assume she would perform in Eurovision because there’s no Eurovision version on the song promo bundle, I suppose. Comparatively the Croatian chorus is not as complex in lyrics as the English language one, and flows slightly differently too. But the song still has a long chorus by the end, and song with too many choruses is never a good sign for those that look for a song that’s constructed well, but I guess it’s a good factor for those that value the song’s catchiness. I guess that’s what one of the two Eurovision 2005 hosts valued the most when writing the Ukrainian 2006 entry “Show Me Your Love”, which if you ask me, is straight up 75% chorus, lol.

So yeah my verdict is that almost everything about this song, I like. I’m just a little devastated that in a usually very easily gorged on category of female bops, this just tends to lag behind in love, like a fellow song I really like this year, Israel. Instead people tend to prioritize Cyprus (which I get because they’ve established themselves as a girlbanger nation since Fuego swept Eurovision) and... probably even Azerbaijan? (which I might also get because Eurovision rarely has this thing called an ethnobop anymore, and it has more ethno than “Cleopatra” did, but still unnecessarily underwhelming lol.) Well then, in a year of female bangers, I would just like Croatia to not be swept under the rug come semis I guess. Yeah “Tick-Tock” may not sound like it brings something totally never seen before in a Eurovision environment (foreign language lyrics, themes about a break up, hell even her dancers looked like they were wearing the same hats as Tamta’s dancers), but you got to have a lot in you to sell a worn out idea to the new heights, and Albina does exactly that in my eyes.

Approval factor: Yeah! There is a lot of it in here for me. Follow-up factor: A great follow-up, not so great in regards to panini but musically it’s just going up and up from what we had in the past few years. I’ve actually not minded “The Dream” for the most part but I knew it was a chanceless plodding ballad and Roko harboured heaps of wasted potential working with Jacques Houdek and having wings as part of his performance, uff. *_* And then there’s “Divlji vjetre” which I also like a lot - a much better male ballad winner choice! If the Dora re-up winners keep being decent imo just like this, I have a feeling I will follow it a lot more often than I did just this one time this year. I am just saying that panini-wise, it was a sucky move from HRT for not allowing their last year’s winner promote his new song with Tijana (from Serbia 2017) on the Dora night, so we sadly only heard a pre-recorded opening version of “Divlji vjetre” to start off with :( Otherwise I think it’s not Dora’s fault in itself that Damir himself chose not to even submit an entry this year because he hadn’t found a good one - much like with Diodato for Sanremo (he was NOT rejected, if you think he still was, shush). But aside that, musically, it just keeps going up for me. Well done Croatia, for you’ve used to be a Eurovision country I don’t necessarily care about, that you brought two pretty damn good entries in a row. Qualification factor: I can absolutely trust in Albina bringing in a little bit of her charisma and well-likedness, and on top of that, a great vocal performance, in Rotterdam. Don’t ask me why, I just do. She doesn’t really perform her song live on pre-parties as much as I’d like to hope she would, but you heard girlie on the national selection, she didn’t win for nothing. Yeah yeah there might as well be female uptempo songs hungrier for the last spot, but I’d like to think Albina is one of the ones ready to devour than to be devoured. Go girl! Take us all dancing!

NF CORNER

To be honest with you, “Tick-Tock” winning Dora caught me by surprise. Ever since its re-up, the last two editions were kind of won by male ballads, and maaaaybe the dancey females were doing moderately well enough for themselves, but not overall? But look, juries were very keen on Albina, probably because she can SANG and she creates one hell of a fancy presence on her performance. And somehow she ended up snatching a win out of the hands of 5G conspiracy theorist 2016 representative Nina Kraljić, who was at first too drunk to care, but too unexpectedly sober to yell all over the soc. media how she was robbed and how the contest was rigged against her with her being on first and all that. Which is a shame that she is one of THOSE people, because her NF entry “Rijeka” is kinda nice? We did have the Balkan-esque ballads coming from Croatia in recent memory, but we haven’t had a truly proudly folksy one at that from Croatia for a long while, if not ever. Nina could’ve very well brought that to Rotterdam (and another mismatched wardrobe choice oops). But instead she was the one screaming “oh no, oh no, oh no”.

Actually I regarded Nina as one of my faves pre-show, and Albina was on her way, though she didn’t really cement the personal fav status until after all performances, thus making Nina and Albina switch spots for me. But truly, the one song that was my top favourite, iiiiiiiiiiis

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GIMME AN OCEAN! OF LOVE!

