#i would write one for everyone if i could!

[moldychefboyardeecan]

One of my works was fed to this LLM. I shouldnt have to frantically look through my URLS. This is fucking disgusting that as writers, we literally get our words, emotions, characters fed into machines that can't replicate the tears, sweat , groans that we put into our writing. I am very hesitant on locking my works, as I want my writing to be free for everyone. That was the whole fucking point of AO3, for everyone to access works.

This has to go for artists too, because now instead of worrying if a tween is going to erase your watermark, you have to worry that those same tweens could replicate your work with a prompt into a soulless machine. I draw and write, and so do many. I would much rather 11 year old Emily trying to post my drawing and say its hers, rather than that same Emily taking my work, feed it to a machine, and replicate my style so now she can say she 'did it' I'm sorry for the writers of the 12.6 MILLION works that have been fed into a machine. You did not deserve that.

i was lucky in a sense that it was only one singular work. There are others whose whole catalogues were stripped.

AI on the outside may look helpful, but it is stripping the humanity out of the arts. AI is forcing writers to stop writing, in fear that they soon, would be eradicated by AI. Artists fear the same.

This is a fucking horror movie in action.

AO3 has been scraped, once again.

As of the time of this post, AO3 has been scraped by yet another shady individual looking to make a quick buck off the backs of hardworking hobby writers. This Reddit post here has all the details and the most current information. In short, if your fic URL ends in a number between 1 and 63,200,000 (inclusive), AND is not archive locked, your fic has been scraped and added to this database.

I have been trying to hold off on archive locking my fics for as long as possible, and I've managed to get by unscathed up to now. Unfortunately, my luck has run out and I am archive locking all of my current and future stories. I'm sorry to my lovelies who read and comment without an account; I love you all. But I have to do what is best for me and my work. Thank you for your understanding.

[iydiamartinx]

THIS MEANS WAR V

Dick Grayson x Reader x Jason Todd

divider by: @cafekitsune & @thecutestgrotto word count: 3k synopsis: Gotham’s youngest neuroscience lecturer never planned to get tangled up with two of its most eligible bachelors. Both are determined to win her over—without revealing they know each other… or that they’re vigilantes. But when the Joker takes an interest in her, things get a whole lot more complicated. a/n: This might’ve been one of my favorite chapters to write so far—I had way too much fun with it  Also, not sure if everyone caught my earlier heads-up, but I’m currently on vacation! This is a scheduled post, and I’m not sure how much I’ll be able to interact while I’m away. I will catch up once I’m back though! You can check out my little announcement here, for more info on when posts are scheduled and how long they’ll keep coming. The taglist will most likely be on pause until I return, but feel free to let me know if you’d still like to be added—I’ll make sure to include you in later chapters once I’m back!

OUTSIDE THE GOLDEN CUP

You were fully ready to go home and forget Jason Todd ever existed—maybe even bitch about him to Milo and Anthony over some wine, when you caught sight of the last two people you wanted to see.

They were strolling your way, all smiles and casual affection, like some goddamn ad for moving on. Jake laughed at something she said, and you watched—horrified, frozen—as he brushed her hair back with the same hand that used to trace your jaw.

Your breath caught.

No. No, no, no.

“Oh my god,” you muttered under your breath. “This is not happening right now.”

They hadn’t seen you yet, but it was only a matter of time. And you couldn’t do it again—you couldn’t be the girl standing alone while your ex showed off his new life like it was a goddamn prize he won by throwing you away.

You refused to give him that satisfaction.

So you did the first thing that came to mind.

You turned around and bolted after Jason.

“Wait—come back here!”

He turned, confusion flickering across his face as you reached out and grabbed his arm. “What the hell—?”

You barely let him finish.

“I need you to kiss me,” you hissed.

Jason stared at you like you’d sprouted a second head. “What? No!”

“Just kiss me!”

His brow furrowed in complete disbelief. “Why would I kiss you? Are you—are you insane?”

You glanced over your shoulder—Jake was looking this way now—and panic flared hotter.

“I’m serious!”

He leaned back slightly, like he was trying to decide if you were testing him or genuinely unwell. “Absolutely not. You’re completely bipolar.”

You let out a desperate, frustrated sound and grabbed him by the collar before he could protest further—then yanked him down and slamming your lips against his.

You kissed him.

Hard.

He froze.

But only for a moment.

His grip slid instinctively to your waist, and he kissed you back with a heat that knocked the breath out of you. His mouth was warm, confident, a little possessive. Infuriating as he was, Jason Todd could kiss. 

Your fingers curled tighter in his jacket as the world fell away. For one dizzying second, you forgot Jake existed. Forgot why you were doing this. Forgot everything except the heat of Jason’s mouth on yours and the steady grip of his hands anchoring you in place.

Then—

“Y/N?”

Your name cut through the haze like a slap of cold air.

You pulled back, breath catching in your throat, lips tingling. Jason didn’t move. His mouth was still inches from yours. His gaze flicked to your lips, then up to your eyes, like he was debating whether he should kiss you again—reasons be damned.

Jake’s voice came clearer now, closer. “Y/N.”

You turned toward him, feigning surprise like you’d only just noticed. “Oh!” you gasped—more breathless than you meant to be, though that only worked in your favor. “Jake! Wow, what are the odds of running into you again?”

He smiled, but it was thin, the kind that hovered somewhere between forced and insincere. “Yeah. Funny coincidence. Who’s this?”

You forced a bright smile, even as you felt Jason’s stare drilling into the side of your face, sharp enough to make your skin prickle.

“Jason—my boyfriend,” you said, pitching your voice higher than usual. “You remember, right? The doctor I told you about? We met at that neuroscience conference.”

Jason still hadn’t moved. Still hadn’t stopped glaring. Your nerves were fraying with every second of silence, mentally begging him not to ruin this. Not to humiliate you.

Then, finally, he shifted.

Jason turned toward Jake and Hannah with a grin that was all charm on the surface—and nothing but sharp edges underneath. “Jason Todd,” he said, extending his hand.

Jake hesitated, then reached out. The second their palms met, Jason’s grip tightened just enough to make a point.

Jake winced.

“Jake,” he replied, trying not to sound rattled. “You’ve got a strong grip. So… you’re a neurosurgeon?”

You resisted the urge to groan. Three years of dating, and Jake still hadn’t figured out the difference between a neurosurgeon and a neuroscientist.

“Scientist,” Jason corrected smoothly, not missing a beat. “Same as Y/N. We work together—and I have to say, she’s a brilliant woman.”

Jake’s smile twitched, strained at the edges. “Yeah she is.” he agreed more out of the sake of agreeing rather than actually believing it.

“Oh wow, that’s so amazing,” Hannah gushed, completely sincere. “A couple that’s both gorgeous and smart? Total power duo.”

You didn’t miss the way Jake’s jaw ticked at that. His smile faltered.

Jason, of course, leaned into it with practiced ease.

“Ah, Y/N’s the amazing one,” he said, glancing down at you with a look so convincingly tender your stomach flipped. “I don’t know what I love more—getting to work beside her or waking up every morning knowing she’s mine.”

Your cheeks flushed, heat blooming beneath your skin.

God. He was good at this.

“He’s such a charmer,” you laughed, sharing a quick smile with Hannah before turning to Jason with a soft shake of your head. “If anything, I’m the lucky one.”

He crinkled his nose. “God, I love you.”

“I love you,” you giggled—at the exact same time.

Jake blinked, clearly caught off-guard, his expression faltering. His mouth opened like he might say something—then shut again, silent for once.

You weren’t sure who moved first, but suddenly his lips were on yours again, gentler this time. Your fingers curled around his jacket instinctively as your body leaned into his without thinking. When you finally pulled back, you let out a breathless laugh, resting your head against his chest.

“We’re really happy,” you told Jake and Hannah, your voice light, breezy, too casual for how hard your heart was pounding.

Jason nodded, keeping you close with a hand settled snugly at your waist. “We are. But then again—who wouldn’t be happy with her? She’s got the brains, the beauty… even the brawn. Did you know she was a gymnast in high school?”

Jake stiffened. His frown appeared, vanished, then locked into place. “No. I didn’t.”

Jason’s grin turned wicked. “Didn’t think so.”

You gave a slightly awkward smile, not having expected him to bring that little detail up. “Yeah… he likes to brag,” you said with a giggle, reaching up to lightly slap his cheek in a silent shut up.

Jason just laughed, eyes dancing with mischief. “Ooh, feisty—I love it. My girl’s such a wildcat.”

And then, to your horror, he emphasized the point by bringing his large palm down on your ass in a quick, confident smack.

You let out a startled squeak. “Jason!”

He grinned, entirely unrepentant. “Sorry. I just can’t get enough of you.” Then he turned to the other two with a grin that was anything but apologetic.

Jake looked like he was rethinking every life choice that led him to this moment.

But Hannah?

Hannah sighed like she’d just watched the final scene of a rom-com. “That’s so romantic,” she breathed, practically glowing. Her eyes were glued to Jason, dreamy and starstruck, like she’d just mentally cast him as the lead in every fantasy she’d ever had.

You blinked.

Jason smirked.

And Jake looked one second away from combusting.

He shifted awkwardly, clearly itching to escape. “Well. It was nice seeing you, Y/N. And… meeting you, Jason.”

Jason’s eyes gleamed with amusement. “You too, Josh. We gotta run.”

Jake blinked. “It’s… Jake.”

“Oh.” Jason tilted his head, feigning surprise. “Right. Jake. Sorry, man. So many J names floating around in my life lately.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, hard, doing everything you could not to burst out laughing.

“It was really nice meeting you,” Hannah said sweetly, clearly trying to smooth things over.

Jason turned to her like she was the only person in the world. “The pleasure was all mine,” he said, catching her hand with gallant ease.

Then—of course—he bowed slightly and pressed a kiss to the back of her hand like he was stepping straight out of a period drama.

Hannah flushed instantly, caught somewhere between flattered and utterly frazzled.

Jake’s frown sharpened, but he forced a brittle smile. “Oh look at that. A kiss on the hand. Classy.”

“You are so lucky,” Hannah whispered to you with starry eyes. And she meant it. The poor girl was enchanted.

You gave a polite, noncommittal smile. “I know.”

Jake clearly had enough. He tugged Hannah’s hand a little too firmly. “Enjoy your night.”

“Oh, we will,” Jason replied, already wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you snug against him like he’d been waiting all night for an excuse. As the couple turned to walk away, Jason called out, sweet as syrup, “See ya, Justin!”

“It’s Jake!” came the snapped reply from halfway down the block.

Jason grinned, satisfied. Like a cat full of cream and mischief. His eyes still sparkled as he watched them disappear around the corner.

Then Jason turned to you, expression flat, voice bone-dry. “So. Want to tell me what the hell that was?”

You let out a slow breath, brushing your hair out of your face as the adrenaline finally started to fade. “An emergency.”

He arched a brow. “That’s not how normal people handle emergencies.”

You snorted, the tension finally beginning to unravel from your spine. “I’m not normal. You of all people should know that.”

He chuckled, the sound low and warm. “That’s one word for it.”

Your mouth twitched, and you looked up at him, expression softening. “Thanks, by the way. Really.”

A sly smile curved across his lips as he cupped a hand behind his ear. “Sorry—what was that? This ear’s a little deaf.”

You huffed, but it came with a reluctant smile. “I said thank you. Thank you. You don’t have to be annoying about it.”

He grinned, but this time there was something softer behind it. Something genuine. “You want to try this again? Start over. We could grab a bite—your pick.”

You hesitated, teeth tugging at your bottom lip.

Then he added, “You do owe me an explanation for… whatever that was.”

You sighed, shoulders slumping. He wasn’t wrong. You had, technically, assaulted him with a surprise kiss and roped him into a soap opera without warning. The fact that he went along with it—without throwing you to the wolves—definitely earned him a second chance. And probably dessert.

“Come on—I know a café just down the street. Cozy, quiet, not too many people. Coffee that’s actually good,” you added, shooting him a teasing look over your shoulder, “and the pastries are amazing.”

CAFÉ NERO

“…and I packed up everything,” you said, fingers tracing the rim of your iced coffee. “Turned down a position at STAR Labs. All to move back here with him.”

You took a sip, using the taste of the cold overly sweet liquid to ground you for a second.

“Few months later, I found him in our bed with his yoga instructor.”

Jason winced. “Damn.”

You gave him a rueful grin. “You can say it. I’m an idiot. Three PhDs, I literally study the brain—and I still didn’t see how much of a tool he was.”

Jason shook his head. “You’re not an idiot. You were in love. Love’s great at messing with the parts of the brain that normally warn us about red flags. Doesn’t make you dumb. Just makes you human.”

Your gaze softened at his surprisingly insightful words. “He just wasn’t the guy I thought he was. It feels like… a mistake.”

Jason leaned back, his tone more certain. “I don’t believe in mistakes.”

You gave him a look, amused. “That’s a very convenient philosophy for someone like you.”

He smirked. “Maybe. But it’s the mistakes that shape us. Break us down, sure. But they also build us. They brought you back here, didn’t they?”

You blinked, considering. “Would you rather be back in Central City?” he asked.

“Surprisingly… no.” You glanced out the café window, watching the Gotham streets pulse with life. “For all its chaos, Gotham was—is my home. I love my place and my best friends live across the hall.”

“And you like your job,” Jason added.

“I love my job,” you agree, thinking about all the brilliant sleep deprived lunatics you taught and worked with.

He shrugged. “So there you go.” Then, watching you mull it over, his smirk softened. “Just saying.”

You arched a brow, lips twitching. “That’s dangerously close to sounding wise.”

“I have my moments,” he smirked, then quoted, almost under his breath,“‘We all have a better guide in ourselves, if we would attend to it, than any other person can be.’”

You blinked. “Wait—what was that?”

Jason took a slow sip of his drink, expression suspiciously innocent.

“No way!” You gasped “That’s Pride and Prejudice.” You pointed a finger at him, eyes lit with amusement. “That’s a direct quote.”

He didn’t deny it. Just smiled. “You sure?”

“Yes!” you laughed, practically bouncing in your seat. “That’s Elizabeth. Talking about trusting your own judgment. I wrote a whole damn paper on it in high school!” You leaned forward, studying him like he was a puzzle you’d only just realized you wanted to solve. “How do you know that quote?”

“Maybe I just appreciate the classics,” he said, trying for nonchalance—but the faint flush rising in his cheeks betrayed him.

You squinted at him. “How many times have you read it?”

He shrugged. “I’ve lost track.”

His flush deepened, blooming up his cheeks now, and you couldn’t stop the grin that tugged at your lips.

“You’re blushing.”

“I am not.”

“You so are.”

“It’s good,” he defended, a little sheepishly. “Austen didn’t just write about romance. She wrote about perception. Power. How we lie to ourselves and convince ourselves we’re right—until someone challenges us.”

You tilted your head, watching him with new eyes—seeing a side of him that didn’t quite fit the arrogant bad boy persona you’d so easily pinned him with. Maybe he was right. Maybe you had been too quick to assume. He hadn’t exactly made the best first impression, sure—but you hadn’t given him much of a chance to prove otherwise, either. The truth was, you’d both misjudged each other. Different shades of the same mistake.

“It’s not just Darcy and Elizabeth dancing around their feelings,” he went on. “It’s how pride isolates you. How prejudice can ruin things before they even begin. It’s about waking up to your own flaws and doing something about them.”

“Wow,” you murmured, genuinely impressed. A smile tugged at your lips. “Okay. That was… borderline profound.”

He chuckled, looking a little self-conscious. “I read it when I was younger. Thought I was a Darcy type.” He paused, then added dryly, “Turns out I was more of a Lydia.”

You choked on your drink. “Lydia?!”

“Metaphorically,” he said, raising his hands. “Reckless. Stubborn. Thought I knew everything and didn’t need anyone.” He shrugged, eyes twinkling. “But don’t worry, I’ll still be the Darcy to your Elizabeth.”

“That is so cheesy.” You giggled. “I still can’t wrap my head around the face that you’re a closet Austen fan.”

“Don’t go telling people,” he said with a crooked grin. “I’ve got a reputation to uphold.”

“Too late,” you teased. “I’m never letting this go.” A smile lingered on your lips as you shook your head in disbelief. “And here I thought you were all leather jackets and terrible flirting.”

Jason leaned in, forearms braced on the table, eyes glinting. “Maybe I just needed the right Elizabeth Bennet to call me out.”

You raised your cup, matching the spark in his gaze. “You’ve got a long way to go, Mr. Darcy.”

His smirk deepened. “Challenge accepted.”

Now that you weren’t arguing or making assumptions about each other, the date had gone… surprisingly well.

More than well, actually.

You found yourself genuinely enjoying Jason’s company—his sharp wit, his unexpected depth, and the fact that, beneath the leather and bravado, he was a total literary nerd. Not only could he keep up when you started debating themes and structure, he actually challenged you. Matched your pace with insight and humor.

It reminded you—just a little—of how Dick had been able to keep up when you started rambling about science. The way he hadn’t just nodded along, but asked questions. Listened.

You tried not to think about that. Tried not to dwell on the small, unwelcome flutter of disappointment still lingering in your chest over the fact that he hadn’t texted you back. Maybe he got busy. Maybe it didn’t mean anything. You brushed it off and pulled your focus back to Jason, who, to his credit, hadn’t given you a single reason to walk away again.

What were the odds, anyway? Two gorgeous, intelligent men—both with sharp minds and devastating smiles—taking you out in the span of a few days. 

You hadn’t even noticed how much time had passed until you glanced outside. The streetlights had flickered on. Gotham was slipping into night—where the real chaos lived. The two of you had been talking for far longer than an hour, and while your brain wanted to stay planted in that booth, you’d learned your lesson.

You stood reluctantly, gathering your things as the last traces of sunlight slipped out of Gotham’s skyline. Juan glanced up from where he was wiping down the counter and sent you a knowing grin.

“Can I expect no more order for one?”

You glanced toward the door, where Jason was already there, holding it open with one hand, waiting. Then back to Juan, smirking. “We’ll see.”

Juan chuckled softly. “He’s good man, Doctora.”

You smiled, warmth creeping into your chest. “Yeah,” you said, eyes drifting back to the door. “I think he really is.”

Outside, the air was cooler now but neither of you seemed to mind, wanting to drag out the moment for just a few more minutes.

Jason paused beside you on the sidewalk, hands in his jacket pockets. “So,” he asked, voice casual but eyes watching you closely, “what’s the verdict?”

You tilted your head, lips curling into a smile. “The verdict is… I actually had a lot of fun. And I wouldn’t mind doing this again.”

Something that looked suspiciously like relief flickered across his face before settling into a crooked, satisfied grin. “And here I thought I might have to crash another one of your lectures.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You were insane for doing that.”

He shrugged, entirely unrepentant. “Worked, didn’t it? Got me a date with you.”