2021 made me realize that damn, maybe anything that’s funky is my favourite music genre afterall. Up until then I vibed with entries like “Tonight Again” and “What’s the Pressure?” that had this sort of energetic flair and very rhythmic kinda sound to it, but 2021 just simply cemented it to me that my music world has probably been about nice and smooth and funky all along. I owe so much gratitude to ToMa first and foremost along the lines of more to have come in this year’s lineups - I just can’t not want to dance to “Ocean of Love”, and ToMa is quite alright at selling it live as well. There are small gripes with some instrument usages but that doesn’t detract from the fact that I love love LOVE funky guitar tunes.

Aside from that, I can give shout outs to Beta Sudar, whose song not only was underrated, but also had an underrated meme format throughout its performance:

My other props go to Bernarda, who not only competed in a national selection singing a song about seeing “Colors” while blind (and ironically there was a song called “Blind” in that same NF sung by a well-seeing guy!!), but also for finally putting this every country’s reject to rest. Seriously. That particular song was passed on to everyone in need of a competitive Eurovision bop, from Poli Genova to Helena Paparizou as of recently. Oh well, at least the song died a honourable death - well performed slice of good typical Eurovision pop (maybe even overperformed a little towards the end), that got a good rank with the regional juries, but somewhat murdered in televote, fellow Boris Milanov composition “Chameleon” style.

This one Mia Negovetić chick was promising too! Her song was written by the Debs and you might be tired of them trying to continue infiltrating Eurovision at this point, but a lot of their Eurovision songs are usually something I enjoy, “She’s Like a Dream” is no exception. Nothing but 3 minutes of pastel-dressed Croatian Ariana Grande doing what she does best <3

Oh and also some dudes tried to play chess on stage too I guess. But their song is not worth looking into, because one of the acts on it is apparently also a conspiracist, and maybe because oft this their entry is aptly titled “Sing, for the freedom has arrived!” lol I wonder what exactly is the kind of freedom you’re thinking of my guy

Was this the “better mood game” Laura was warning everyone about? Beats me

NF CORNER (NON-COMPETITIVE)

• It’s still hilarious to me as to how one of the acts this year, Brigita Vuco, was planning to bring in backing dancers, only for them to show a fake COVID test or something and outright BARRED from coming with her on stage. <3 Whatever she intended to do with them dancers, I have absolutely no idea, but at least she committed to her song being about drunken nights visually by having all these blurry shots

• Nina Kraljić’s greenroom shenanigans, from the “1-2-3, 1-2-3, drink” to numb the sadness over some results (and the 8 she got from the region Rijeka for the song “Rijeka” lmao), to whatever she saw on the phone that made her smile or go neutral

• Greenroom reactions in general. I swear, this year had cameramen in every single corner everywhere just to make sure something covers up for a human audience instead of severals of Zoom screens permitted to act as an audience. Random people in greenrooms were doing some sort of emotions after random acts, and also randomly they ended up pointing a camera towards an act that lost, but the act didn’t treat losing as if it were such a big deal <3

• All the other memes the Croatian Twitter might’ve noticed me for:

seriously Bernarda was locked in a bluelight mathematical dice contraption. how fucking cool is that

ANY LAST WORDS?

I just fucking hope that Albina shatters any doubts that people have had about her song come rehearsals, and somehow Croatia AND Israel slip through, because never too many female bangers I appreciate in the final, if they all are the bangers I appreciate, lol.

#eurovision #eurovision 2021 #rotterdam 2021 reviews #croatia #Albina Grčić #albina #tick-tock

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perseusjackson-jasongrace · 4 years ago

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Hey...I am AN ABSOLUTE jercy TRASH like A HUGE JERCY FAN and I was wondering if you could like a one shot of jealous percy...I have seen a lot of jealous jason fanfics but never really saw a jealous percy!!! Thank you and I LOVE YOUR BLOG SO MUCH...

Hello darling Anon!! Adore that you're #jercytrash (is there really any other way to be????) and I'm so happy you enjoy the mess of content i have🥺💙all the heart eyes

Anyway I loooovvveeeeeddddd this prompt and this is evident by the very many words I couldn't help but write! I do hope you love it as much as I loved writing it☀️please excuse any mistakes it's like 3am here and Ciara be tired as hell

Masterlist

"Are you coming to the party tonight?"

"Gods no," Percy shivers, face pulling into a look of distaste.

"Why not I heard Annabeth is gonna be there," Leo's eyebrows waggle, earth eyes sparkling.

He wants to laugh, to cry a little too. If only that is the blonde he is so infatuated with.

"Nah bro those parties always end up much wilder than they need to be and nine times out of ten they're shut down by the cops."

"That's half the fun Jackson!" Leo's smile widens.

"I'm good thanks, my idea of fun is sitting here playing Playstation and gorging myself on M&Ms."

"Will you at least promise to come on the trip this weekend?"

"I don't know man," He shakes his head, "I've got a psych test to study for and there's like three assignments due by the end—"

"Oh excuses, excuses Jackson you haven't gone out once since we started. It's gonna be winter break soon and we won't see each other for at least a month." Those brown eyes are puppy wide.

He sighs, half-ready to give in, "Who's gonna be there?"

"The usual gang. And Jason finally gets to come this year! His dad is on a business trip so he isn't spending the weekend for once."

Percy's ears get hot and he hopes they don't look flushed, "Oh that's nice I guess. If you leave me alone tonight I'll come on the trip."

Leo's answering whoop is enough to make him laugh. When he collapses on the couch, after waving goodbye to his friend, there is a warmth blooming in his chest.

Three hours, five packets of M&Ms and a stream of curse words at the TV later, he finally decides to head to bed. But as he's shoving on a pair of sleep shorts there's a knock at his door. He frowns, considers ignoring it but his mind whirls with all the possibilities.

What if someone got hurt? What if someone needs his help? What if someone is....oh gods he doesn't want to think about it. He brushes his fingers against the wooden headboard, rubs at his head, grabs his elbow and then he takes a deep breath and opens the door.

"Peerrccccyyy," A slurring, smiling Jason Grace stumbles into him.

"Jason?" He grabs hold of the blonde's arms and pulls them both into his apartment, "What are you doing here?"

"I came over because–" Pearl white teeth flash, "Wow you're so pretty." Those golden hands grab Percy's chin, pulling their faces together until there is nothing but tension and breath between them.

"What are you doing?" He swallows.

"Has anyone ever told you your eyes look like emeralds glistening at the bottom of a river?"

"Uh no can't say they have," He wants to laugh but Jason's lips are so close and his hand is still on Percy's face and oh gods he needs to move before he does something he shouldn't.

"Have we kissed before? No I'd remember that." Eyebrows scrunch, "I think you have a beautiful mouth."

"I think—" He inhales sharply as Jason's fingers dance along his collar bone, "I think we should get you to bed."

"Aw," Full pink lips pout, "But we are having so much fun."

"I think we'll have more fun when you're sober."

The blonde giggles, "I'm not drunk silly. I only had like... fifteen shots of vodka."

"Jesus Grace how are you even standing?"

"When you're this tall it takes forever for the liquor to do its thing and you need a lot of it otherwise it all goes to your toes and you never get drunk."

Jason is frowning again and all Percy wants to do is kiss the crease in his forehead and pull him closer. Instead he tugs him by the hand and guides him to the bed.

"Where will you sleep?"

"I'll take the couch." He pushes the blanket aside and let's the blonde fall into the sheets.

"Are you sure? You can always stay with me?" Those blue eyes are bright and big and so full of, of, of... "I promise I won't kick you. I stopped doing that in first grade."

He can't hold in his laugh this time but when he recovers enough to reassure his friend he'll be fine he is greeted by the peaceful sight of a sleeping blonde. He shakes his head softly, allowing himself a moment to take in the scene. Tangled white sheets, golden hair, soft deep breathing, a tiny splattering of freckles, and the wonder of tomorrow carried on the wind that stirs the chiffon curtains. This moment will live within his soul for the rest of his life. Of this, he is certain.

***

The treadmill beeps incessantly indicating the end of the session and the end of Percy's day. He's about ready to pass out from exhaustion and he couldn't be happier. The days are long and blurry and he would do anything to escape the weight on his chest. A blue-eyed, golden-haired weight. He snorts at the innuendo. If only the actual person was sitting on his chest, entertaining each other. But no it's just the feeling, the emptiness, the lack of anything weighted. His eyes shudder closed as he steps into a red-hot shower and let's the memories of his last meeting with the blonde wash over him. There is a time, mere months ago, where Percy would have scoffed at these feelings. Would have told himself it was ridiculous and stupid and there were much more important things to be focusing on than some boy. But every interaction with Jason Grace feels like the middle of a fireworks display, feels like crawling into the sun, or falling off a cliff only for the water to catch you. Every interaction feels electric. And he cannot help but overanalyse each touch, smile, lingering look. Are they for him, or for the world? Jason had always been easy. He could make you feel like the most important person in the world just by glancing at you. It was beautiful, magnetic, but it also meant Percy never really knew if anything they did was genuine. If the extra squeeze when they hugged was as a friend or something more. If those blazing eyes over the campfire was a trick of the light or... But tomorrow it's their annual WastedWinter trip and at the very least he can look forward to a few nights of bad decisions and sinful delights.