You grinned, warmth blooming in your chest despite yourself.

The two of you exchanged numbers and say your goodbyes. Jason offered one last wink before turning and disappearing into the crowd like he belonged to the night.

You made it home in one piece—miraculously not mugged or emotionally spiraling—kicked off your shoes, and flopped onto the couch with a satisfied sigh. Then you checked your phone.

One unread message.

Your eyes widened as you saw the name on the screen.

Dick Grayson

Hey, sorry I haven’t texted sooner. Got caught up with an emergency. Let me know when you’re free for that second date.

Your stomach dropped.

Oh. Shit. You were so screwed.

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Taglist: @mei-simp, @sept3mberchild, @a-brilliante-mariposa, @feralwolfkat, @mercuryathens, @beepboopcowboy, @lordbugs, @coffeemin, @nikkeora, @yuyuti02

[softsunnyy]

Kinnie with the Canucks ! ♡

you're filming a silly trend, a "mini-blog" of your son going to a Canucks game to watch his dad play. But seeing him so happy makes you think, and all you can focus on is him.

i started writing this a while ago and just remembered i never finished it, so here it is. Btw, the nickname is a short way of saying "pumpkin", bc i love that nickname and i already thought of a whole reason behind it. Also, i was inspired by this and this video + i was listening to "Love Story" while finishing it

i can make this a series if y´all want.

from the moment your little one got mic'd up, he started babbling and trying to narrate as best he could. And to make him feel more comfortable, they asked you to be the one recording him. So the boy constantly looks at you, talking about how excited he is to see his dad play.

now, this isn't strange or new to him; in fact, it's quite common. But it's always a new experience, and you know that Quinn's little copy idolizes him more than anything in this world, and he experiences every game as if it were Game 7 of the Stanley Cup Final.

you unconsciously smile at how easily he talks about the place, showing the spectators around, the outside of the locker room, everything, and then makes his way to his special seat, near the glass, where he can watch the game up close.

“dad’s coming out any minute, we’ll see if i can get a puck,” he said, mouthing the words in a funny way, his cheeks flushed, his smile exactly like Quinn’s. Behind the camera, your heart melts once again, knowing your husband would give him every puck and every stick in the game if his little one asked.

you hear him talk, but all you can look at is him. His hair, his cheeks, his smile. His sweet chuckle, and the way he moves his head when he talks. The way now his big and bright eyes focus on the rink instead of the camera.

you used to jokingly comment about how you spent months carrying him for him to end up being an exact copy of Quinn. But it’s true. And he’s more than happy and proud to look just like him.

when your little one first became interested in hockey, you should have seen it coming. Of course he wants to play defense. Of course he wants to be the best.

he’s fast, he’s very agile. And everyone knows what he wants.

“i wanna play like dad when i grow up. He’s so cool,” he smiled. And at that moment, the players came out for warmups. Your little boy sat on the edge of his seat, more attentive than ever, and Quinn was quick to find you, quickly going to the glass, hitting it with his stick, smiling when his son laughed, tapping the glass with one of his little hands.

Quinn didn’t even have to hear the question; he immediately went to get a puck, tossing it over the glass, and you had to be careful, catching it and passing it to your son, trying to capture the moment without moving the camera too much.

you hear a few people around you making “aww” sounds, watching the moment when mini Hughes smiles, his face lighting up even more.

he’s like a little fan, even though he sees his dad almost every day, and when Quinn is away, they spend hours talking on facetime, no matter how tired both are.

and no matter how much time passes, you know he'll still be this obsessed.

as the game progresses, he starts yapping and just talking, talking about how good his dad is, how he's the star of the team, and how much he loves his uncles, Quinn's friends. You smile, listening and trying to pay attention to the plays. You know it was originally meant to be a mini-blog, something they could post on tiktok for the Canucks' account, but you can't tell him to stop, or just cut the recording. Not when he's talking so happily, so excitedly, melting your heart. You know this should be seen, that everyone should get this dose of cuteness, even if it's a thousand-hour video.

and when it's Quinn who scores a goal? oh god, he screams and jumps, and you're sure he's the loudest. The people around congratulate him, knowing who he is, and making his smile even bigger, to the point where his cheeks cramp and his eyes are barely visible.

your heart aches; you wanna see him this happy forever, because it's all he deserves. And you love that it's Quinn who brings all of that to him, because it happens to you too. From the moment you met him, he's always been the first to make you smile, to be there for you every moment, to make you feel safe and increasingly confident. Quinn has always been your sunshine, and it feels right that he also is for your son, the fruit of your intense love for each other.

after the game, you walk behind him, who takes short, quick steps, trying to reach the locker room and see his dad. As the others leave, they pat him on the head, then wave to you and the camera. Happy with this victory.

when Quinn comes out of the locker room, he barely manages to bend down, reaching his son's level just as he throws himself into his arms. You see them laugh, do a little spin, and you know that all of that can be heard in the video through the microphone. Joy and love, in their purest and most beautiful state.

“hi, Kinnie,” your husband laughed, saying one of his son’s many nicknames, securing him in his arms before walking over to you, giving you a small peck. “Hi.”

“hi, dad,” your son replied. Then Quinn noticed the camera, and you paused for a moment to explain, watching him nod before looking down at his tiny copy. “Did you enjoy the game? i think mom recorded you yapping.”

“i was paying attention! i was just telling ´hem about the game,” he tried to defend himself, slightly blushing. “Mommy wasn’t even paying attention,” he said this time, making you both laugh.

when the video was posted, everyone was asking for the extended version, knowing that the video had been edited to fit on tiktok, so soon everyone could enjoy the full version on youtube as well.

thousands of comments talking about how mini Hughes inherited his dad's yapping, or how similar they are, and how loved he is.

and even though you try not to expose him too much on social media, videos of him in his little-games sometimes go viral, because of the way he skates, perfecting skills that many kids his age can't do yet; or videos of him "training" in the summer with his dad, his uncles, and his grandparents, in a family full of success, talent, and love.

everyone knows that little Hughes is the most loved, and that his future is bright, surrounded by people who will help him become a star. They even talk about how he'll be better than Quinn.

and you love it, you love knowing that he´s loved, that he's supported. You love knowing that you chose the perfect man, and that he gave you the ideal family. Because the bad days don't matter when the day ends and you all cuddle on the couch again. Because the good days will remain in your memories for years.

because no one will love you both the way Quinn does, and no one will love him the way you two love him.

and the internet is here to see that.

[northern-pirate]

Hee! This ending really is so good. XD

It's the last part/chapter/epilogue for The Queen of the Damned (which I finished reading this week for the first time, yay <3), and it happens after Lestat impulsively (surprise) has done precisely some of the things that Louis (and Marius) do NOT think he should do. It really is just as good and silly and beautiful as the last part of The Vampire Lestat.

Funny and beautiful and lovely end of the Queen of the Damned book spoilers and future season thoughts ahead~

So, end of The Queen of the Damned: basically everyone is chilling in Armand's villa on The Night Island. New coven gathered. Good vibes. Marius is reading the newspaper, Armand is playing chess, Daniel is listening to music, and Lestat goes into the room after having spent a long time just writing down a majority of the Queen of the Damned story.

Marius and Armand tell him that Louis has gone to New Orleans and that Lestat is free take the plane and go after him, and it's all very sweet. Also, Marius says "do NOT go fucking with the Talamasca, OK? Just don't." Lestat shrugs and says sure, why should I anyway? Gonna go off to see Louis now, bye.

The New Orleans part is beautiful and includes a revisit to their old apartment for some Claudia ghost spotting (guess what, it's not Louis who sees her~). Lestat offers to restore the run-down apartment to its former glory if Louis wishes it. Louis also wants to go see his own grave, so they do. It all really feels like something they could do beautifully in the series.

It includes Lestat saying that Akasha and he were lovers, Louis says he knows, and Lestat kisses him.

Stupidly I stared at him. How perfect he seemed to me as he stood there waiting with such kindness and such patience. And then, like a fool, I came out with it.

'Do you love me now?' I asked.

He smiled; oh, it was excruciating to see his face soften and brighten simultaneously when he smiled. 'Yes' he said.

*clutches heart* Okay, so if they decide to hold out on us, that would be a brilliant spot in the series to place the "I love you" from Louis that we desperately want and need.

Anyway~

Then Lestat wants to Do Something. Go off on a little adventure. And here comes a scene which is lovely in the book, and if they choose to include this in the series, it will hit differently because of episode 5, season 1.

They fly.

First Lestat lifts Louis, easy peasy because he's super strong now, and then they go off Superman and Lois Lane-style, up up and away, Lestat's arm around Louis' waist and Louis' arms around Lestat's neck.

... THAT is a trust exercise if I ever saw one, post-s1e5-drop. Gods. If they include this in the series, they can expand so much on it psychologically. Louis holding onto Lestat, Lestat holding onto Louis. No dropping. Just holding on, together. What would that moment even MEAN for the both of them in the series version? I think it could be amazing! <3 (I'd love to hear Sam's thoughts on this. How does one arrange interviews with actors anyway? x'D)

And well. The flying goes off to outside London, to the Talamasca motherhouse, because WHEN has Lestat ever listened to anyone - Marius in particular - when they say "don't go to this place and mess shit up now OK"?

So Lestat decides to introduce himself to David Talbot, in his apartment, and David is being quite sane and polite about it. Lestat gives him his phonenumber to call if David wants to become a vampire, or just chat. It's a very funny conversation. Louis fumes in the background and does very much not approve.

It's hilarious, and leads up to the quote from the book above. Which also is an epic fucking way to end a season, and would definitely end with a kiss in the series version. <3

[really-fanny-longbottom]

i hate that i love you

reader x azriel | they were once best friends and almost something more, but now they are enemies with a burning, unresolved desire—they promised to never cross the line that they drew, but one night it’s all it takes to forget that promise.

warnings: suggestive language, smut & curse words.

words: 5.7k

a/n: i decided to try something different, it was my first time writing something like this, so, i hope i did well.

masterlist

hate—a feeling of intense animosity, aversion, or disgust toward something or someone.

the perfect definition to describe the relationship with the person you hate most in this world.

the male known throughout the entire territorial expanse of prythian.

the male known by many names and titles.

the male that many fear but that you have to restrain yourself from punching every time you see him.

the male that irritates you as easily as he snaps his fingers and that makes your blood boil like water in a kettle.

azriel.

the infamous shadowsinger.

the relentless spymaster of the night court.

one of the most famous illyria's bastards.

who else could it be? 

everyone who knew you, or had heard whispers of your name, knew that you and azriel were opposites of each other.

where one was, the other could not be.

and if you both happened to be together in the same space, screams, insults, and fists were to be expected. 

it was rare the moments when you two went from verbal to physical but never impossible.

the members of the inner circle—rhysand, cassian, morrigan and amren—were witnesses to such a fact.

in fact, the first three had been the witnesses to the downfall of your relationship with azriel, because yes, you weren't always enemies.

no, you had been friends—best friends—in times that were now unknown, that were now covered by a fog between reality and imagination. 

you and azriel had hated each other for so long now, that your family wasn’t really sure if there was ever a time where you two had actually got along. 

four hundred years had passed.

four hundred years of pure hatred, resentment, anger and brutal animosity.

and to this day, none of them had any idea of what had happened between you—not even a clue of what might have happened, much less a theory of what really happened.

you had been inseparable. your relationship had been the envy of many who wished the same—a loyalty, trust, respect and affection like no other.

cassian and rhysand went as far as to make bets on when the two of you would finally give in, put your stubbornness aside and assume your feelings for each other.

the three friends were absolutely certain that you were destined for each other and that there was no way you would not end up together. 

but it seems that fate had other plans.

from one day to the next, just a few hours apart, in a matter of a second, everything changed. 

the sparkle in your eyes that was reserved only for azriel faded, and the smile that azriel had unlocked from his coldness and indifference meant only for you, disappeared.

over the years, the inner circle tried to reconcile you, hoping that you could put the past where it belonged and start over.

several plans were put into action, one attempt after another, but always without success.

it came very close to the desired result on many occasions, but it simply never happened.

despite everything, all the conversations, all the attempts, the two of you were never able to forget whatever had happened.

you and him would never be the same again.

and so, the inner circle stopped trying. 

but things were different now. 

everything had changed after the fall of amarantha and the liberation of prythian from her clutches.

new people had entered your lives, new alliances had been formed, and a rebuilding of a new world had begun.

but those weren’t the only changes that had occurred.

your relationship with azriel had also changed—much to your displeasure and surprise.

after all, you were no longer just enemies bound by a past.

you were now bound for the rest of your lives by a golden thread around your hearts that extended to the heart of the other.

mates. 

funny how fate works, huh?

••• 

the living room was quiet, except for the sound of the cups of tea. 

and of course, the screams coming from upstairs—your screams and azriel’s.

rhysand sipped from his teacup, sitting next to feyre who was swirling the spoon to mix honey into her tea with cassian in front of him eating a cookie while nesta tried to read a book.

rhysand sighed and ran a hand over his face, “it’s going to be a long night.”

feyre looked between cassian and rhysand, placing her teacup on the small coffee table to take a freshly baked cookie from the platter, “what exactly happened?” 

cassian answered her, his beard slightly stained with cookie crumbs. “they’re arguing about the mission. they both had different ideas about how to act and the mission ended up failing, now they blame each other.”

“you shouldn’t have sent them together,” nesta said, closing her book and holding it in her lap. 

“i know, but i had no choice, they were the only ones qualified for this mission.” rhysand defended himself, taking another sip of his tea.

before any of them could speak again, the sound of a door closing and locking echoed throughout the house, making the contents of the cups rattle. 

a minute of silence followed, all eyes fixed on the ceiling of the living room as if waiting for something.

“it seems like it’s over,” feyre whispered, as if afraid of breaking the peace that had been offered to them.

a peace that didn’t last long, because soon after they heard loud knocks on the door, followed by the calling of your name. 

“here we go again,” cassian said, biting his cookie.

••• 

firm, loud knocks sounded on your bedroom door, followed by a voice full of frustration and anger “let me in.” 

it was an order, you could tell by his tone, which only made you even more irritated.

“fuck you,” you replied back, as you finished unpacking your backpack and putting your clothes in their proper drawers.

the mission had been a fiasco and the last thing you wanted now was to continue this argument that seemed to have no end.

your blood was already boiling hot, a little push and things would be taking a very different direction. 

he knocked harder on the door, the wood creaking with the action. if that wasn’t proof of how angry he was too, his next response was.

“open the fucking door.”

“no.”

a firm and low whisper of your name escaped between his lips as a form of warning “i will barge through this door if you don’t open it right now.” 

you scoffed at his words, rolling your eyes at him even though he couldn't see you, “i'm sorry, i don't remember asking you anything.”

you didn't need your fae hearing to hear the growl he gave, you could feel his temper rising right through the door. 

he stopped knocking and you heard him turn the doorknob in hopes of opening the door, which brought a smirk to your face.

“idiot,” you whispered, your eyes on the t-shirt you were folding.

“i heard that,” a particularly loud knock landed on the door, which only caused your smirk to widen even more.

“good, that’s a sign that your old age isn’t catching up with you.”

a second whisper of your name reached your ears and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes a second time. 

“go bother someone else,” you said, your voice a little louder than usual, a sign that your patience was starting to wear thin.

“you're my mate. you're enough for now.” 

you stopped your movements and closed your eyes.

mate.

that word.

that damned, damned, damned word. 

such a small word but that it was enough to awaken the bond.

and just like that, all of your walls were down and you and azriel were one.

there was no line where you began and he ended.

the bond was strong enough to make you feel things that took all your willpower to keep from happening. 

but there were times you just couldn't resist to act on it, and this moment, was one of those times.

you left the rest of your clothes unfolded and headed towards the door before turning the key and unlocking it.

you could only hope that you were only opening the door to your bedroom for the male and not the doors to your heart. 

as you returned to your previous position, grabbing all the unfolded clothes and discarding it on the desk chair, the door to your bedroom opened.

azriel swung the door open, stepping inside the bedroom before shutting it behind him.

he leaned against it, bringing his arms to cross over his chest. his eyes darkened at the sight of you.

you were, now, standing at the foot of your bed, in just a pair of black lacy panties and a t-shirt that was about two inches down your belly button.

his expression softened slightly, making his anger falter for a second before, “when i tell you to do something, you do it. it's not a request.”

you had to bite your tongue to keep you from snapping at him. 

you knew he was talking about the mission—again—and you, at this point, were more than fed up with that talk, so, you weren't going to continue to fuel that discussion. 

you turned to him, your eyes meeting his, “excuse me? say that again and my hand will be on your face faster than you can pronounce the word ‘mommy’.” 

azriel pushed himself off the door and walked towards you, he now wore a smirk on his face caused by your words. 

“go ahead, love. i won’t stop you,” he said, his tone dripping with that arrogant confidence of his, “even though you’re just all talk, you and i both know you don’t have the guts to lay a finger on me.”

the corners of your lips rose, and you studied him as he got closer and closer to you, his eyes sliding over your figure.

you took advantage of his brief moment of distraction to stretch your arm behind you towards the bag before grabbing your favorite object, the one that could describe you in the best way—brilliant and lethal.

one moment the male's eyes were on your legs, and then they were on the blade of the dagger that was now pressed against the skin of his neck, the cold material contrasting with his warm skin.

"are you sure about that, shadowsinger?" your smirk remained intact as you studied his reaction.

your smirk turned into a full grin, a hint of amusement in your eyes, “what’s wrong, baby? cat got your tongue?”

just like your smirk, azriel's also changed, his eyes taking on the same amusement as yours and when he took a step back, you took a step forward.

“you don’t look very threatening right now, love.” his hand found your hip, but somehow, to his surprise, you didn't push it away.

he took the chance to slide his hand under your small shirt to rest in the same place as before, but with his scarred hand now touching your soft skin.

“i’m not your ‘love’.” you said, the tip of your dagger pressing a little harder against his skin.

as a reflex, azriel lifted his chin to give you better access, his smile still in place, “you almost had me, love. but you are definitely giving me ‘bad girl on the outside but sweet girl on the inside’ sort of vibes.” 

you couldn't help but laugh, your eyes now shining with amusement at your banter “do you want to know what kind of vibes you give me?”

you continued to walk in sync, one step back and another forward until the male's back hit the wall, him resting his back against the surface at the same time his hand gave your hip a light squeeze.

“hm, do tell me, love.”

you leaned forward, just enough so that your chests were a few inches from touching and your voice lowered two tenths, your tone now low and sensual “small dick vibes.”

his smirk fell from his face, he clenched his jaw and his hand on your hip pulled you to stand closer to him while his free hand reached up slowly to wrap around your hand that was still holding the dagger against his skin “care to repeat that, love?”

you took another step towards him, your smirk never faltering for a second, “small dick vibes.”

he looked at you with a sharp gaze before his face turned into a smug expression, a grin forming on his lips as he tugged you closer to him and his voice dropping to almost a whisper, “hm, you want to find out just how big it is?”

his smile grew when this time, it was your smile that disappeared and something unknown shone in your eyes.

suddenly, your breathing become heavier and your heartbeat faster.

the mating bond playing its role in perfection at the worst of times.