The day dawns bright, cloudless, and icy cold. He breathes in the fresh winter air and lets the sting travel through his lungs. There are few things as lively as the winter morning air. With a look through his apartment window to see the birds flying and the wind shaking the trees awake he ducks into the shower and gets ready for the trip.

At exactly eleven a knock echoes through his apartment. He clicks submit on his assignment and races over to throw the door open.

"Good morning Jackson! You're looking especially radiant this find day."

"Must be the seaweed face mask I put on last night."

"Oh," Annabeth Chase frowns, "And here I thought you got down and dirty with someone."

He snorts, stepping aside to let her in. "No such luck Princess, I'm down and out on laundry."

She smacks his arm, grey eyes sparkling, "I hope you know you're driving for most of this."

"Is this because I'm the only one who can be trusted to get us there in one piece,"

She gives him an incredulous look and then turns her nose up, "No Jackson it's because the rest of us want to get wasted and you don't drink."

"Ah, glad to know I'm of some use to the group."

"Oh you're plenty useful," She winks.

He laughs at that, mind flashing to the fling they had at the start of their undergraduate years. Both had realized pretty early that life was leading them in different directions and it would be better to stay friends. But tumbling in the sheets with her had been fun while it lasted.

"Alright who's in our car?"

"We got me, you," She starts tapping her fingers, "Leo, Jase and Rey,"

"Great so I'll be talking to myself for most of this trip." He rolls his eyes.

"Why do you say that?"

"Well Leo and Reyna will fall asleep about five seconds after we start driving and you and Jason will talk incessantly about gods knows what, which leaves poor old me."

"We will not!" Annabeth's ears go pink as she glares at him.

"Mhmm okay Princess."

"Shut it." She grumbles, shoving him.

Some minutes later they're all piling into the car: Percy driving, Reyna in the front, Leo at the back on the left, Annabeth in the middle and Jason on the right.

"Hello everyone ready to roll?"

"I didn't get nearly enough sleep last night," Leo mumbles and then he's fluffing his pillow against the door and closing his eyes.

"What was he doing?"

"Engineering project," Jason grins, "He forgot and had to sit up all night to submit before we left."

"I'm also out," Reyna throws up an uncharacteristic peace sign and settles into her seat, eyes already shut.

"And her?" He asks, a little sore his right-hand passenger is ditching him for dreamland.

"No idea," The two blondes shrug.

Percy refrains from rolling his eyes and puts the car in gear. With a final check to make sure everything is in its place he pulls onto the road and starts the long journey to Lakeside Lodges.

The music is soft, some pop song that everyone is raving about, and the city is alive with the lunch hour rush.

"Jason," Annabeth starts, "What are you doing for the structural—"

Percy tunes them out, content to let their university talk become background noise. He glances at the rear-view mirror and sees shining blue eyes staring intently into serious gray ones. He looks away, focuses his attention on the road.

Sometime later they leave the city behind, the sound of cars and sirens and endless people fading into calmer, more lilting noises. The quiet of the empty road, and the crackle of the radio, and the soft chatter from the backseat. He cannot help but feel at peace, feel as if the world is balanced just right.

Annabeth giggles, catching his attention and he watches in the mirror as Jason lays a hand on her thigh and laughs into her shoulder. Quickly he adverts his eyes, swallowing the sinking feeling and turns the music up to distract his thoughts.

"Percy," At tap on his shoulder. "Pers?"

"Yea what's up?" He smiles and it feels like surgery with no anaesthetic.

"Did you hear what Jase said? It was such a stupid joke I said you'd appreciate it."

He shakes his head, "Wanna tell it again?"

"Nah," Jason mumbles, "Won't be as funny the second time."

"Aw come on Jase," Annabeth pouts, "For me?"

He watches from the mirror as those blue eyes light up, "What do you mean for you? I thought I was telling the joke for Mr Driver?"

She giggles, shoving at his arm, "That's what I mean."

Percy isn't sure he can't take anymore of their whatever it is so he clears his throat and asks them for a pack of Sour Patch Kids.

"Oo I love those!" Jason gasps, rummaging around in their snack bag. A packet drops into the cup holder and he thanks the blonde.

"Jase throw them at me, let's see if I can catch!"

The six gummies shoved in his mouth turn bitter as he watches the two giggle and joke and share space. By the time Jason throws the last gummy Annabeth is practically in his lap to catch it. Percy wants nothing more than to get out of this damn car. His skin is hot and he's sure his blood is about two degrees away from boiling. The stones in his stomach are stacking up like rock scultputres. Pretty but destructive. Nothing can get passed but nothing can leave either. And the heavy, sinking feeling certainly doesn't seem to be going anywhere. Finally though they arrive at the lodges and after check in he practically vaults himself out of the car and disappears into a bathroom.

There staring in the mirror he can see his misery reflected back at him. His green eyes are stormy, and there seems to be a permanent crease in his forehead. His mouth is down turned and his hair is in a state of complete disarray. Tugging at it when he's frustrated is an unbreakable habit.

He stays in the little bathroom for longer than he thought because he is sharply pulled to the present by a rap on the door.

"Percy?"

"Coming," He sighs. He straightens his back, attempts to tame his hair, and plasters a smile on his face.

"You good?" Frank frowns when he walks out.

"Yea sorry, drank one too many slushies."

His friend laughs, "Tell me about it. I think my tongue is going to be stained red for a month."

"I mean that's your fault. Blue is clearly the superior slush."

"Blue is the worst flavor," He scrunched his nose, "It isn't even a flavor. They somehow managed to give colour a taste."

"Well red is nothing but iced medicine."

"Hey guys," Frank waves their friends over, "Percy thinks blue slushies are the best flavour, care to tell him he's wrong?"

There is a pause amongst them and then everyone is talking at once.

"No,"

"I mean I kind of agree."

"Green is obviously the best."

"There is no way, it's red all the way."

"What about-"

"Okay!" Annabeth shouts, "Let's settle this WinterWasted style,"

Leo rubs his palms together, a gleam in his eyes.

"Everyone who says red stand on one leg, everyone who says blue stand on anything but the floor."

They all shuffle around, pushing each other over and generally causing chaos but soon they're in their spaces. Everyone observes the room.

"That's four to red and three to blue." Leo announces.

Jason, Percy and Hazel are standing on the couches and counters. Piper, Annabeth, Leo and Frank are on one leg in the middle of the lounge.

"Yes! We won." Frank smirks, "Alright losers you know the drill."

"No!" Percy yells, "We're missing a person. If Reyna joins us then we're even and we go into death round."

"Okay Jackson, I see you can't take the loser title sitting down so we'll get Reyna's opinion. But if she chooses us you guys have to drink and jump." Frank's black eyes sparkle with mischief.

Percy narrows his own, pinning his gaze on his friend, "Deal Zhang."

Just then Reyna walks in and seeing the odd scene sighs heavily. "What are we trying to settle? We haven't even had lunch yet."

"First of all it's six o clock so it's a little late for lunch and secondly are you Team Red Slush or Team Blue Slush?"

She scoffs, looks over them and grins, "I'm Team Purple because grape is obviously the only valid flavour."

Everybody groans, cursing her.

"Grape is the absolute worst Arellano." Leo gives her a look of disgust.

"Mhmm," She simply smiles.

"Well if you had to choose between blue and red which one?" Percy asks.

She taps her head for a moment and then looks to the ceiling in exasperation, "Guess I'll choose Red."

"Hell yes!" Frank whoops, laughing as the blue team groans. "Guess who's doing the BigFalls jump tonight!"

Percy grumbles but there is a light in his eyes and as he swats away a hand ruffling his curls he decides it was worth it, even if his friends are wrong.

That night they all stumble to the GreatCliff, an area that had witnessed many a fall, kiss, and confession. Most importantly a place that held some of their favourite memories.

Percy, being the only fully sober one, constantly counts his friends, making sure none of them have gone over-cliff or landed in a ditch somewhere. Soon enough they make it to the clearing and lay down the picnic basket and their towels.

"Alright losers," Piper smirks, "You ready for this?"

Hazel pouts, "Do we have to?"

"Yes!" Annabeth exclaims, blonde curls bouncing as she jumps up and down in excitement.

Jason whispers something in her ear and she dissolves into giggles. Percy looks away, refuses to let their closeness ruin his night, weekend, forever.

"On the count of three," Frank starts.

Reyna takes off her sarong and settles down on the blanket with a smirk.

"One..."

Hazel bounces nervously.

"Two..."

"Don't get hypothermia," Piper laughs.

"Three!"