“no. . . ” you managed to say after a long moment of silence in which you just stared into his hazel eyes.

azriel’s hand let go of your hand that was holding the sparkling object and reached out to touch you, pushing your hair behind your shoulder and then fitting it on your neck.

“your lips say no, but your body says a different answer.”

you snapped out of the trance you were in, all reactions due to his proximity, before pushing him against the wall and shaking his hands off you, “get off me.” 

he let you push him against the wall, placing his hands at his sides for support. a hint of irritation invaded his eyes while maintaining eye contact with you the entire time.

“are you going to use that dagger then, love? or are you just going to use your pretty little hands instead?”

when you didn’t respond back, his grin grew and he tilted his head down so his eyes were level with yours, and he spoke softly, in a tone of arrogance and sensuality, “or maybe you just want to use your pretty little mouth.”

the room was invaded by a loud noise as the palm of your hand made contact with his skin, causing his head to spin completely to the side with the impact.

“asshole,” you said, your voice almost a shout, as you watched his cheek turn red from your hard slap. 

he kept his head turned to the side for a moment as the room fell silent before slowly turning it back to you. 

his gaze was hard and his voice sharp when he spoke next, “gods, i fucking hate you,” he said before crashing his lips in yours.

•••

once again, all eyes were on the living room ceiling.

the family members were trying to detect any sounding—a scream, a slap, furniture breaking, anything.

but they found nothing.

complete silence.

slowly they lowered their hands to look at each others. 

“it's. . .quiet,” feyre said.

“that's. . .unusual, and concerning.” rhysand added, looking at cassian. 

“what do you think they're doing upstairs?” cassian asked, looking between the three of them.

“honestly,” nesta said, opening her book again and starting to read “probably killing each other.” 

•••

azriel’s hand slide to the back of your neck before gripping it firmly and pulling you against him, capturing your lips in a hard, demanding kiss, desperate to shut you up.

you didn’t waste a second in kissing him back, your hand dropping the dagger at your feet to find his face. 

his hand on your neck joined his free hand and both slid down to your ass, squeezing it for a moment, before sliding to the back of your thighs and lifting you off the ground.

your legs encircled his waist, a gesture that felt so natural, as if they had always belonged there.

azriel reversed your positions, now pressing you against the wall. he deepened the kiss, his hands returning to your ass holding you in place and drawing a gasp from you.

in turn, your hands left his face and traveled to his shoulders, your fists closing around the fabric of his shirt and pulling it up.

the male grinned at your action and broke the kiss, his lips an inch apart as he spoke with his breath against your face “do you want me that bad, love?”

“shut the fuck up,” you demanded, not wasting time in crashing your lips against his once more.

but soon enough, azriel was pulling back again, “just admit it. admit it, you’re that desperate for me.”

he seriously needed to start reading the room better because this was definitely not the time to be with this lameness.

you grabbed his jaw, your hand pulling him closer to you, “azriel,” your tone was almost lethal, leaving no room for argument, “you either shut up and fuck me or you leave.”

 he went still for a moment, his breathing heavy with his eyes roaming your eyes and lips. 

“you’re so irritating,” he pulled off the wall and soon, your back hit the mattress, and azriel moved to hover over you, his hands on either side of your head.

“good choice,” you said, grabbing his neck and kissing him hungrily.

he bent his legs and spread them so that your legs would also spread apart with the movement, the back of your thighs resting against his and his knees on each side of your hips.

he rose up on his knees, breaking the kiss and bringing his hands to the hem of your t-shirt, tugging it impatiently, “this needs to come off.”

“then what the hell are you waiting for?” you asked, looking up at him, your chest rising and falling rapidly.

his eyes darkened and without any warning, he grabbed in the middle of your shirt and ripped it off of you in a swift and precise move. he threw what was left of it to the floor before he looked down at you, his gaze drinking you in.

“gods, you’re beautiful.”

“i know.”

he chuckled at your words, and removed his t-shirt as well. he leaned down again, and pressed his lips against your neck, finding your pulse point, leaving wet kisses as he traced a path to your collarbone. 

his lips continued its path, reaching your bare chest. he buried his head between your breasts before moving to one of your breasts and closing his mouth around your nipple. 

you closed your eyes in response, a soft moan escaping your lips as you arched your back off the mattress.

he turned his attention to your other breast, aiming to elicit the same response from you again, and when you did and he was satisfied, he lifted his head to look at you.

he kept his eyes on yours as he lowered his lips against your skin to place one last kiss, sending a shiver down your spine.

azriel rose up on his knees again and once again, studied you for a long moment, “you’re a sight to behold,” he murmured, his scarred hands caressing the bare skin of your thighs.

“i know,” you repeated, breathlessly.

he laughed, and lowered himself against you, kissing your neck, and leaning to whisper in your ear “you’re so cocky, love.” 

he nuzzled his nose against your neck, just below your ear, biting that sensitive part gently and eliciting another moan from you.

your hand traveled to the back of his head and when you found his hair, you tugged on it, “honest,” you corrected him.

he let out a moan of pleasure, and he turned to look at you, “honest,” he said, and his lips began to place kisses again towards your chest, but this time going lower and lower.

you let go of his hair and brought your hand to the top of his head to pat it softly, “good boy.”

he growled at your words, his eyes finding yours again and his hand gripping your thigh in annoyance, “don’t call me that.”

your smirk returned, and when azriel saw the mischief in your eyes, he knew you weren’t going to let go of that, and how right he was. you lifted your torso on your forearms, and repeated “good boy.”

he turned his head to bite the inside of your thigh before letting out a low growl again, “say that again and i’ll turn you into a goddamn mess.”

your hand returned to the top of his head and your fingers slid through his silky hair before gripping his strands in a clenched fist, “good. . .boy.”

he growled again, and lowered his head to place one last kiss on your stomach, before grabbing your legs, lifting them from his thighs and spinning you around on the bed.

with you now lying on your stomach, the male’s hand landed on your ass with a firm smack before gripping your hips and pulling you against him, placing you on your hands and knees.

“hold on tight, love. you’re in for it now.” he warned, before starting to undo the ties of his pants. you hid your smile in your arm, and waited for him to get rid of his clothes, missing his skin when he got up from the bed to do so before returning.

an unexpected moan escaped you when you felt his bare skin on yours.

azriel's hands found the fabric of your lacy panties and just like your t-shirt, in a matter of seconds, they were ripped on the floor.

“those were my favorite pair, you idiot.”

azriel smirked and placed a kiss on your lower back, before gently smacking your ass again.

“i’ll buy you new ones, love, don’t worry.”

“you better. fucking asshole.” you muttered but not low enough to stop him from hearing, your face turned behind to look at him over your shoulder. 

azriel placed his hands on your hips again and pulled you against him once more.

one hand now rested on your lower back, while the other grabbed his member and brought it to your entrance. 

he brushed against your folds, causing your toes to curl, “look at you, all ready for me.” 

you rolled your eyes at him, causing him to chuckle and giving your ass another smack “watch the attitude, love. you’re not in a position to sass me.”

“or what?”

azriel grinned before pushing forward and entering you in one long and deep thrust and the room was filled with your moans mixing.

azriel closed his eyes and let his head fall back, a string of curses escaping from his lips. 

your hands gripped the sheet, and you bit your lower lip to stop yourself from following the same path as azriel and letting out a bunch of profanities.

giving you a moment to adjust, azriel’s hands caressed the skin of your lower back and ass, running them up and down in soft circles.

“you're okay?” azriel surprised himself with the question but didn't take it back. his eyes were focused on the back of your head. 

“going soft on me, shadowsinger?” you asked, your eyes open and a cocky smirk on your face.

“never,” he said, his hand landing on your ass a third time before he started moving his hips gently and slowly at first.

your moans began to mix with azriel's as he increased his pace. 

was all he could hear, your moans and how fast and heavy your breathing was.

he didn't need to hear your heartbeat to know that it was beating just as wildly as his, just like he didn’t need you to tell him that this didn’t feel like a regular sexual encounter. 

he knew perfectly well that you were feeling much more than just that, and so was he.

it was as if your senses were even more heightened during this moment, everything was more intense, deep and alive—the mating bond doing its part. 

azriel couldn't help but think about the words his brothers had said earlier and how right they were—nothing could compare to being with your mate, there was no comparison that could be made. 

“this doesn’t change anything,” you said, your voice breaking him from his thoughts.

azriel groaned, both in pleasure and irritation. he couldn't agree with your statement, because he didn't know if he could continue to remain indifferent to you, and to be honest, he didn't know if he wanted to continue that way. 

his brain screamed one thing while his heart screamed another. 

“we’ll see about that,” he said simply, increasing the pace of his thrusts, letting the little irritation he felt guided him. 

the change in pace caused your moans to increase in pitch, your body going forward with each thrust. 

“you’re such an asshole,” you said with a heavy breathing, one that matched with azriel’s.

“and you’re infuriating.” he shot back.

“jerk,”

“brat,”

“bitch,”

at your name call, azriel had to blink his eyes several times to make sure he hadn't just imagined that, that those words had actually come out of your mouth and been directed at him. 

“excuse me?” he asked, his hip movements never giving in. 

“i said. . .bitch,” you repeated, clearly you had no problem repeating your insults directed at him but on the other hand, why would you? 

azriel didn't scare you and you were definitely not afraid of him, in fact you didn't even have any reason to be.

despite your many arguments, exchanged insults and sometimes slaps, punches and knees, you would never be able to seriously hurt each other. 

and not just because the bond didn't allow it but because you were physically incapable of such a thing—and you both knew it, even if you'd never admit it.

azriel couldn't help the smile that crept onto his face, you calling him 'bitch' was just too funny. 

one hand remained on your hip while the other slid up your bare back, reaching the length of your hair and wrapping it around his hand before pulling, making you arch your back and lift your head. 

the moan you let out sent a shiver down azriel's spine, causing the hairs on his arms to stand up, “is that so?”

the pace of his movements accelerated, his thrusts now stronger but still deep, making you feel every inch that came out and went back in. 

“who’s the bitch now?” he asked as he continued his brutal—but very welcoming by you—pace.

“you, you’re my bitch, shadowsinger,” you managed, your moans being temporarily replaced by a big, heartily laugh.

azriel was glad you found that funny because he didn’t. 

his hand left your hip and went to the middle of your back. azriel pushed you down, your chest now against the mattress, changing the angle of your hips. 

the change of angle allowed azriel to go deeper, making you feel every inch of his length and thickness. 

your mouth fell into the shape of an 'o', and you lowered your head between your arms. for a few minutes all that could be heard were your moans, your inability to form words causing amusement in the male behind you. 

“what’s wrong, love? cat got your tongue?” he said, using the same words you used against him moments before.

“fuck you,”

“i already am, love.” he said, bringing his hand to the curve of your ass.

“fucking asshole,” you murmured. 

“language,” azriel’s grin widened, his expression becoming more cocky.

the sound of skin against skin, along with the muffled sounds of moans and heavy breathing filled the room, blurring the windows and the mirror above the dresser.

“i hate you,” you replied, stretching your arms out in front of you on the mattress and tilting your head back a little when you felt azriel tugging lightly on your hair. 

“the feeling is mutual, love,” the male replied with his smile still intact, his hand releasing your hair and coming to rest on your lower back. 

shortly after, your breathing became heavier and heavier as that sweet sensation grew in your cores. 

you raised yourself up on your arms, starting to move your hips in sync with azriel's, the movements meeting in the middle. 

“don’t stop,” you said softly, but your tone carried an order.

both of your moans grew louder, your release getting closer. 

azriel used his hands to squeeze your ass, a gesture that caused you to clench around him and which provoked azriel to deliver a particularly strong and deep thrust.

together, with a loud moan and a deep growl, you and azriel achieved your release. 

the male continued his movements, getting you both through it until there was nothing left. 

you collapsed on top of the bed with the male following right after you, your entire body now against the mattress and his body on top of yours.

azriel’s chest was against your back, his arms came to wrap around your neck and shoulders keeping you encaged between him and the mattress.

his forehead rested your shoulder blades while yours rested on his muscular arms.

you were both silent for a long moment, as you worked on catching your breaths and calming your hearts that were still beating like crazy. 

after a few minutes, you raised your head and placed wet kisses on his biceps. 

as you traced a path on his arms, azriel spoke, his voice quiet and slightly still out of breath, “i missed this.”

your movements faltered, and you looked into the empty for a few seconds before allowing yourself to say, “yes, i missed this too,” a beat of silence and then, “but you’re still an asshole,” you said, your breathing almost back to normal.

“hm, have you noticed that you insult me a lot? is it because i’m illyirian?” azriel asked, half serious, half joking. 

“what?” you asked in surprise, turning your head to the side to meet his face, “no, of course not. i insult you because you irritate me and because rhysand said that insulting is much healthier than hitting you.” 

azriel laughed, a genuine smile replacing his smirk of before.

“but i’m serious, azriel,” you kept your eyes on his, “i don’t care if you're illyrian. i never saw you as anything other than the male you are, not even as a bastard. you never were one, at least not in my eyes.” 

azriel remained quiet, his smile slowly disappearing from his face in contemplation of your words. he couldn't hide his surprise, after your disagreement, this was the nicest thing you had said to him in all those centuries.

his heart tightened in his chest, and he sighed, lowering his head towards your shoulder and placing a kiss before looking you in the eyes again and whispering a small 'thank you'. 

you nodded and turned your head forward, running your hands through your hair as the male watched you for a moment before lifting himself off of you, taking all of his weight off. 

carefully, he pulled out and with a hand on your hip, he turned you to lie down on the bed, your back against the mattress with the softness of the sheets caressing your skin.

azriel parted your legs and kept his eyes on you for a second longer than necessary before lowering himself. 

he settled between your thighs, pushing in again until he was completely buried inside of you before bringing his forearms to rest on each side of your head.

as he looked at you, his gaze now holded something different, something unknown to not only him but to you too.

his hands found your hair, meddling with it, until his thumb found the skin of your forehead and softly caressed it.

you looked up at him, studying him with the same intensity he was, wrapping your legs around his waist, with one ankle over the other—as if to make sure he couldn't escape. 

azriel lowered his head, his nose brushing against yours, one, two, three times before he whispered very lowly, “i hate you.” 

in turn, your hands found the skin of his back, until they went down and found the beginning of his wings, caressing them tenderly.

you watched azriel's eyes being invaded by pleasure and felt his skin heating up.

“i hate you,” you said back, in a soft whisper that could only be meant for his ears and not the world.

your tones of voice were now loaded with different feelings and with different meanings.

it was now your tones that made clear what your words did not. 

all the words that were not spoken, all the thoughts that were not revealed and all the feelings that remained hidden, were sealed by a kiss.

a kiss that old books and stories could only describe as a kiss of true love.

•••

the sun was already peeking through the curtains, the light of a new morning warming the room and hitting the male who was still sleeping peacefully next to you.

with your head resting on his bicep, you looked at his sleeping face while your hand slid through his black curls, gently pulling them back.

you sighed. four hundred years had to pass before you could be back in his arms but still, after last night, you couldn't forget the past.

no matter how hard you tried, those events would always be in the back of your mind.

your hand fell to his face, tracing the line of his jaw before settling on his cheek, your thumb caressing his skin.

you could feel the bond swimming through your veins, telling you that this was where you belonged, that this was where you always belonged.

but your brain screamed at you to run away.

you took a deep breath, and your hand slid to his lips, caressing his lower lip, ignoring the burning you felt in your eyes. 

unable to hold it in any longer, you closed your eyes and gently brushed your nose against his chin, feeling your heart tighten more and more—with longing and pain. 

“i hate that i love you,” you whispered. 

you let yourself stay in his arms, savoring his touch and his smell for a few more seconds before lifting his arm from your waist and getting out of bed. 

grabbing your clothes, you tiptoed to the door before quietly opening it and entering the hallway, but not without looking back at the male sleeping in your bed one last time. 

with a heavy chest, you left the room and closed the door. 

and you didn’t allow yourself to look back.

a/n: thank you for reading!

general taglist: @emryb @fantasyandshit @azrielover @shadowsingercassia @littlelou22 @brieflyclassymortal @lilah-asteria @meul-a @lure-of-writing @pruvii @olive-main @mybestfriendmademe @anuttellaa @mrsjnalvarez @lively-potter @avajustreads @talesofadragon @circe143 @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @dark-chaos-314 @tequilya @scoliobean @saltedcoffeescotch @charlotteintumbleland @agirlwithwifiandalaptop @987coley @mahiiis-world

*if you asked to be tagged and you weren't, it's because i couldn't find your blog.

dividers by @cafekitsune

[lazysoulwriter]

until the end. - pedro pascal.

requested! thank you so much for sending.

---

Pedro hadn't wanted you there at first.

"It’s gonna be ugly," he'd said, tugging you close in bed the night before. "Brutal. You don’t need to see it."

But the moment his voice cracked — the smallest tremor — you knew he needed you far more than he realized. So you went.

The set was colder than you expected — not just physically, but emotionally, too. Everyone was professional, respectful, quiet. There was a certain heaviness in the air, a collective understanding: this was the scene.

Joel's end.

You found a corner near the monitors, out of the way but within Pedro's line of sight. He spotted you instantly, his shoulders relaxing just a little.

You offered him a small smile, your fingers curling into a heart across your chest. Pedro smirked — a soft, private thing — before disappearing into character.

Watching him die was harder than you thought it would be.

Even though you knew the script. Even though you knew it was fake. Even though you knew Pedro was right there, breathing, alive. It didn’t matter.

The first take, you had to clamp your hand over your mouth to keep from making a sound. The second, you had tears streaming down your face.

By the third, you were practically vibrating with the need to just hold him.

Pedro was too good — too real — and seeing him broken, bloodied, gasping for air... it shattered something inside you. And it broke him, too.

Between takes, he'd shuffle off the set, still half in character, his face caked in horrifying makeup — bruises, cuts, blood. You could see it: the way his shoulders curled inward, the way he struggled to shake off the sadness clinging to him.

Without thinking, you rushed to him.

Someone must've snapped a picture right then — you wrapping your arms around Pedro, burying your face in his chest like you could protect him from the script itself. Pedro clinging back just as tightly, his hands trembling slightly against your spine.

In full dead-Joel makeup, he looked terrifying. But to you, he was just Pedro. Your Pedro.

You kissed his jaw, whispered, "I'm here, I'm here, I'm here," like a mantra only he was meant to hear.

He breathed out a shaky laugh, squeezing you harder. "You shouldn’t have come," he rasped, voice thick with emotion. "You needed me," you murmured back, pulling away just enough to cup his battered-looking face in your hands.

Another picture captured the moment his forehead pressed to yours, his fake blood smearing across your skin, neither of you caring.

You stayed like that for a long time — just holding each other, grounding each other — until the director gently called him back.

Pedro kissed your forehead once, lingering. "Stay where I can see you," he whispered.

You nodded, your heart in pieces.

The rest of the day blurred into a series of heartbreaking takes, whispered reassurances, and moments where Pedro would glance over, find your eyes, and remember he wasn't really alone in all this.

At one point, between scenes, you climbed into his lap in a quiet corner, wrapping yourself around him like armor. He buried his face in your neck, breathing you in.

Someone took a picture of that too.

And another, later, when it was all over — when Pedro, still painted like a corpse, cradled you as you cried silently into his shoulder, overwhelmed by everything you'd seen. He rocked you gently, whispering soothing nonsense into your hair.

"I'm okay, cariño. It's just pretend. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

The BTS pictures dropped a week later.

The fandom imploded.

There you were, in shot after shot — holding Pedro like your life depended on it, him holding you back, both of you wearing your hearts on your sleeves.

#protectpedropascal trended within minutes. #protecthisgirl wasn't far behind.

Tweets poured in:

"They’re literally saving each other." "How am I supposed to survive knowing Pedro Pascal cuddled his wife through fake death?" "Someone write fanfic about THEM, they’re the real love story." "This is the most devastating and healing thing I’ve ever seen."

Pedro reposted one of the pictures on his Instagram story — the one where you were cradling his battered face, forehead to forehead. No caption. Just a heart.

You, watching from the couch, sniffled pathetically.

Pedro grinned, pulling you into his arms.

"You saved me that day," he said softly.

"You saved me too," you whispered back.

And you would — over and over again, for the rest of your lives.

Until the end. And beyond.

-----

[katya-1917]

In theory, my mother is very trans accepting and a good ally. She signs petitions and goes to protests and writes to our legislators. But when it comes to her own family...

She cannot accept both my brother being a trans man and me having some other form of gender fuckery going on, because being a mother of girls is such a core part of her identity. Losing one of her daughters when my brother came out was a blow, but one she took in stride, after a bit (and I couldn't do anything then except stand between her and my brother, protecting him from her and Dad's instinctive reactive transphobia as much as I could, while trying to divert Mum to doing girl stuff with me - realising issues with my own gender as I stopped having to be Dad's substitute for a son simply because I was the oldest girl, but I couldn't do anything about it, I had to be a cis girl to protect him and encourage people to treat him as a boy, by acting as a contrast), but losing us both would destroy her, and women like her, blows like that... they don't quietly implode, they explode and try to destroy everyone they blame for the matter in the process.

She's never called him a "gender traitor" or the like (to his face, anyway), but me... yeah. I think she blamed my lifelong nonconformity and tomboyishness on having to play the role of Dad's son with him and his brothers, doing stupid dangerous little boy crap for the entertainment of adult men who should know better. And then when my brother was obviously more boy than me and took that role far more willingly, she got mad at both of us, but me far more openly, that nothing really changed. Oh, sure, I wore more skirts, to make people notice he was wearing boys' trousers, but it's not like my *behaviour* was any more feminine.

My mother understands on paper that gender is not always binary or static. But her tolerance for losing her daughters hit its maximum at one of us, and so... in practice, she can't accept that I'm not always a girl, and even when I am, I don't know or care how to do a lot of stereotypical girl stuff. It's not exactly mistreatment for being transmasc so much as nasty happenstance of being AFAB, not being a binary woman, and being the second of two siblings to come out, but... yeah, it's something that probably wouldn't have happened if I was AMAB and had the same gender problem. Fluidity is weird, but my mum's seemingly made it her life's mission to make mine suck even more than it already does.

It’s just so weird that I can say “I was treated badly by my mother in a way that only happened because I came out as a trans man and would not have happened had I been a cis woman or a trans woman because my masculinity and status as a “gender traitor” was the problem” and a portion of this website will look at my experiences and go “you were just experiencing general transphobia and/or misogyny :)” and not take a single second to listen to what I actually said. Like I am not going to sit here and have this godforsaken website gaslight me about my own experiences when I’m about to kill myself over the way my mother treats my trans masculinity.

Being a trans man was the reason for my fucking abuse. You do not get to tell me that what I experienced was not fucking targeted.

[ginsdelusions]

I absolutely adored your recent Mydei x Reader fic based off the Odyssey. It’s beautiful and one of my favorites so far.

I wanna ask if you can write a piece from Mydei’s POV? Like his reaction to learning from his son that his wife is being forced to pick a suitor in his absence because everyone thinks he’s dead (I assume it was his son who told him about this based off what happens in the Odyssey).

Hi! I am so glad to hear that!! I took some creative liberty regarding Mydei and his son’s meeting since neither the original Odyssey nor the Epic: the Musical versions fit the first fic I made nor the character of Mydei imo. I definitely think I should mention that I did not play the Amphoreus quests yet, so everything I know about Mydei is from fellow fics, edits and his googled voice lines ✨ I hope that this is what you were hoping for <3 For reference, this can be read as a prequel to this piece

It’s been twenty years. Twenty years of suffering, trials, tribulations and most importantly, 20 years away from home. Away from you. Away from his son. How much had he changed? Would you reject him after knowing what he’d done? Would you be appalled by his change? Would you refuse him as your husband? All these questions remained unanswered, and he was uncertain about the future. He was certain about one thing, though - his love for you had never changed. You were the only thing keeping him grounded, his resolve.

And finally, after 20 years of agony, waiting and voyaging, he had returned. The King of Castrum Kremnos himself, Mydeimos the Strife. He had returned.

Heavy, metallic footsteps guided him off the ship. New scars adorned his body, new experience had gathered in his mind, and new strength had fuelled his strife, as he walked toward the city he left behind, heading toward the castle. As he walked through his rightful kingdom, he noticed how the stadium was fully crowded. Peculiar.

Golden eyes caught a hooded figure’s eyes on himself. Stopping his march, the king’s eyes caught his follower’s. “Come down and reveal yourself”, he rasped. The figure jumped down from its hideout, weapon drawn. “State your name and your business”, Mydei’s gaze pierced through the person, the sharply armoured hands clenched themselves into fists as he put himself into a fighting stance.

The hooded figure seemed to hesitate for a moment, before the hood was removed. Mydei’s breath hitched. ‘Could this be..?’ His sun-like eyes were met with equally golden ones. Before him stood a man, around 20 years old, quite tall, with a toned built and hair looking just like his own. His features resembled his own, but reflected another person’s as well. The Queen’s.

Surprise and disbelief mirrored themselves in their eyes.

“Father?”

“Son?”

The young prince did not know what to say, or how to react. Neither did his father. So many things happened, so many tales untold, so many years wasted without one another. But now, it all had changed.

“All my life I would’ve died to know you. I’ve thought about your name and your stories. For 20 years, I’ve dreamt of how I’d greet you… yet, now that this moment has finally arrived.. I.. don’t quite know what to say”, the man stuttered. Mydei looked at him, his fiery gaze loving. “My son.. I am proud to see that you’ve grown so much. There has not been a day that I have not thought about you. There is so much I wish to say to you, so many tales that I wish to share, and so many more I wish to hear from you-”, the king was interrupted by some quiet roars coming from the stadium, screaming about the queen.

Mydei looked at his son concerned, “What was that just now?” “The challenge within the stadium”, the younger one lowered his gaze. “What challenge? Where is your mother? Telemachus, what is going on here?”, Mydei’s tone was steady, an eerie mixture of calm and calculating, reminiscent of the calm before a storm.

He looked up at his father. “Mother… she refused to betray you. The council has deemed you dead. They’ve been trying to pressure her into choosing another suitor.” Of all the things that he expected to have happened, that was not it. “Deemed me dead, huh? Even though they know that their king is immortal”, Mydei clicked his tongue disapprovingly, as silent rage channelled itself within him. “At first she managed to delay it by claiming that she will once she finishes weaving her shroud”, a chuckle left Telemachus’ throat. “Only that she kept unweaving all the work she did once night fell.” Mydei’s gaze was fond, and the corners of his mouth moved upward. ‘That’s my wife.’ “Smart as always.”

“Another while later, they started pestering her again. As a last resort, she’d arranged a challenge, which would only take place once all other options have been exhausted. Whoever can wield your spear and slice evenly through 12 targets cleanly in a single strike shall rule alongside her. That challenge is.. currently taking place.” Upon hearing this, the warrior started laughing. The roars from the arena got louder. “To think that these bastards pressured my wife into this… I must admit, they are daring. But my, my… I would lie if I claimed that she was not meant to be a Queen.”

The commotion had worsened by now; an outburst of pure anger and rage consumed the stadium. Mydei looked at his son. “Telemachus, lead me to your mother. Let us show the Queen that her long awaited husband has returned.”

[sh4nksslvt]

hellooo I really like your work and would like to request some angst

maybe like reader dies or gets close to it. some more uncommon charcters too like nami, usopp, or franky please!!

thank you for really cool work and I hope you can do this!!

hii! thank u sm~ oohh~ thats a great idea, ive decided to put them all together, hope u like it!

What Remains

The Straw Hats survive a Marine superweapon test — but only because you don’t. You made a choice to save them all, and they didn’t see it coming.

strawhats x platonic gn! reader tags: angst, sfw, ooc, major character death, platonic bonds, grief a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only, so expect this ffs a bit cringe word count: 1k

masterlist | ko-fi

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

Smoke curled upward from the scorched ruins of the Marine testing island. The sky was dim, bleeding orange as the sun tried and failed to burn away the choking clouds.

They found your body beneath the collapsed structure—arms still raised like you were shielding the others even in death.

It wasn’t the injuries that broke them. It was the look on your face.

Peaceful.

Like you knew.

ONE WEEK EARLIER.

"These weapons..." Franky said, examining the diagrams. "They’re worse than anything Vegapunk ever dreamed up. They’re built to erase islands."

“And they’re testing them here?” Nami’s voice trembled with disbelief.

Usopp peered over the map. “That’s not all. Some of this... it’s Poneglyph script. These freaks are mixing history with firepower.”

You didn’t say anything.

You just stared at the map. Quiet. Calm. Like a storm on the horizon no one else had seen yet.

“We have to stop this,” you said.

Of course, everyone agreed.

But none of them saw what you saw. None of them realized the cost yet.

Not even you.

THE BATTLE.

The Straw Hats split into teams. Luffy and Zoro drew the front lines away. Robin sabotaged the comms. Brook and Jinbei distracted the guards. Chopper tended to wounded civilians trying to escape.

You were supposed to go in with Franky and Usopp.

You didn’t.

You slipped away the moment they weren’t looking, whispering your last words to Nami before disappearing into the smoke.

“I trust you. Don’t look back.”

You found the core buried deep underground.

A thrumming vault of seastone and ancient script, glowing with stolen knowledge and raw destruction.

You knew what it meant.

You could read the Poneglyph fragments embedded in the weapons.

You knew what would happen if they were activated.

So you made a choice.

A selfish, irreversible choice.

You overloaded the core.

THE AFTERMATH.

When the blast hit, it carved a crater into the earth.

Luffy felt it first—his scream carried across the island like a cannon blast. “(Y/N)!!”

Franky’s stomach dropped. He bolted toward the smoke, ignoring everything—orders, pain, fire.

Usopp followed. Nami, too. She didn’t even speak. Her Clima-Tact sparked wildly, emotions bleeding into weather.

They dug with bare hands and bleeding fingers.

And finally, they found you.

Still. Burned. Crushed.

But unmistakably you.

And unmistakably gone.

THE SUNNY.

Franky hadn’t spoken in two days.

He sat in the engine room, back turned to everyone, arms blackened with soot and oil. He worked until his hands bled, building gods knew what.

Chopper had tried to check on him. Franky didn’t even look up.

Usopp wandered the deck in silence, eyes red, mouth dry. He hadn’t told a single story since they left the island.

He’d tried. He opened his mouth once to make a joke, and nothing came out.

So he just sat with your grave marker, talking to it like you were there.

And Nami—Nami was broken in a way no one had ever seen.

She didn’t cry loudly. She didn’t scream. She just shut down.

She went days without food. Sat curled in the crow’s nest, staring out to sea, clutching the note you left her in your final moments.

"Don’t look back."

She hated you for it.

She loved you for it.

She never stopped shaking.

NIGHT.

Luffy stood by the railing, his hat pulled low, wind in his face.

Sanji stood beside him in silence.

“You knew they were gonna die,” Luffy said suddenly. His voice wasn’t angry. It was hollow.

Sanji lit a cigarette, fingers shaking. “I knew they weren’t coming back.”

Luffy didn’t answer.

“They saved all of us,” Sanji added after a long pause.

“I didn’t want saving,” Luffy whispered.

Then he turned and walked away.

FRANKY.

The machine he was building exploded.

He didn’t flinch.

Robin found him hours later, crouched beside the wreckage, staring into space.

“They’d have slapped me for this,” he said quietly.

Robin knelt beside him. “For what?”

“For not stopping them.”

“They knew what they were doing.”

“That doesn’t make it easier.”

Robin placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “It never does.”

USOPP.

He buried the dials you used in a small, unmarked box.

Every trap you helped him design, every gadget you tweaked. Gone. Hidden away like a secret.

“I’m never going to be that brave,” he whispered.

Then he broke.

Ugly, shaking sobs that echoed across the deck.

NAMI.

She didn’t speak for three days.

Then, she found Franky. Slammed him into a wall.

“You let them go alone!” she screamed.

Franky didn’t fight back. “I know.”

“YOU PROMISED—YOU PROMISED ME THEY’D COME BACK—!”

He wrapped his arms around her mid-swing, held her as she sobbed, her fists pounding against his chest until they were too weak to lift.

ONE WEEK LATER.

Luffy called everyone to the deck.

No one knew why.

When they arrived, they found him standing in front of a small, newly-built monument.

A single beam of the destroyed fortress. Carved with your name.

And beneath it—your jacket. Cleaned. Pressed. Folded neatly.

Luffy didn’t speak.

He didn’t need to.

They stood together. Silent.

One by one, they left offerings.

Sanji placed a bottle of sake.

Robin left a single violet flower.

Chopper tied a string of charms around the wood.

Zoro leaned his sword against it for a moment. A quiet nod of respect.

Brook played a low, mournful tune on his violin.

Jinbei lit a lantern and pushed it into the sea.

Usopp placed a small slingshot on the beam.

Franky left a blueprint.

And Nami… Nami placed your note. The last one you ever wrote.

“Don’t look back.”

She whispered, “I’m going to.”

Then she walked away.

.

.

.

They kept your room the way it was.

No one said it aloud—but they all visited.

Nami would sit on your bed when the nightmares came.

Usopp would fix the shelves you always overloaded with junk.

Franky recharged your tools every week, even though you weren’t there to use them.

And Luffy…

Luffy would sit on the figurehead, facing forward, holding your jacket in his lap.

He never cried where anyone could see.

But the jacket was always warm.

As if it still remembered you.

[ahundredtimesover]

Something About You (05) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

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

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

Word count: 22.1k

Series Masterlist

Status: Ongoing

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

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

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

A/N: This is a long one! If you're reading this, I hope you feel the flutter of butterflies and that warmth I felt while writing. ☺️ And definitely listen to  Beautiful Soul and Yes or No!

“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive?”

You turn to Jungkook with a questioning look, waiting to see if he’ll change his mind. He’s been the one driving whenever you have a trip and you offered to be the one to drive both of you to the airport this time but he refused. While you know he enjoys this, you thought it might be nice to let him rest even a little bit.

“You’ve had a long day.”

“So have you,” he answers. “And you know I don’t mind. You can just sleep during the drive and then again during the flight.”

You pout again because of his refusal to accept your offer but you let him and no longer argue. Perhaps it’s what he needs after the day he’s had.

It’s a Thursday and there’s a long weekend ahead, which is why this trip to Jeju was scheduled at this time. Taehyung leaves for New York in three weeks and Seokjin and Hayoung are getting married in two months. This is the perfect time to get the group together again before the three of them go through major life changes, and none of you would miss it for the world. 

You had a Board presentation that you couldn’t miss in the afternoon and Jungkook had classes until 3 PM, which then extended because of a parent meeting he had to attend. It’s why both of you had to book the later flight while everyone else flew in at noon. They sent a photo of all of them gathered by the pool at the rented house, and you couldn’t wait to finally clock out and switch off so you could relax and enjoy, too, even for just a few days.

Jungkook instructs you to buckle your seatbelt then heads off, undoubtedly tired but still alert and cautious while driving. You look at him and try to see if something’s different, if this really is the same man you’ve known for years. You look away at the reminder that yes, he is, and he’s not the one that’s changed. It’s probably you.

“Everything okay?” He asks as he glances at your direction.

“Yup,” you answer too quickly. “Just… you know, tired and excited.”

“Take a nap then,” he suggests. “Time will fly by and we’ll be at the airport and then in Jeju before you know it.”

“I’m fine. I can, uh, keep you company or something,” you shrug. “You kinda don’t have a choice.”

“I don’t mind it,” he says, the little dip on his cheek forming as he smiles.

Has he always looked this charming?

You shake your head as if to snap out of it. 

It’ll take an hour to get to Incheon. You feel like you’d miss out if you slept and you internally scold yourself because a month ago, you totally would’ve dozed off right away. 

Well, not this time. But even if it’s your own choice to stay up, you suppose that the universe was still playing with you because of all the times to be stuck with Jungkook, it just had to be now when your heart has been acting a little too weird.

It started right after the college reunion party almost two weeks ago. You had him sleep over at your place after some asshole busted his lip, and that’s when the thoughts of possible feelings started invading your mind. You blame Jimin, really, and you’d contemplated on keeping your distance from Jungkook to sort yourself out but that’s impossible given this trip.

It didn’t help that you promised his students you’d watch their final taekwondo match - which they won - so you spent last Saturday with him, too. 

Your heart still kept doing that thing, especially whenever you found your eyes locked on him even if he wasn’t even the one on the mat. You went out to dinner after that, and you couldn’t help but pay attention - to the way he cooked your samgyeopsal the way you wanted, to how he made sure you always had them on your plate, to how he held off the perilla leaf for you so you could peel it off. 

Suddenly, everything he did made you smile, like how he kept scolding himself for eating so much and then cutely asking if you were okay to wait in line with him at this pop-up dessert store. 

So many things also started to seem attractive to you, like the way he stood during the match with his hands in his pockets and the way he combed his hair with his fingers after he removed his baseball cap. Even the way he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel while he drove became quite hypnotizing, just like right now, and you’re unsure where all these thoughts are coming from. Or if they’ll stop.

“So, how was your meeting with the Board?” He asks, disrupting your visions of him.