Jason, Hazel and Percy are sprinting, racing for open air. With a yell they jump and then they're free falling, flying, screaming.

Percy hits the water in a neat dive, barely flinching at the icy temperatures. When he comes up for air the world is noisy with laughter and cheering. He waves to his friends at the top of the cliff and checks to make sure his fellow jumpers are okay.

Hazel is grumbling about being fully sober again and Jason's teeth are chattering but there are smiles on their faces and stars in their eyes and Percy knows the weekend has just begun.

They all swim up the stream and climb all the way back to the cliff where a small fire is crackling and their friends are dancing sporadically to a bawdy ukelele tune being played by Leo.

"Oh gods," Jason groans, "How are we already at this stage of the night."

"Whatever Pipes put in the punch is going straight to our lungs," Annabeth giggles.

Reyna shakes her empty glass in confirmation and request. Soon everyone is hopping and bouncing and singing badly around the fire. Percy settles into the blanket and watches his friends. They are full of life and magic and he can't help but tear up at the love he has for them. Even Reyna is joining the revelry, laughing bright and beautiful at something Hazel says.

His attention catches on the twirling figure of Annabeth. And then Jason grabs her mid spin and pulls her to him.

"Dance with me,"

"Of course Mr Grace," She bows.

They draw together, his hands on her hips, her head on his chest, swaying slowly. Annabeth mumbles something and Jason's shoulders shake with laughter. She looks up, their eyes meeting. Percy can't stand to watch anymore. Abruptly he gets up, throws the blanket aside and stalks into the trees.

"Pers?" Someone calls. He doesn't bother to respond.

He hears scattered conversation and then footsteps are running towards his retreating figure.

"Percy wait!"

He manages to hold in a groan as he realizes who followed him.

"Pers slow down, what's going on?"

"Nothing," He grits, "I just needed some air."

Jason laughs, "We are literally in the middle of a forest how much more air do you need?"

They're still stalking through the woods, dead leaves cruching under their feet.

"Come on, what the hell happened? You just up and left?"

Percy stops in his tracks, whips around to face the blonde, "I'm surprised you noticed."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You've been so wrapped up in Annabeth all day I wouldn't be surprised if you forgot to breathe unless she told you to." He spits.

Jason's face crumples, "What the fuck are you talking about?"

Percy instantly regrets his words but he can't take them back, "Just nevermind. I'm going to the cabin. Be careful walking back." He turns to walk away but a golden hand on his arm yanks him back

"Um no, you're going to explain right the fuck now because this isn't like you at all."

"Isnt like me?" He laughs sharply, "What isn't like me?"

"This," Jason motions up and down, "You walking away, being angry with us? What is going on?"

"I'm just tired," He sighs, "Can we drop this?"

"No Percy. I've seen you tired. I've seen you so exhausted you couldn't even see straight. I've seen you sad and angry and frustrated and happy and excited and calm but I have never seen you so... volatile. So just tell me—"

"I'M JEALOUS OKAY!" He yells, "I. Am. Jealous."

Jason reels back, lightning eyes blinking, once, twice, widening, "You're jealous?"

"Yes," He breathes, "And I'd appreciate it if we stopped talking about this."

"Oh," Is the blonde's intelligent reply.

"Yea oh," He scrubs at his face, running a hand through his hair.

"You're jealous of me? If you liked Annabeth why didn't you just say so? I wasn't flirting with her, we were just being dumb. I've had a few too many tequilas and she's hilarious and gods I'll back off I swear I didn't mean to hurt you. I'll even hype you up to her if you—"

"You are such an idiot," Percy growls and then he grabs the blonde by the t-shirt, pulls him in and sears their lips.

Jason tastes like the sky, like winter breezes and lightning storms and home. He tastes like home.

When they break apart Jason is gasping, mouth opening and closing.

"Do you get it now?"

"You- and I- and we- and Anna- and just- and-"

"Are you speechless because you don't know how to let me down easy or because I took your breath away?" Percy winces.

He needs to know. Needs to understand if this is a one-sided thing, if he's been dreaming up their dynamic all these months.

"Do that again," The blonde breathes.

A slow smile spreads across his face and then Percy Jackson cups Jason Grace's cheek and comes home at last.

#I had THE MOST FUN #Jealous Percy #Jercy #Jason grace #Percy Jackson #Jason #Grace #Percy #Jackson #Baby fanfic #Baby fanfic series #PJSSG Fanfic #PJSSG asks #Ciara's Convos #She speaks #Anon requests #Not edited

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