“Long,” you chuckle sarcastically. “The world’s in shambles and we have to be strategic in deciding which research projects to move forward with since funding is scarce. And you, how was your meeting with the parents?”

“Productive,” he hums. “I stepped out then met with their son. We were playing catch then I bought him ice cream then he opened up. I think we’re getting somewhere.”

Jungkook had mentioned one of his students has been displaying aggressive behaviors and wouldn’t talk to anyone apart from him. He realized early on in his teaching career the weight of his responsibility as an educator, and that just because he taught PE, it doesn’t mean he was limited to just sports or physical health. 

As it turned out, he’s very relatable to his students, and perhaps his laid-back and placid nature has a lot to do with that. It’s what prompted him to read more research and watch documentaries on adolescent mental health and how sports could help with managing it. 

You’ve been directing him to the appropriate resources and even linked him up with a professional who could speak to the faculty regarding child development so it’s a topic you’ve been talking about more. He tells you about their email exchange until he says that neither of you will be talking about work this weekend.

So you tell him about the sci-fi horror film you watched with Mo-eum last night and how you were both screaming at the same time then just ended up laughing at each other. Jungkook says she’s more of a scaredy-cat than you are but you express fear much more openly and you agree. 

“I heard we can set up an outdoor movie theater in the house,” he smirks at you. “We have a couple of options.”

“Jimin’s gonna push me away again if I scream in his ear,” you frown. 

“I won’t,” he says nonchalantly, and you have to pretend to yawn so you don’t have to keep looking at him without saying anything back. 

What’s that supposed to mean anyway? You try to recall if he’s also always been this bold and you’re just getting affected now, but it gives you a headache so you change the subject.

You end up talking about where you’re gonna be eating in Jeju and memories of your first trip there as a group a few  years ago. 

And so time flies. You’re parking at the airport carpark before you know it. You check in at the counter then enter the departure area. It’s when your stomach starts to grumble that you drag Jungkook around to find some snacks that you feel like having. You find a stall that sells various kinds of croquettes, kind of like the ones you had in Japan a few months ago.

You’re wiggling in excitement and so is he. Cheese was his favorite and though it’s not the same, you’re both happy that they at least look like it. 

You buy some drinks and find a spot and begin trying each type you got. He bites one then feeds it to you; you bite one then feed it to him, too. It feels natural, as this is something both of you have definitely done before and you never minded. But now, you have to force your brain to stop overthinking things just so you don’t start acting weird because of it. 

It’s when you’ve both decided your favorite flavors that your phone starts to ring. You pick up the video call and see your friends on the screen, showing you the barbecue and dinner set up in the property’s outdoor space. Mo-eum’s voice goes through, saying that there’s a feast waiting for you and Jungkook when you arrive. Seeing the table now, your eyes widen at the quality and quantity of meat and vegetables laid out. 

“We’ve got ramen, lots of beer, so many snacks… Jungkook’s gonna go wild in here,” she adds. 

“I’m already drooling,” he tells her.

Your older friends greet and tell you to get there quick as the phone gets passed around. Finally, it reaches Jimin and Taehyung, who both surface from the pool and proceed to ask you and Jungkook where you are and what you’ve been doing. 

“Eating,” you answer with your mouth half-full. “I found this stall and they sell croquettes that remind me of the ones from the rest stop going to the ski resort. It’s so goo–”

“Yah,” Jungkook disrupts you with a nudge on your arm. 

You turn to your side to face him. “What?”

He takes a piece of napkin and wipes the sticky sauce that you didn’t realize has dripped on your hoodie. Your eyes follow his hand that tries to remove the stain, and just as you’re about to sweetly thank him, he flicks your nose to tease, catching you completely off guard. You shriek in surprise and smack his chest, which is your natural response to something like that. 

You glare at him but your facade breaks when he scrunches his nose in amusement. 

“Dude, wipe your mouth,” he scolds. “Do I have to wipe the crumbs off you, too?”

“What?” you ask, brushing them off with your fingers.

You take his phone and open the camera to assess your face. Once you’ve cleaned yourself, you snap a photo and return the device on the table.

“Did you just take a picture?” He groans. 

“Yup,” you flutter your eyelashes. 

Jungkook sees that it’s a silly face and decides to send it to your group chat of five to tease, though he doesn’t deny the giddiness he feels at the act. 

It’s something you’d totally do. He’s seen random photos of you in Jimin’s and Taehyung’s photo album and you always say that maybe one of their cute friends sees it and asks for your number or something, but you say none of that to him this time.

“Wow, the one time Kook sends a text, it’s a picture of ___,” Taehyung laughs, earning him a glare from the said man. 

But you don’t seem bothered. Jungkook’s unsure if you even heard it over Jimin’s giggling and the laughter in the background, but it’s enough for him to text his friend to shut up, earning him a chuckle this time.

You talk a bit with Hayoung and she reminds you of the instructions upon your arrival. It’s not long after when you drop the call and start heading towards the gate. 

You don’t wait too long but during that period, you start feeling the exhaustion from the day. You know you’re gonna need to sleep during the flight so you could have enough energy to keep up with your friends for the rest of the evening. You’re definitely gonna make sure to make the most out of this trip to celebrate your cousin and soon-to-be cousin-in-law and of course, to savor your time with Taehyung before he leaves again. 

You’ll do your best to not overthink this whole Jungkook thing for now and decide to just be natural about everything. You don’t want him thinking that something’s wrong if you start acting differently because you know yourself - if he asks, you’ll most likely say something and you’re unsure if you’re ready for what will happen after. 

The call for boarding is announced and you follow Jungkook’s lead to the plane. He sits on the window seat like last time, and you’re reminded of the Japan trip again and how he made sure you got to sleep properly during the flight. 

It’s a smaller aircraft this time and a shorter flight time so you won’t need to lie on his lap or anything. But the thought of being alone with him makes you a little nervous so you try to talk about something to make sure you balance out all the times that you’ll be lost in your thoughts of him.

“Those croquettes were good but the ones at that rest stop were still superior,” you sigh.

“Yeah. That was seriously one of the best things I’ve ever eaten,” he hums, reminiscing about that trip, which he tends to do a lot because of you.

“Do you ever just think about that trip, Kook?” You ask as you gaze out the window and watch the sky change colors. “Do you miss it and wish you were back?”

“I do,” he hums, downplaying it a little. If you only knew. “I miss the food, the snow, the long drives… There’re lots of great memories from that trip.”

“I miss those bits, too,” you smile. “You still have the whiskey I got you?”

“Yup, barely touched.”

“What! I thought you liked it!”

“Exactly,” he points out. “So I have to savor it. I can only get it from that town, and during the Christmas season, and the chances of me going there again are slim. Plus, you gave that to me and you’ve never given me anything. It’s like, a memento–”

“Of our friendship?” You say mindlessly. 

You internally smack yourself because though you could sometimes be a dense person like your friends say - and only because you’re used to expressing your feelings and attraction first, as you like to argue - you’re not that dumb. You’re worried that you just drew a hard line by saying the F word but then again, why is that such a concern to you?

You realize he hasn’t replied and it’s been a few seconds already so you slowly turn to him. He meets your eyes and says that it is, then gives you a soft smile before he looks out the window. 

Jungkook wouldn’t describe that exchange as him being friendzoned. As the optimist that he is, he’d like to think that your gift to him meant that much to you, too. 

You’re the one who offered to get it for him and insisted it was a gift. After years of being friends, that was the first time you’d ever given him anything, and whatever it means, there was a change somehow. That’s a bottle that always brings a smile to his face whenever he opens his liquor cabinet and sees it. He’ll definitely keep it there for as long as he can.

You return your gaze out the window and glance at him. You’re glad that the gift means that much to him. You have the snow globes on the shelf by your desk and whenever you see them, you’re reminded of the snow-covered towns and the warmth from that whole week. 

More recently, you think about the mornings where you watched Jungkook from the passenger seat as he navigated the icy roads. You think about your conversations and how he gave you a piggyback ride and then treated your sore muscles.

He has always been a good friend so you’re not wrong to describe that gift as a memento of your friendship. You know that what you share is something you deeply treasure, but you also wonder if it means the bond has strengthened then, or if somewhere along the way, it started to feel something more. 

The plane takes off and Jungkook turns to you, looking every bit comfortable and comfy with his oversized hoodie and beanie. He gestures towards his shoulder, offering it to you.

“You sleep,” you say softly, knowing how tired he is, too. 

“I will,” he yawns, sinking further down his seat and leaning on the window, his eyes slowly falling.

You nod, knowing that it’s the more natural thing to do. So you take your pillow to hug then lean on Jungkook’s shoulder, immediately finding a position that doesn’t strain your neck. 

But your arms are a bit too awkward being in each other’s way and you see him adjust his. He slightly lifts it and you take the hint, wrapping your arms around his arm instead like an added pillow. 

Now this feels natural, as you feel him settle himself more comfortably next to you and you do the same. You suppose that’s how it is with people you’ve known for years - you just adapt and accommodate each other. You manage the exhaustion and inconveniences and just figure out how to make things comfortable and fun. 

You know it’s always been like this with Jungkook and you think back to these past months and how it’s been easier, more enjoyable, and something you keep searching for. 

Maybe this is what it’s like to pay attention to your feelings. Because as you snuggle closer and he pulls you in, your hand brushes against his, and then the sudden urge to hold it fills you up inside.

You wake up from your hour-long nap feeling only a tiny bit better. You wish there was more time, but you’re also not sure if it’s because of the need for more sleep or something else.

Jungkook still looks tired, but he sits up and pats your head, then asks if you slept well. You nod as you take a deep breath and there’s a moment where you just look at each other, still in your own little world of comfort and peace.

He breaks it and curiously looks around, and you ask him what he’s looking for.

“Trying to see if there are angry passengers who might’ve been disturbed by the snoring from these seats,” he purses his lips.

It takes a few seconds for you to process what he means, and you smack his chest when you do.

“Hey, I didn’t say it was you. It could’ve been me,” he defends.

“Yeah, you do snore quite loudly,” you hum. “But apparently not much when you’re not comfortably in bed. Maybe I’m the same.”

“True. Well, no one’s giving us the death glare so I think we’re clear.”

You just laugh at him in response then get ready to deplane.

You get your bags from the carousel quite quickly and you immediately find your driver holding up a sign with your names. You get inside the car and once you start moving, you open your window to feel the wind blow on your face. It’s the last month of spring and it’s the kind of coolness that you think is perfect for this island life. It’s chilly but not too much. The sun is bearable and gives the right amount of warmth. 

Jungkook glances at you as you enjoy the evening breeze. You’ve both just arrived but it’s felt like a dream since he’s been with you, especially when you cuddled with him on the plane. It felt bittersweet that he was exhausted. He at least didn’t completely lose his mind from the giddiness, but he also wished he could’ve savored it more. 

Still, he’s not one to complain. He gave the opening but you’re the one who moved closer. He decides that maybe that’s how he’ll go about these four days.

You arrive at the house in less than half an hour and you could already hear all the noise that your friends are making. Hoseok is the one who opens the gate and excitedly greets you. 

You enter the property and are in awe with how it’s set up. There are two houses perpendicular to each other. There’s a pool on the left side and in the center of it all is an area with trees and hammocks, a small fire pit, the barbecue grill, and picnic tables. 

You try to take it all in in the midst of hugging all your friends and trying to tell them how your flight went. 

“We just… slept,” you answer as most of them gather around you. “Neither of us snored. I think.”

“There were no complaints so I think we were fine,” Jungkook adds. 

“So, how did you sleep?” Jimin whispers in your ear. “Was it your head on his lap, his head on your lap? Or did you just lean on his shoulder? Did he– ow, fuck!”

You glare at him as you let go of the tiny sliver of skin you just pinched.

“You’re a brat,” you groan.

“And you’re being sensitive,” he bites back. 

“Yah! Can we not have fights during this farewell and pre-wedding party, please?” Taehyung calls you and Jimin out as he walks closer.

“She pinched me! And I literally just asked her a question,” Jimin complains. 

“What was the question?” Taehyung seems curious now. 

“How they slept.”

Taehyung looks at you with wide, even more curious eyes. “Ooh, was it like this?”

He takes out his phone and shows you a picture of Jungkook with a peace sign on an airplane and then there’s… you. Sleeping on his lap. This was during the flight to Sapporo when you were so tired and sleepy. You didn’t realize there was a photo of this moment.

“Where’d you get this?” You ask.

“In the shared photo album of the trip, duh,” he answers. “Mo-eum took it and saved it there.”

“Why is it saved on your photo album?” 

“Because she sent it to me right after she took it. She thought it was cute,” Taehyung shrugs. “Don’t you remember seeing this?”

“I might’ve… But like, we had hundreds of pictures. I guess I just… swiped past it,” you say, furrowing your eyebrows as you try to remember if you’d seen it and what you felt that time. 

“Yeah, because you weren’t really paying attention back then,” Jimin points out. “So, answer the question.”

“I… leaned on his shoulder,” you finally say. “Just like how I do with both of you!”

“Sure, it’s totally the same,” Jimin says while rolling his eyes, causing Taehyung to laugh.

“Jiminie,” you whine. “Hug me.”

“You’re such a baby,” he groans, but proceeds to hug you because he always does, and he knows it’s what you need right now. “You can also hug Kook, you know?”

“No, I’m shy.”

“When were you ever shy with affection?”

“Never, that’s why I’m hugging you instead.”

“Are you… crushing on him?” He gasps. “Like, for real?”

“Shut up. This is all your fault. You put ideas in my head.”

“Hey,” he says, pulling away to look at you. He cups your face with his hands, urging you to meet his eyes. “I asked a question that time because of the conversation we were having. I floated an idea and if it got you thinking, great. But don’t be carried away by what I said, okay? It’s about what you feel.”

“Yeah, and I’ve been paying attention, like you said,” you pout. 

“And?”

“I snuggled close to him and it felt nice,” you say softly with your head bowed down, somehow shy about everything you’re revealing to your best friend.

“That’s good then,” Jimin smiles now as he tilts your chin to face him. “Maybe you’re still figuring things out or letting things progress over time or you’re making sure that it’s all genuine. And that’s fine. That’s… kinda what happens in non-whirlwind romances. Not that that’s bad but… you know what I mean.”

“I do,” you sigh. “But yeah. I don’t wanna act too differently because I don’t want him to ask me if anything’s wrong because I might blurt it all out.”

“Well, he’s gonna ask you either way with how you’re freaking out,” Jimin says, gesturing to the side when you look at him confused. “He was glancing at you looking worried. He might think something’s up.”

“Ugh. Why is he so attentive,” you whine. 

“Well, someone has to be when it comes to you.”

You make a face and before you can say anything more, Yoongi disrupts the conversation and tells you to bring your things inside and dress up because your dinner is almost ready.

“Thank you, uncle,” you hum, hugging him tightly.

You hear him groaning in response because it’s Yoongi and he’ll always make that reaction before hugging you back. 

“Go. The meat’s perfect when it’s just off the grill,” he says.

“Yes, uncle!” you yell before heading inside with your luggage.

But of course, Jungkook catches up to you and asks you if you’re okay.

“Yup. I just had to release my last remaining negative energy about this afternoon’s meeting to Jimin and now they’re all gone,” you lie. “I am going to just have fun these next few days and… go with the flow.”

“Sounds good,” Jungkook smiles. “So uh, they suggested getting our swimsuits on so we could go straight into the pool after. Otherwise we’d be too full to change.”

“Yeah, we should,” you hum. “Can I get in first?” You gesture towards the bathroom.

“Sure. I can dress up in the other bathroom. Want me to bring your bag up already?”

“Oh, okay. Let me just grab my stuff.”

You get your bathing suit and a cover up then get changed. You wash your face and tell yourself to just get it together and enjoy yourself while spending time with Jungkook and maybe that’ll make things clearer for you. 

You open the door and shriek in surprise, as right outside the door is Jungkook, checking something in the cupboards… in nothing but his black swim shorts. 

His taut arm is in view, and when he turns to face you with a questioning look, so are his toned chest and abs. You forget sometimes how built he is underneath all the oversized clothing and that this is literally the body you snuggled to earlier, just with clothes on.

And now that you have this little crush, everything about him is now magnified. Has he always been this… hot?

“I didn’t even scare you,” he says, breaking you out of your thoughts. “I was going to but I was worried you’ll fall back and hit your head on the floor.”

“Wow, thanks for looking after my wellbeing,” you say sarcastically. 

“Of course. That’s very important,” he smiles and pats your head, which again is a normal thing he does. But when he’s half naked doing it, you suppose you don’t blame your heartbeat for racing the way it’s doing now. 

You walk back outside together and you scurry towards the picnic table, forcing your spot between Hayoung and Seokjin. You decide right then that taking a break from looking at or being near Jungkook’s bare body is the better choice, at least during dinner. 

But that doesn’t mean you don’t glance at the pool area where he is because you do, and he just happens to be playing with the water guns with Jimin and Taehyung. You hear his child-like laughter, which is a contrast to the way his body flexes in response to the water. It’s already giving you a whiplash.

The conversation you’re currently having is at least entertaining, so you’re able to focus on this and not on the suddenly-so-handsome half-naked man not far away. 

Until, of course, Yoongi calls him over because dinner is ready, and Jungkook rushes towards where you are, quickly wipes himself dry, then takes the seat between Namjoon and Suhyeon that they offered. Right in front of you. Yoongi places a platter of grilled meat and vegetables on the table while Seokjin passes two bowls of rice. 

Jungkook’s hair is quite damp and there are beads of water sliding down his very visible chest and you find yourself being hypnotized by how he looks that you don’t hear him calling your name.

“Hmm?” You finally shift your gaze to his face.

“I was calling you,” he says. “What are you even looking at?”

“You took all the meat with fat,” you frown, lying like it’s second nature. 

You take some pieces from his plate and he laughs at your expression.

“What did you want?”

“I was gonna ask if you wanted beer,” he shrugs.

“Yes,” you smile. “And a bottle of soju, please.”

He nods and jogs towards the cooler then returns with exactly what you asked for. You get back to eating, feeling like you’re in heaven with how perfectly the meat is cooked. You sing your praises to Yoongi, who says his joy in life is making sure his friends are fed with good food all the time. 

There’s a lot of laughter and singing to accompany your meal. Mo-eum takes you around the property when you finish, saying how much prettier it is when the sun’s out. When you feel like you’ve digested enough, you head to the pool where the rest of your friends are hanging out.

“Obligatory rock-paper-scissors match underwater!” Taehyung yells. “Loser drinks a cup of my brother’s terrible concoction. Seriously, it sucks so don’t lose.”

It takes a while before it registers that he’s talking to you and Jungkook as the latecomers. Everyone has played and five already had the drink, so both of you make your way to the pool. 

You moan at the feel of the warm water and you’re glad you didn’t pass up on the night swim. With the soft music and your friends laughing about, it’s the kind of vibe that you’ve been needing, nevermind that you have to sit on the pool floor in front of Jungkook, play a game, then get smacked on the cheek every time you lose. One side is see-through, so your friends watch you from there.

You try your best to act naturally around him, so you bicker and whine like you normally do. It’s a best of seven and he’s up, 3 - 0, needing only one more win. But you score on the next game and in your excitement, you smack his face a little too hard. 

You're surprised with how forceful you were, so you surface from the water and he follows after you. Your hand is still on his cheek and you’re apologizing immediately, palming the spot and asking if he’s okay. Your friends are laughing hard and you giggle while also looking apologetic. 

“What did I do to you?” He wails, as he places his hand on top of yours. “I was hitting you so softly!”

“I know but I got excited!” You reason. “And your cheeks are so soft and so smackable.”

“Wow. Thanks,” he deadpans.

You laugh in response and say you’ll give up the point as punishment, making him the winner, but he insists that he can keep playing and you might even win. 

You mask your giddiness over him pulling you back with his fingers with a look of competitiveness and resume the game. You score the next one but he gets a point after you, and you concede immediately. He’s always been good at this game anyway.

He follows you out of the pool and you get the cup that Taehyung hands you. You smell it and gag, but you take the penalty and take a sip. You gag even more and Jungkook asks you how it is.

“Terrible,” you wince, making him smell the cup until he’s drinking it himself.

“Oh, that’s torture,” he says. “I can drink it for you.”

“But I lost.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he shrugs.

“I drink half and you drink the rest,” you offer, and he nods in agreement.

He follows through, earning you boos from your friends who say that you didn’t fully honor the punishment, including Jimin who’s smirking at you while doing so. 

You wave them off and say that you’re too tired to finish all that on your own and they let you off the hook.

“Okay, I’m eating something to get that taste off my mouth and my memory,” you groan as you walk down the stairs to go to the eating area.

You start looking around but then you hear Jungkook nearby, saying that there’s Samanco in the freezer. You follow him but stay outside because you’re dripping wet, whereas he seems to have wiped himself before coming down so he enters the house and grabs the red bean flavored fish ice cream. 

“Here,” he says, tearing it open then handing it to you.

“What about you?”

“There’s only one left. They said there wasn’t enough at the store. I don’t need to eat.”

“Have a bite at least,” you offer.

“Fine,” he says, letting you feed him as you push the ice cream towards his mouth.

You watch him as he takes a bite, then you meet his eyes without meaning to do so. He briefly holds your gaze and for a moment, you get lost in it, suddenly feeling this odd mix of shyness and tension that you’ve never felt before. It’s mostly because you’re rarely shy about how you feel but more than that, you’ve never felt this around any of your friends before, and Jungkook is one of them. So this is very… new.

He moves the ice cream away and you come back to your senses. You take a few bites then offer him another one then he lets you eat the rest until it’s all finished. You don’t even realize you both have just been standing there in one corner until you hear Mo-eum yelling your names, so you quickly get back to the group and explain that you just had ice cream.

You return to the water and just soak yourself. You stay with Mo-eum and Jimin on one end, while Jungkook is with Namjoon and Taehyung as they headbang to the music on the other. The rest of your friends are either wading their feet or sitting on the lounge chairs but it’s all good fun. 

Yoongi finally gets up to announce that it’s just past 12 AM and he’s gonna get some sleep, and you reminisce about that one trip you had where most of you were still swimming in the pool and it was 1 AM. 

“Yeah because you drank so much and passed out at 8, then woke up at 11 PM demanding us to swim with you,” Jungkook reminds you. “Then you fell asleep on the floatie.”

Everyone laughs at the memory but you scowl at him and act angry in the midst of stories being shared about that time. 

“Why are you so far from him?” Jimin whispers in your ear while gesturing towards Jungkook. 

“She’s probably still getting over their alone time earlier,” Mo-eum teases, earning her a surprised look from you because she rarely calls you out.

“Seriously, both of you,” you groan as quietly as you can. “I… I’m trying to balance it out. I’m gonna lose my mind if I’m constantly exposed to that… body.”

“So what, he just needs to put clothes on then you’ll act normally?” Jimin cocks an eyebrow.

“He just needs to… I don’t know,” you sigh. “This is on me. I’m feeling and thinking things that are weird and new. I just have to get my shit together.”

“But you spent so much time together recently and it might make him wonder why you’re not calling for him or something,” Mo-eum reasons, which is something you’d also thought about. 

“Yeah and if he asks, you’ll tell the truth but you might also say things prematurely,” Jimin adds.

“I actually considered to kind of distance myself from him,” you admit. “I wanted to know if I’ll miss him and stuff until I remembered we had this trip and I just had to suck it up.”

“Well, you might still miss him even while on this trip if you deliberately stay away. And then things might be even weirder,” Mo-eum says. “Don’t overthink, just feel.”

“And wouldn’t it say a lot if, without thinking too much, you actually look for him?” Jimin adds. “That’s probably a bigger tell.”

“Fine,” you sigh. “I’ll let my body do the figuring out, then.”

You disperse from your little huddle and submerge yourself in the water, as if symbolic of your decision to just let yourself be drowned in whatever you’re experiencing, in hopes that you come out of it more sure of what you really feel. 

Eventually though, you all call it a night, and they let you and Jungkook go first in washing up, given the long day you’ve had. 

You take the bathroom upstairs and quickly get cleaned. It’s after you’ve blow dried your hair and dressed up in pajamas that you feel the weight of today weigh you down, and you suddenly feel like you’ll pass out. 

You lie in bed while Mo-eum takes a shower. Jimin is back and says that Jungkook helped clean one of the platters because it was heavy. You want to see him before you sleep just to say good night but exhaustion overtakes you, and your eyes shut before you know it.

Jungkook sighs - partly out of tiredness and partly out of regret - that he didn’t get back to your room early enough to make sure you were okay for the night. He still would’ve helped Suhyeon and Gyu-rim in cleaning up but still, he could’ve worked faster so he could return to you sooner. 

He shouldn’t be wondering why it’s even a big deal for him, as he’s accepted that he wants to spend time with you as much as he can, especially during a trip like this where the vibe is exactly how he likes it. Even more, your good nights to each other have been quite sentimental to him. 

He remembers that camping trip where he taught you a trick to fall asleep faster. Then in Sapporo, you talked and slept in the same room one night. He also can’t forget when you shared the same bed. 

Outside of your trips, there’s the time you let him stay over, and many others after he’d dropped you off or you spent the whole day together only to separate in the evening. And so now being able to wish you good night this time makes him a little sad.

He’s back in the room that all five of you share - which is the entire second floor - and he finds you already asleep next to Mo-eum who’s on her phone. Jimin is on the other bed next to Taehyung who’s wincing in pain as he rotates his head.

“Kook, my neck hurts from headbanging earlier,” Taehyung pouts. “Can you give me a massage?”

Jungkook nods, as this is one of his roles in the group given his background, then proceeds to knead and stretch his friend’s sore areas. Taehyung moans and asks for an extension.

“Yah, do I look like a massage therapist to you?” Jungkook frowns.

“You could be. That was good,” Taehyung sleepily smiles. “Anyway, thanks. I’m gonna sleep now.”

Jungkook decides to take the floor mattress because he prefers its firmness, so Jimin stays in place and eventually falls asleep. The light from Mo-eum’s phone disappears and she mumbles her good night, leaving him as the only one still awake.

He’s exhausted but his mind won’t let him sleep just yet, even as he tries the tricks he’s taught you. He doesn’t force it and resorts to playing a mobile game under the covers instead. It’s about an hour later when he decides he’ll try falling asleep again and right when he pulls away the covers, he sees you sit up from the bed, rotating your neck and groaning.

He gives a thumbs up sign when you look his way to ask if you’re okay and you shake your head no. So he stands up, heads to you, then kneels down.

“You didn’t headbang with Tae, did you?” He chuckles.

With sleepy eyes and mussed hair, you shake your head again.

“I fell asleep in an odd position and strained my neck,” you mumble. “It hurts.”

He immediately tries to find the spot near the nape of your neck, asking where it hurts and you guide his hand until he finds it. He massages it thoroughly and he takes his time. He gauges from your reaction which areas he should focus on then instructs you to rotate your head in various directions. Your moans are low and even more pronounced given how quiet everything else is. 

“Is that alright?” He asks.

“Yeah,” you respond with a smile. “I feel so much better now. And I don’t want to tire you.”

“You can let me know if it still hurts in the morning.”

“Okay, thank you.”

Without thinking much, Jungkook tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his hand lingering as he fights the urge to do more. 

“I thought I wasn’t gonna be able to say good night to you,” you whisper. “I fell asleep right away.”

“You did,” he chuckles. “I thought the same but then you woke up.”

“I get to say it then,” you smile once more. “Good night.”

Your face is just inches away from his that his heart beats extremely fast and he likes it, he likes the thrill and the calmness from the way you make him feel.

“Good night. I think I’ll be able to sleep now.”

He watches you lie back down and tuck yourself under the covers before he heads back to his mattress. A minute later, he falls asleep.

You wake up to the sound of steady breathing coming from the other bed, and you peek to see that Jimin and Taehyung are still in deep sleep. Mo-eum’s probably washed up, as the space next to you is empty, and you sit up to check how Jungkook is. 

He’s sitting on the mattress, clearly having just woken up, but he turns to you to greet you good morning and ask if your neck is still hurting.

“Not as much, but it’s still a bit sore,” you mumble.

“Just do what I told you. It’ll feel better soon.”

You nod and start rotating it like he said. You check your phone. It’s 10 AM and you’ll have to leave in an hour for lunch, so you head to the sink that, oddly enough is located right outside the bathroom, and start washing your face.

You’re brushing your teeth by the time Jungkook starts walking towards you and you signal for him to give you another massage. He chuckles and stands behind you.

“You might choke,” he warns, and you wave him off and gesture for him to start.

Like you expected, he hits the spot immediately. You get so lost in how good it is that you don’t notice that you’re drooling until he tells you, so you signal that you’ll rinse. He pulls your hair in a ponytail so you could spit and once you’re done, you stand back up and let him continue.

You moan under your breath. You see him with his head turned and realize it might be a bit awkward, so you tell him that you’re all good. You turn around to face him, noting then just how close you are and when you meet his eyes, there’s that urge again to boop his nose and trace his face. You let your eyes wander to his lips for a millisecond before pinching his cheeks so hard that he winces in pain. 

“You brat,” he growls, but it just causes you to laugh and run away from him. 

He washes up while you change in the bathroom then you head downstairs to wait for everyone else. The sun is shining brightly but the breeze is a little cool. You think it’s perfect for what you’ll be doing today and you jiggle in anticipation once you’re complete.

Jungkook and Taehyung take a separate car with Jimin and Gyu-rim because they’ll be retrieving their rented motorcycle and Vespa before heading to the restaurant. You yell out your concern and tell them to be careful before heading to the car with Mo-eum where Seokjin and Hayoung are. 

You arrive at the restaurant and eventually decide on getting some braised kimchi, hairtail fish, and a bunch of other dishes that get you excited. You’ve been looking forward to this after Jungkook said how good the food was since he’s the only one who’s eaten here before, and you truly can’t wait. 

The rest of your friends arrive shortly after all the food has been served. Your attention shifts to Jungkook, who sits towards the end of the table while you’re in the middle, and your eyes briefly meet before you indulge yourself. Hayoung and Suhyeon alternately fill your plate as they often do, and moans of satisfaction quickly fill the restaurant.

The view of the ocean is as perfect as the meal and you’re truly thankful that you get to share all this with your friends. The seat next to you frees up, and you make Taehyung take it so you could hug him, as it slowly sinks in that he’s gonna be leaving in a few weeks.

“We’ll be back to video calls and you scolding me when I’m not getting rest and worrying when I’m not well because you can’t just show up at my apartment to make sure I’m taking care of myself,” you sigh. 

“Nah, I won’t be too worried,” he smiles softly at you. “You’re in good hands.”

“Jimin and Mo-eum are worse than I am,” you point out.

“Kook isn’t.”

“Hmm,” is all you say, unsure if you want to openly talk about your feelings now, although you probably will before he leaves. 

“You’ll be fine, ___. Just follow your heart,” he whispers.

“Have you been talking to Jimin?” You cock your eyebrow, suspicious now if they’ve been discussing things behind your back.

“I don’t know what you’re implying,” he says. “You know me, I say random shit. Take it how you want.”

You groan at him for being another person who’s making you think. But he just laughs at you and leaves you to your own thoughts when Mo-eum calls him to go to the balcony because she needs some air.

The others have also gone outside except for Yoongi and Gyu-rim and you’re honestly too full to even stand up. Just then, Jungkook takes the seat next to you and asks if you’re indeed too full to even move because you usually like looking at the views. 

“I can’t breathe,” you frown at him. 

“Yeah, you looked like you enjoyed yourself,” he laughs.

“So did you. You ordered like, three cups of rice,” you say. “We’re still going to a cafe after this.”

“So? Coffee and dessert are separate things.”

“True,” you hum. “How’s the motorcycle by the way?”

“It’s good. It’s a similar model to what I have in Busan.”

He rides occasionally. He doesn’t have an extra parking slot in his apartment so he left the one he has at his parents’ house, which he drives around whenever he’s home. 

“So it’s safe and stuff?” You ask.

“Of course it is. Jimin even rode with me on the way back here.”

“Did he enjoy it?”

“Always. I’m a very safe rider,” he assures you. “Do you want to try?”

“I’m kinda scared. I’m not good with balancing and like, being steady,” you explain.

“But that’s my job. You literally just have to sit there and hold onto me and enjoy the wind and the scenery. Sounds good, right?” He tries to convince you.

It’s very tempting, you’d admit, especially since you’ve committed to just letting yourself feel everything and enjoying a ride with him is one other way to do that.

“I’ll think about it,” you shrug.

He tells you more about riding until Hayoung says you’ll leave in 10 minutes. So you attempt to stand up to at least get a better view of the ocean on this side. Jungkook is there, pulling you by the hand while laughing at you. Your fingers linger, and you quickly let go of him before he notices a hint of desire for his touch.

He goes with you outside and while earlier, both of you couldn’t stop talking, now, it’s just quiet. You suppose he’s basking in the sights and how peaceful everything is as well, and you just feel that calmness being next to him. 

And it’s… new. Not the feeling, but the fact that you could feel giddy and content right after. So you savor it a little more.

You all eventually leave and head to your next destination. It’s a nice ride to the cafe, too, and you sit on the backseat with your window rolled down, looking at the ocean.

Jungkook pulls up next to you in his ride and this is a look that gets your heart racing, too. He’s got his black helmet on and with his exposed tattooed arm, he looks pretty cool. 

Your chin settles on your arm that’s by the window and you watch him. He turns to you at the stoplight and pushes his shades up.

“Be careful,” you say from inside the car. 

He gives a thumbs up then extends his arm for a fist bump, which you give. It also makes you laugh. The light turns green and you’re off again. Mo-eum and Jimin laugh at you from the front but you wave them off and no longer threaten them with physical injury. 

You’re accepting it, you think. It’s like getting used to this feeling, letting it embrace you, the way you’re allowing yourself to embrace all of it. 

You head to a quaint cafe near the mountains. It has a homey vibe, not just because it literally is an extension of the owner’s house, but also because of the warm interiors, the shelves of old books and manuscripts, unfinished paintings… and two cats, which Jimin plays with and almost cuddles. 

You take up the entire space and it gives some of you a chance to speak to the owner, a former author whose wife is an artist. You mostly listen though, especially once he talks about how life in the country and this town was several decades ago. You opt for a cup of tea to help warm your still very full belly, but you do get a taste of Jungkook’s misugaru and pretty much almost everyone’s else’s drinks because that’s how you are.

Sitting next to Hayoung, you have a good view of Jungkook from the side, and you take notice of how he smiles at certain parts of the man’s tales and when he turns serious and contemplative when the man talks about his wife. 

The stories prompt you to ask your cousin how she’s feeling as she counts the days to the wedding. She sighs as if she’s still in disbelief that it’s so close. Or perhaps that she found a man like Seokjin who truly makes her feel like it’s possible to feel content and happy in this life.

“I’m marrying a man who makes me laugh, ___. A man who laughs at my jokes even if they’re not funny,” she smiles. “And I know it may sound so simple but I don’t really know what else could be better than this feeling, you know? He makes me feel good about myself. He enjoys things with me. He shows me how to be a good and happy person. And I get to spend the rest of my life with him.”

You think of your definition of simple and it used to make sense to you. You meet someone, instantly become attracted to them, find things about them you like that mirror what they like about you, be overwhelmed by the unrelenting yet unexplainable feeling towards them, then decide you want to be with them. 

Looking back, nothing about it was simple. Perhaps it was just all shallow. The intensity was surface level and never really got the chance to dig its roots.

With Hayoung, simplicity is in the consistency, you think. It’s in the everyday and every second together.

You spot Seokjin looking to where you are and upon realizing that she was admiring him from afar, he gives her a flying kiss, causing you to snort.

“He’s so ridiculous, it drives me crazy,” she laughs.

“You’re perfect for each other,” you smile as you hug her tightly. 

“It took a while for us to realize that but I guess that was the whole point,” she hums. “We’re as committed and as happy because it wasn’t too early nor too late.”

“So it’s really the timing huh?” You ask, recalling the conversations about relationships during that camping trip. 

“It is but it’s also a choice. You both decide you want to be the right person for each other,” she says. “Regardless of who confessed first, the other person could’ve chickened out but neither of us did. We knew enough about each other that we were willing to make that move.”

“Oh, to be mature like you,” you sigh. “I can’t relate.”

“You’re honest about your feelings, ___. Not everyone is that brave nor that true to themselves. That’s maturity in my book.”

You drive out and head to the port next. The rented yacht you enter is pure luxury, and this is one of the moments where you thank the universe that you ended up being friends with a rich pair of brothers, one of whom also happens to be your future cousin-in-law. 

The size is perfect for all 12 of you - not huge but cozy enough to not feel too separated from each other. There are so many areas to hang out in - the front, the back, the top, and inside. You’d forgotten what they were called and was just in perpetual shocked mode when you were being toured around. There’s lots to do, too, and you have all the time to entertain yourselves, as you’ve got this boat until past sunset. 

You all gather at the lounge area while waiting to get to the snorkeling spot. You play music, drink some mocktails, and dance around. Half an hour later, you’re told that you’ve arrived, so you all move to the other end of the yacht and jump in the water. 

It’s the right temperature for this afternoon. It’s cold but not freezing, and the feel of the ocean is every bit refreshing as you remember. 

Yoongi and Hoseok sit on the swim platform. You stay near the boat with Suhyeon and Gyu-rim - the most cautious of the bunch, while the rest dive and explore farther out. You watch them enjoy themselves, especially Jungkook, whose laughter you can pick out even from where you are.

He removes his mask and waves at you before disappearing under the water again, only for him to end up next to you.

You shriek in surprise when he does, and you smack his chest to call him out because you thought he was a shark or something.

“Seriously?” He laughs. 

“You never know,” you shrug.

“Well I’ve gone deeper and there’s none of that. Only more fish and prettier corals. Wanna see?”

You hesitate. You’re only a little bit terrified of the water; having siblings who watched Jaws all the time did that. While you know it’s safe, there’s something about the open water that’s insanely overwhelming for you because there’s so much you don’t know and much more you’ll never know. There’s a whole world down there that’s too terrifying for your human mind to comprehend and it makes you feel so small and insignificant. It’s like that cosmic horror shit that Jungkook was telling you about this one time. 

But you also know that the little bit of what humans do know is pretty amazing. And just like how you are with your horror films, you suppose the fear is part of the experience, too.

“Fine, I do wanna see,” you finally reply. “I’m just a little scared.”

“Alright then. We won’t swim too deep. I’ve got you,” he says, gesturing for you to get under.

You follow him and reflexively take his hand, allowing him to guide you towards the reef that you see isn’t far away. You know your basics in swimming so it’s not hard, but just the idea that there’s all this around and all over you is what gets to you. 

But with Jungkook right in front, holding you tightly, and constantly looking back to check how you’re doing, you suppose it’s not bad at all. And when you finally see what he wanted to show you, you understand that that initial fear, the immediate relief from the safety he provides, and then the beauty of what’s waiting for you is all part of the experience. 

When you’ve taken it all in, you begin swimming back to the surface and don’t let go of his hand. The light from the sun penetrates the ocean and it makes the scene before you even more captivating. You emerge from the water and breathe, then smile at him for keeping his word. 

“How was that?” He asks.

“Pretty,” you say. “Thank you, Kook.”

“Glad that didn’t disappoint,” he says. 

You waddle back to the yacht and you’re more independent this time. You meet with the rest of your friends and just float about, enjoying the sun and the feel of the water on you. 

One by one, you all head back up. Some stay by the steps, the others have begun fishing, and a few have started washing up. You announce that you’ll go back to the lounge area to get your phone and Jungkook follows because he wants to dry his shirt.

He removes it and grabs a towel that he wipes himself with. You glance at him as he dries his hair with it then wraps it around his waist, disturbing you with what you’re supposed to do. 

Of course, of all times that he has to be half naked again - and during the day - is when you’re both alone and you have nothing to distract you nor keep you from ogling him. 

Because now that you care, you actually pay more attention and realize that his type of ripped is exactly your type. 

You’ve generalized your guy friends and said they’re all handsome. You’ve said it mostly to Hoseok before he got a girlfriend and to Seokjin because, well, he makes everyone say so. You always told Taehyung that you found him cute, but perhaps the most honest you were was when Namjoon showed up in a green sweatshirt and glasses one time and you whispered “daddy,” not realizing the words didn’t  actually remain in your head. The teasing started right after that. 

You’ve often passed off Jungkook as having these charming, boy-next-door traits which wasn’t really your vibe. You were always too intense for that and the men you pursued tended to match your energy and so Jungkook, even physically, felt a bit tamed or reserved to you. 

But now, you can see that you were really just a silly girl. His abs aren’t too pronounced when he doesn’t flex them but even you can tell there are eight of them there. They also hold up a pair of perfectly toned pecs. His entire torso is smooth, including his back that’s divided by that deep line that lets you know just how hard he works on it. 

And his arms. They don’t seem much but he’s flexed them a few times since last night and you have to pretend you need water every time to mask that you’re actually really just thirsty for them. Maybe it’s the fact that one is covered in tattoos and the other isn’t. The contrast gives you a whiplash, even more when you realize that connected to the feet that you make fun of because of his toe socks are massive thighs that could—

“___?”

“Hmm?”

“Is there anything else you need?”

“My phone,” you stammer.

“You’re holding it,” Jungkook says, gesturing towards your hand that is indeed holding it. 

“Right, I got it,” you reply, turning around because suddenly, it’s hard to breathe. 

You were definitely ogling him last night but now, he’s half-naked with the sun out so you’re noticing everything, including his tiny waist and—

“I’m gonna go and watch them fi— ow, fuck!”

But of course, you hit your head on the side of the roof that has a sign that says “watch out” next to it. Not that you were paying attention anyway because you were, in fact, trying to get away from the man who’s been invading your thoughts in ways that are so unexpected for you.

You slowly fall on your butt and wince in pain. And who else would go to your rescue but him?

“___, it literally says there to watch out,” he chuckles as he crouches to face you. “You’re not even that tall.”

“Yah!” You smack his chest in reflex, only to feel the tingle from touching his bare skin. “It hurts.”

“Oh shit,” he says now, his face turning serious. “Is there a bump?”

You feel around the top of your head and discover something that definitely wasn’t there earlier. His hand hovers so you guide him to where you feel it.

“Yup, that’s a bump,” he sighs. “You’ve got to be careful.”

You only pout and whimper when he puts pressure on it. 

He grabs a can of soda from the cooler and places it on your head. He instructs you to keep it there while he looks for a cold compress, which he does, a few minutes later after going to the cockpit and asking for it.

He sits next to you on the ledge while he holds it in place because you say your arm is getting sore. But he turns towards you now, so you also pay even more attention to his face. 

His dark doe-eyes are filled with worry, and you realize they’re captivating like this just as much as when they’re painted with joy or admiration. His nose is even cuter this close, and you don’t know how to convince him that you’re sincere about your attachment to it, even more now. His eyelashes are so long and they flutter against his honeyed skin. And then his lips, they’re so pink and chapped that you just want to—

“___?” He calls your name again. 

“Hmm?” 

“Seriously, did being underwater and then hitting your head make you dizzy? Do you have a concussion that’s why you’re unresponsive?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s not a concussion,” you say. “I’m just—”

You fake yawn to make an excuse. Only for you to actually feel sleepy right after. 

“I think I need a nap.”

“Okay,” he laughs. “Get dressed then you can lie on the sofa.”

You rid yourself of your wet clothes in the bathroom. From there, you hear Jungkook inform your friends that you hit your head and Jimin yells that you can’t lose your memory because you still owe him dinner. 

You get back on the lounge to cuss him out then say you’re okay but that you have a bump and now you’re sleepy.

“I hit my head there earlier,” Taehyung says.

“Why didn’t you warn people about it!” You exclaim.

He shrugs but Jimin pipes in. 

“He probably didn’t think that anyone would be dumber than him.”

“Yah!” You yell, threatening to flick his forehead. 

He runs away and heads back to the other side. Most of them follow, as Seokjin and Yoongi compete with each other on who can catch more fish. Suhyeon and Hoseok stay near the railing, leaving you and Jungkook semi-alone in the lounge. He at least has a shirt on this time.

You’re both sitting on the couch and you give in, grabbing a small pillow and placing it on his lap for you to rest your head on. It’s too late by the time you realize that there’s so much space elsewhere but you chose this. You chose to be this close, so you just let it go. You’d made yourself look stupid earlier already, might as well own this. 

But you do peek at him and see that he’s got his head leaned back, perhaps taking a nap, too. He feels you move and he turns to you, seemingly unbothered at your obvious lack of respect for his personal space.

“You okay?” He asks, placing the cold compress on your bump once more.

“Hmm,” you nod. 

“Go sleep.”

You turn to your side and savor the sight before you as you slowly drift away, the blue sky with threads of the clouds strung around making you feel at peace. Jungkook pulls your hair back so you’re more comfortable, reminding you of last night and how his fingers brushed your face. 

You smile to yourself. You’re definitely owning this feeling.

You wake up to light taps on your shoulder. Jungkook tells you that you’ll miss the sunset if you keep sleeping, so you sit up and look around. Your friends have returned to this side of the boat, with some of them sitting on the other couch while the others are by the railings, enjoying the last bits of light. You see a bowl of tteokbokki on the table in front of you, and your eyes widen, as you realize right then that you’re quite hungry. 

“Can you–”

“Want me to heat it?” Jungkook finishes his question first.

“Yes please,” you shyly smile, remembering that he knows you don’t like eating your food cold.

“Sure,” he says, then grabs the plate and heads inside.

“Did you sleep well?” Jimin appears out of nowhere. 

“Yeah,” you hum. “I feel better now.”

“Good,” he smiles. 

He walks to the lounge area with Mo-eum and they sit next to you.

“You missed out on the fun parts! Tae caught some fish,” Mo-eum excitedly says. “I told him it was probably genetic.”

You laugh. “Did any of you catch anything?” 

“Nope. But Gyu-rim did. You should’ve seen Yoongi’s face, he was so proud and he was blushing,” Jimin gushes. “Kook probably would’ve caught some if someone wasn’t sleeping on his lap,” he smirks at you. “He missed out on the fun thanks to you.”

“I–” you frown. “He told me to take a nap.”

“On his lap?” Mo-eum asks.

“No but like, it was there,” you sigh. “Okay, can I just say? I completely lost it earlier. I was staring. Like, I was literally ogling him. This isn’t normal.”

“___, chill. We’re all used to you already. You literally always hug Tae’s arms and say how they’re so big. And you always call him handsome. You also called me hot before,” Jimin reminds you.

“I totally would’ve dated you for your body alone,” you remark. “But I’m not the type to do that.”

“You dated Seungho because he was hot though,” Mo-eum points out.

“Shush, that was only 92% of the reason,” you correct her. 

“Back to my point,” Jimin nudges you to look at him. “You called Joon daddy one time, remember? You ogle, ___. We know that.”

“Wow, you make me sound like a perv,” you scowl.

“None of us literally care.”

“Fine. But I was all of a sudden speechless with Kook. Like, I always knew he had a nice body but I just never really bothered to look look. And now I have and he’s so hot and I’m–”

“Sorry it took a while, the microwave was being weird,” Jungkook returns to the lounge. “Got you soda, too.”

He places your meal in front of you then heads farther out the deck with the other guys.

“Shit, do you think he heard me?” You panic.  

“Doubt it. But if he did, so what? Not like you don’t compliment him about his looks,” Jimin shrugs.

“I tell him his nose is cute,” you deadpan. “That’s totally different from saying he’s hot.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Jimin shakes his head. “You just have to get used to it. This is an island trip, ___. He’s gonna be half-naked for two more days.”

“I need saving,” you sigh, prompting your two friends to laugh at your dramatic antics. 

You eat your snack while they talk about what happened earlier. It’s a good distraction from your thoughts of Jungkook, even if they’re technically still there because it’s his back that you’re currently looking at. You laugh at yourself this time because you’re being silly. 

Sure, it’s a bit unfamiliar to suddenly be physically attracted to him, but even more because you’re unable to express it, which is unlike how you normally are with your friends. You’re usually very open and playful about it with them but with Jungkook, you’re quite cautious. You’re worried you’ll say too much or that he’ll even feel the heat from your entire body as your natural reaction. 

This is perhaps another indication of how you really feel. You’re more shy than usual, but as you look at him from where you’re seated, all you want is to bask in that shyness, too. It at least tells you that it’s not all shallow and superficial when it comes to him.

You stand from your seat and clean up. When you go back out, you see that all your friends are now on the deck, lounging on the chairs and the netted structure as the sun starts to set. Seokjin and Hayoung are being all couple-y. Yoongi and Gyu-rim are in their own world in the corner. Namjoon’s dancing to some song with his earpods on, and Jungkook and Jimin are going Titanic mode and laughing at each other.

You laugh, too, and it’s another feeling that’s new or perhaps, just more pronounced. You like seeing Jungkook be silly and enjoying himself. You like seeing him feel free. It’s something he experiences and all you can do is watch, and that makes you feel good.

Jungkook loses his breath from role playing and play-fighting with Jimin. It’s something they’ve always done as kids and they never really outgrew it. But his best friend surrenders after a while and Jungkook decides to have mercy on him. 

Instinctively, he turns towards the lounge to look for you, and he finds you there, sitting on one of the chairs, smiling at him. He’d spent pretty much the entire afternoon with you - swimming, snorkeling, icing your head, and serving as your pillow yet again for your afternoon nap. 

And he has nothing to complain about, especially because you held his hand while you were in the water, and you looked him in the eyes more times than he could count, and you snuggled close to him after he told you to sleep.

He gestures for you to come over and you do. You take your spot on the floor and he takes his next to you. You scoot closer and rest your head on his shoulder, just like always and he likes this. He likes how you seek him, knowingly or not, and that you find comfort in whatever he could give. 

He’s unsure of what it means on your end but he doesn’t want to assume nor impose; he decides he’ll hope only a little. He’ll savor whatever this is as part of the experience. He’s hoping it’s something you’re doing, too.

Everyone is quiet during the sunset, as you all bask in the changing of the sky’s colors and how majestic it looks from where you are. You eat dinner on the boat and find that a hearty meal of pasta, pizza, and steak in the middle of the ocean is the perfect cap to what you think is a perfect day, even with the head bumping and the spacing out. 

Hayoung and Seokjin say a few things, as it’s their pre-wedding trip, and you’re tearing up by the end of it. Taehyung gives a speech, too, and you all burst into laughter. It’s practice for the real deal during the wedding, he says, but you already know he’ll be crying then. 

You head back to the house after and make sure to remind Jungkook to be careful during his ride. You notice that he tries to stay next to your car and gives you a smile when he sees you look at him, as if in assurance that he’s okay. 

You spend the rest of the evening drinking indoors while playing games and singing karaoke. It’s later on in the night when you feel the pull of the cool breeze. 

Some of your friends have tucked themselves in bed already. Jimin and Mo-eum are dancing and singing like they’re at a club. Namjoon’s passed out, and Taehyung and Hoseok look like they’re having a heart-to-heart near the hammock. Jungkook’s gone to take a shower so you head out to the pool, dip half of your legs in the water, then lie on the ground to look at the night sky.

The full moon is stunning and your only regret is that you’re a little tipsy so your glazed eyes can’t fully savor its beauty, but you try. Cozy in your hoodie and with your hands behind your head, you take a deep breath and take everything in. You don’t always get to have this time to be away and just live in the moment, but you know you’re lucky enough that you even have the opportunity to.

“___?”

You turn to the side and see Jungkook, drowning in his oversized hoodie, approaching you. You gesture to your side and he takes the spot next to you. He lies down and rests his head on his hands, too. 

“Haven’t you taken a bath?” You ask.

“Yeah, and I can do it again,” he shrugs. 

He takes in your sluggish state and asks if it was too loud for you inside.

“A little,” you say. “But I also needed time alone.”

At your words, Jungkook apologizes and tries to stand up, but you pull his arm and shake your head.

“And I already had it,” you say. “I don’t need you to leave.”

“Sorry, I should’ve asked.”

“You don’t need to though. You - anyone, really - are always welcome. More like, needed,” you smile. “I enjoy having you around, Kook. I don’t know if I’ve ever said that before.”

“You have, a few times. Mostly when you were drunk though. Like now,” he teases. 

“I always mean it though, especially now,” you tell him, more seriously than he is.

“Well, I’ll always be,” he assures you. “You know I’m always there for you, right?”

“You are and you have been - driving me around, changing my lightbulb, shopping with me, cooking for me…” you say, somehow feeling this heaviness at the thought that maybe you haven’t done much for him the way he’s been doing things for you.

“I like doing them, the way I think you like helping me with my workplans or talking me through tough days at work or watching my students’ games to cheer for them and me,” he responds, somehow knowing that you needed to hear that, too. “And you know, making me laugh. A lot. You’re clumsy and a mess sometimes and it makes my day.”

“Why does it make your day?” You turn to him.

“Because you don’t care, and I mean that in an endearing way,” he clarifies. “You… just let yourself be who you are in front of us. That’s refreshing, you know? I think we all have our quirks and habits but we’ve spent so much time together as a group that it just feels like we’ve adjusted to each other.”

“That’s the great thing about friends, right? About people you’ve known for years? You don’t have anything to hide from them. Over time, they just learn all these things about you and just… live with it,” you say. “It just becomes a part of who they are, too, like how my being clumsy and clueless and spoiled and dramatic has just become an aspect of all of you being caring and dependable and understanding. It’s as if our qualities and parts of our personalities kind of just intertwine in that way.”

“That’s true. It’s like how romantic relationships end up being. Or should become. At least that’s what Seokjin and Hoseok tell me.”

You’re quiet for a while as you realize that yours never got to that point. It makes sense though, as they only lasted two years max but you never felt your personality intertwine with your exes in any way.

“Hmm, can’t relate,” you sigh. “Jimin and Mo-eum made me realize that there were parts of me that I didn’t really wanna show Jeong-su and Seungho.”

“Do you know why?”

“Could be dozens of reasons. Maybe it was them. Maybe it was me.”

“Maybe you just didn’t know them long enough,” Jungkook says, hoping that nothing he says is triggering for you. “I mean, it’s how it is with people and relationships. You learn about yourself the more you spend time with them and the more you do, the more of yourself you’re able to show or adjust or fit theirs.”

You hum in response, as you process what he says.

“I was kind of a selfish kid and only thought of myself and Jimin’s kindness taught me to be more thoughtful,” Jungkook continues. “I was still pretty shy when I got to college but I let out my playful side with Tae that I didn’t really know was there. And Mo-eum was so smart that I tried to keep up with her and I realized I was pretty smart, too.”

You laugh at this, as you think about how different your friends are with him and with you.

“Jimin and I always butt heads and he calls me out because he knows no one will and I need someone to,” you state. “Tae is very soft with me because he knows I’m hard on myself all the time. And Mo-eum… ever since we were kids, she just always asked me about life in general, like what career she should pursue or how she should manage all that trauma from work and still have enough of herself to give.”

“Such contrast,” Jungkook laughs. “I think it’s because you and I are so different, too, but that’s the point, right? They’re not different people. They just have sides to them that fit with others more but that’s still them. And I know comparing platonic and romantic relationships is a bit simplistic but it’s kinda the same. You spend enough time with someone and get to know them, and I mean genuinely get to know them, and you’ll figure out which ones fit.”

“It happens naturally, yeah?”

“It should. But it requires baring yourself to the other person.”

“And that requires vulnerability, too, doesn’t it?” You ask, turning to him now. 

“It does. It requires honesty, too.”

You look into Jungkook’s eyes and see the moon reflecting from them with how round and dark and captivating they are. You’d think that given your topic of conversation, this is the perfect time to just confess about how differently you’re feeling about him. 

But there’s still something that pulls you back, and you suppose it’s this need to be sure - not of whatever he feels for you but of what you feel for him, and what you feel about you. 

You don’t want to dive into this when you’re unsure of yourself. You don’t want to doubt if you’re able to truly be vulnerable to him. You don’t want to get into anything with him when you don’t know if you like this version of you now, because you know that what he deserves is someone who likes herself enough to treat him the way he should be treated. His exes have been insecure people who took him for granted, and you don’t want a reminder of them in you.

“And that requires trust,” you add.

“It does,” he smiles, knowing that both of you are just pulling from all your experiences of failed relationships and uncertainty.

He hopes that maybe just like him, you’re trying to get to that point where you trust him and yourself enough before seeing if what you both have could be something more.

Both of you spend a few more minutes just staring at the sky before deciding to head back inside. You help your remaining friends clean up, wash themselves, and then lie in bed. 

You take your place next to Mo-eum, on the side that gives you a view of Jungkook as he sleeps on the floor. You ask him if he’s comfortable and warm enough for this chilly night and he responds with a nod.

You like this side of you that seeks him, not just because you need to be taken care of, but also because you want to take care of him, too. You think that for now, that should be enough. 

Jungkook flinches in his sleep, catching himself by surprise this time and prompting him to wake up. He slowly opens his eyes, already used to the light coming in with how thin the curtains are but he doesn’t mind much, not when the first thing he sees in the morning is you - cuddled with the pillow, looking peaceful as your brain rests for a while. 

It was a little thing he did, moving the mattress just a tiny bit during the first night, because he saw that the curtain slit would be right across his face and the sun would be unbearable. It ended up giving him a much better morning view. 

He grunts as he sits up and starts cracking his back and stretching his limbs. He sees that Taehyung and Jimin are half awake and he nods at them. Mo-eum is already up as the early-riser of the group and of course there’s you, still steadily breathing and softly snoring. 

It’s a slow morning and there’s no rush to do anything. Jungkook likes this about your recent trips, which is also why you’re all able to stay up late to drink and talk and do whatever people your age are still able to do until the wee hours of the morning. Perhaps his body has adjusted as well; regardless of what time he sleeps, he doesn’t need the entire next day to recuperate. 

Mo-eum gets back to the room and sits next to him.

“How was last night?” She asks with a playful smile.

“I had to carry your drunk ass to the bed, and then Jimin’s,” Jungkook shakes his head.

Maybe not a lot has changed. 

“___ helped you though.”

“Yeah well, we were the only ones still in our right minds,” he laughs. 

“I was still lucid when I saw you walk out to look for her,” she smirks. 

“Hey, I was just making sure that she was still on the property,” he defends. “Who knows if she followed some rabbit out there and fell into a hole or something.”

“You’re getting ridiculous with your reasons,” Mo-eum rolls her eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting to spend time with her, you know?”

“I’m not denying that.”

“Good. Because I think she’s been liking that. She’s always got a lot in her mind and you help ease her a bit. Like, Jimin matches her energy, Tae comforts her, I hype her up and you…” she smiles. “You seem to do that and more. Like, you become what she needs at that time.”

“I’ve always tried to be there for her and it’s the same with her,” Jungkook shrugs, not wanting to reveal too much to your best friend. “I guess at this point it’s just become easier. And nicer. I’m happy I get to be what she needs.”

“Hmm. I’m sure she is, too.”

Mo-eum’s smile is comforting. Whatever you’ve told her or haven’t, her words are enough to assure him that he’s doing right by you. He’ll just continue and savor the moments you have together, like last night by the pool where you looked him in the eyes again and he’d been tempted to just lay his feelings out to you. 

But he hesitated, wanting to make sure that you’re ready for what he has to say. He’s certain about what he feels now but he doesn’t want to just spring it on you in the middle of celebrations and farewells. He’s just been basking in seeing you slowly settle into him, and perhaps that’s part of the whole experience, as you like to say. 

Mo-eum ruffles his hair before going back to bed, hugging you like a baby and asking if you’re hungry because she already is. Jungkook watches as you slowly get to your senses, look around, slightly sit up, then sleepily wave at him. It’s a bit random but he waves back and laughs. 

It’s not long after when the rest of you finally get up and start fixing up. You stand in front of the sink outside the bathroom to brush your teeth and just like the day before, he stands behind you as he sees you stretch your neck.

“Does it hurt again?” He asks.

“No, but a massage would be nice,” you mumble with bubbles in your mouth. 

He playfully shakes his head but proceeds to press his thumbs against the nape of your neck. 

“Such a princess,” he laughs.

You close your eyes at the pleasure, feeling like you could fall back to sleep with this. He eventually stops, which is perhaps good because you would’ve choked with how much you were quietly moaning, but then he lightly drags his fingers down your back. His touch pierces through your shirt and your body shivers. You don’t see his face in the mirror, but you quickly rinse your mouth to mask your smile over how it felt.

“I’ll wash up,” he says as he heads inside the bathroom.

You yell out your thanks and exhale deeply, but then Mo-eum skips next to you and wiggles her eyebrows.

“So domestic,” she teases. 

“Shush,” you pout at her. “Dude’s a master at teasing, who would’ve thought.”

You get dressed, too, and it’s not long after when you’re all on your way to a restaurant for your lunch of the famed spicy braised chicken. You take the passenger seat of the car that Jimin’s driving and watch Jungkook ride his motorcycle again, who fortunately put on some sunblock after you reminded him before leaving. 

With Mo-eum at the back, you all laugh as Jungkook and Taehyung dance to some music at the stoplight, busting out moves that make them look ridiculous and adorable at the same time. 

You arrive at the restaurant and there’s a long table reserved for your group. You see your friends make eye signals to each other to get you and Jungkook to sit side by side, and you wanna smack them but also thank them for doing the work for you. Even if you have been making an effort to get close to him, you don’t want to be too obvious.

Which is also why you spend those moments right after you take your seat talking to Hoseok, who makes you laugh so hard that you almost fall off your chair. 

But of course, Jungkook is there to make sure that doesn’t happen, as he manages to hold onto your arm before your ass hits the floor.

“Yah, are you Jimin?!” He scolds you.

“Excuse me, I’m offended,” you gasp dramatically.

“Brat. You wish you were me,” Jimin bites back.

“I wish I had your ass,” you hum.

It’s pretty amazing. You’d give him that.

“But your ass is already nice!” Mo-eum chirps. “It’s very spankable.”

Your older friends laugh, already used to the unfiltered conversations of the young ones, and none of you really care about it. You glare at your best friend, though, because Jungkook definitely did not laugh.

The conversation shifts to something else and the food finally arrives. The mild spiced dish is closer to Taehyung, so you ask Jungkook to give you a serving in your bowl. He hands it back to you filled to the brim, and he reminds you to let it cool first so the heat level isn’t too extreme for you.

You look at the dish in front of you. It looks so delicious you might actually cry. Except for the vegetables.

“I don’t like carrots,” you pout, transferring the two large chunks from your bowl to his.

“You need to eat carrots, ___,” he says sternly. “They’re good for your eyesight. It helps you see warning signs that tell you to watch out for things that might hurt you.”

You stare at the piece that he puts on your bowl.

“Yeah, a small chunk will definitely help my eyes,” you sarcastically say.

“Then a big one, then,” he counters, putting back the one you just gave him. And then another. “And one more for both eyes.”

You’re back to where you started and you scowl at him.

“You’re so annoying.”

He responds with a smirk. A smirk! One that looks teasing more than anything.

“You could always just feed her,” Jimin suggests.

You glare at him. 

“What?!” He mouths, and it hits you that this might be more obvious because this type of teasing is normal, but you’re being so sensitive about it.

“I’m not a baby,” you frown.

And just as you’re about to take a spoonful, your hair flies to your mouth, causing the sauce to stick to the strands and then on your face. 

You groan in frustration, prompting laughter from your friends, but you reflexively turn to Jungkook with a pout.

“Say that again?” he chuckles, as he wets the napkin and wipes the sauce off your hair.

You wipe your face, too, while he pulls your hair back so you could tie it. He looks at you with a mix of teasing and endearment, yet something about it makes your heart race. 

All you can do is laugh at how ridiculous you look and he laughs along because he probably thinks so, too. He watches you take your first bite to make sure it lands then he resumes with his own dish and reminds you to eat your carrots. 

You actually do cry, as even the mild spicy version of the chicken is still a little too hot for you, but you can’t stop eating. The fried rice and ramyeon are so intense yet heavenly, and nothing’s ever hurt so good and satisfied you like this. 

Jungkook ends up wiping out the rest of the food. The only reason why you stayed in the restaurant as long as you did was so he could finish eating, and you have to remind him of what you’ll be doing after, prompting him to pass up on the dessert he was about to order. You take some time to walk around the area so you can digest though, and it’s not long after when you’re back on the road.

Jimin had suggested going to Active Park so you could all compete against each other on wall climbing, with the losers doing penalties tonight. As you agreed on, everyone joins, even the ones who aren’t really into things like this. That doesn’t include Jungkook though, as he excitedly skips to the receiving area like he didn’t just stuff himself with food an hour ago. 

But he loves these things and this is his playground. He likes being active and on the move - a contrast to you - and experiencing the thrill. He also happens to be really good at it. 

You all get briefed and get proper shoes on. He scurries inside and already chooses his first activity where he walks up high poles then free falls to the ground. Then he climbs three walls consecutively and goes mission impossible mode when he rapells down. The others start playing and you let them go first, as you secretly enjoy watching them freak out and squeal while falling. 

You eventually decide to psych yourself up by climbing up the poles so you call for one of the staff to repeat the instructions. Just then, Jungkook appears next to you - you swear you saw him competing with Taehyung just a second ago - and asks if you’re ready.

“Yes, and I’m not scared of heights,” you remind him. “I’m just clumsy.”

“Please make sure you land properly. And don’t mistakenly unhook your cord.”

“I won’t,” you roll your eyes at him. 

But you do call for him to look at you when you’re at the top and then ask for his praise when you get back on your feet safely.

He laughs at how excited you are and encourages you to try more. You tell him to just enjoy and do everything he wants and that you’ll be fine so he goes, competes with almost everyone, and wins it all. You follow your own pace and lose a few match-ups, but it’s loud and intense the whole time that you’re torn between trying things out for yourself and watching your friends do it.

Half of you get tired right away and choose to sit around to watch the more energetic ones as they keep going. You all cheer for Taehyung on the circular slide. You all encourage Suhyeon in the spiderman climb. And when Jimin hits his lip on the sandbag during the jump, you gather around him to ask if he’s okay.

“It’s just a cut,” he shrugs.

“Nope, you gotta ice it,” you say. “Mo-eum’s already getting one.”

“Listen to ___. She’s good at treating busted lips,” Jungkook hums.

“Of course you’d know,” Jimin smirks at him.

“We are not talking about that night,” you frown as you press the cloth-covered ice cube on your best friend’s wound.    

“Why are you the one triggered when it’s Jungkook’s who got elbowed?” Yoongi asks you. 

“Because she got so angry and even attempted to run after the guy who hurt Kook,” Mo-eum informs them. “You know ___ when she’s angry. It ain’t good.”

They rehash that night and you kind of block it out, not wanting to remember what those intense feelings were like. But then again, maybe that’s when this whole Jungkook thing started so maybe it isn’t all that bad. 

Jungkook finally decides that he’s done and sits next to you on one of the chairs. You hand him a bottle of water and ask him if he's satisfied.

“Yup,” he heaves. “Hands are just a bit tired but they’re fine. And oh, my busted lip has healed.”

You snicker and look away.

“I don’t know if I ever properly thanked you for that night, ___,” he says. “So, uh, thank you. I don’t think I’ll ever forget all the times that you stood up for me.”

“Technically, it was just one time. It would’ve been more if people weren’t stopping me,” you laugh. 

“Well, there’s a reason for that, you know?” He nudges your knee. “You can actually get in trouble or get hurt. I… I don't really know how I’d be able to handle that. So don’t get yourself hurt, okay?”

“Is that why you were tailing me this whole time? You were scared I’d hurt myself?” You cock an eyebrow.

“___, you hurt yourself in your own house. Because of your couch. This place is filled with hazards.”

“Oh shush,” you laugh now. “Well, nothing happened to me. I think I’m improving.”

“No injuries today so you might just be,” he winks.

“You’d still look out for me, though?” you turn to him.

“Always,” he smiles. 

You head outdoors after a bit of rest to go-kart. Just when you thought that most of you have drained all your energy from wall climbing, it turns out that driving can actually restore it, as all of you quickly choose your karts and start riding around the track. With the breeze pushing you and the fluffy clouds against the blue sky as your background, it’s actually very relaxing.

You go only a few laps. Hoseok, Seokjin, Jimin, and Taehyung race five rounds because someone is always complaining or cheating. Jungkook skids like he’s on Fast and the Furious, and Suhyeon and Hayoung are just happily going about in their lanes.

There’s that feeling of calmness when you all take your seats on the benches in the adjacent playground with your iced drinks in hand. You laugh at Namjoon constantly being stuck in the track because he was confused over which foot had to press what, and then Yoongi bumping him because he couldn’t stop earlier. You’re laughing about last night, too, and just everything that’s been happening on this trip.

As always, Jimin and Taehyung play with the horse rockers, then Jungkook joins them when they spin in the merry-go-round. Mo-eum goes with you when you scurry to the big slide. You run up the steps, squealing as you do, and then trip on one of them.

Mo-eum goes to your rescue and tries to hold in her laugh. But the thump and her constant chuckling gets your friends’ attention and as you look up, you see Jungkook incredulously looking at you.

“So… about me not having injuries today, I think you jinxed it,” you smile sweetly at him. 

In Jungkook fashion, he laughs, helps you up, then puts a band-aid over the scraped skin on your shin. 

He might not always be next to you, but he’ll be there whenever you need him. You think that perfectly describes these last few months of getting closer to him. You hope it’ll be like that from here on out.

Watching the sky turn dark from the property’s outdoor area is quite magical, as you’re learning now. You’d just woken up from a long nap after arriving home and you’re now on the hammock, with your hands behind your head, taking in how stunning the view is. You’re next to Mo-eum who’s doing the same, and the others have taken their spots in different areas, too.

Not long after, you put on a dress and head to a restaurant for an omakase dinner. It’s another one of those spoils from Seokjin and Hayoung and you pretty much thank them after praising the chef with every dish. 

The ingredients are so fresh and they’ve been prepared so delicately. Taehyung dramatically walks around in awe and Jungkook jumps on his seat all night with how much he’s enjoying the food. It’s hard not to laugh when watching everyone react, and that includes you. You’re just as expressive as everyone is, including Yoongi and Gyu-rim who often just say the simplest things when describing their appreciation for food.

Hoseok buys a fancy bottle of sake to take home where you all finish it, alongside the other drinks you bought on the way back. 

It’s a beautiful evening but you suppose that everyone’s just spent from everything you’d done today, as you all just take a seat around the fire pit and talk. The penalties will have to be be done tomorrow, you all agree.

You fall asleep on Hayoung’s shoulder in the midst of the tired laughter and end up lying on her lap. Your lower body spills over to Jimin’s lap as well, and he just chuckles and says that the princess is tired.

“Want me to help you get ready for bed?” Your cousin whispers in your ear.

You’re still a bit aware of your surroundings and could hear what she says, and you tell her it’s fine and that they should all stay while you take a nap. But you don’t know how long you’re asleep for until you feel yourself being pulled up.

“Let’s go, I’ll help you wash up,” Mo-eum says to you.

You let her guide you up until you’re lying in bed in your pajamas, ready to fall into deep sleep. 

Jungkook sits on the edge of the bed right next to yours. Taehyung is on the floor mattress this time after lying on it to have a feel and then falling asleep right away, so Jungkook gets to have a different view of you this time.

He chuckles as he watches your breathing deepen and then steady. You must really be tired after all those activities and the amazing dinner and he wouldn’t be surprised as he’s exhausted, too. 

But it felt nice spending the day like this, even if he wasn’t next to you all the time. He’d been too excited with the wall climbing but he always made sure to watch you whenever you did it. He was having so much fun during go-karting but he always looked for you on the track and smiled at you whenever he passed you by after you stopped driving. 

Even during dinner, you were sandwiched between Hayoung and Namjoon so Jungkook just glanced at you to see how you found the food because he was losing his mind. And then after you all got home, he just softly watched you slowly fall asleep. You looked so cozy though, like he just wanted to hug you until he fell asleep, too, just like now, as you finally turn towards your side facing him. 

You’re hugging a pillow and Jungkook laughs to himself at how much he wished that was him. It must feel nice, he thinks, to have you that close. Maybe you’d talk until someone knocks out mid-sentence like what happened in Sapporo. Maybe you’d laugh until you get tired. Maybe you could do more, just like the home he wants to cuddle in.

He shakes his head at the thoughts in his mind. He’s thinking too much and definitely too far ahead. He has that hope that you might feel the same way. After all, he’s seen you space out while looking at him, whether up close or from afar, and he knows that means your mind has travelled to so many places. He could only hope your thoughts were about him, perhaps about settling into your feelings, whatever those are. 

But he’s quite a patient man when it comes to things he really, really wants. He’s holding out hope that somehow, you’re thinking and figuring things out yourself, and as long as you are, he’ll just admire you and enjoy what he gets to share with you as much as he can.

The morning comes longer than you expected, and that tells you that you probably had a really good sleep. You remember seeing the blaze from the fire pit and dozing off, then briefly washing up before crashing out again. 

But the light is blaring through the blinds now and you let out a yawn. You stretch your arms and look around to find yourself alone in the room, and you check your phone to see what time it is and what everyone else is up to. It’s 9 AM and it seems that there’s takeaway breakfast downstairs. 

Just then, you hear Mo-eum calling for you as she climbs up the stairs.

“Hey, you’re up!” She chirps. “You didn’t wake up even with the guys’ early alarm, huh?”

“Nope, I was passed out. But I slept so well,” you mumble. “Where’d they go?”

“To the other side of the island. Tae and Kook wanted to ride their bikes then decided to buy breakfast for everyone so they called Jimin to pick up the food,” she laughs. “Let’s go eat!”

You nod and wash up before heading downstairs with her. People have gathered at the kitchen while some are already outside, enjoying the sun and the cool morning breeze. There’s an array of breakfast wraps and sandwiches and sweet and savory pastries that it’s hard to choose. But you pick up a few and look around to try your friends’ choices, knowing they’ll let you.

You get a bite from Mo-eum and Hayoung then Jimin, then you see Jungkook going back inside to get another serving. He chooses the bacon bun and you think he sees your eyes light up, because he’s walking towards you and offering you a bite. 

“Hmm, that’s good,” you smile satisfyingly. 

“It is, right?” he smiles. “Is the wrap okay?”

“Yup. It’s very filling.”

“Nice. I thought you’d like that,” he hums. “Did you see the iced black sesame drink I got you?” He asks as he grabs a cup from the bag. “I told them to tell you it’s here. I thought you’d like it. But there’s hot coffee and uh, my barely touched iced americano if you want.”

“This sounds like my kind of drink,” you smile at him now, taking what he got you.

It’s delicious and you tell him so. You walk out towards the lounge chair by the pool where he follows and you ask him about where they went to earlier.

“There’s this stretch of the ocean where you can see some dolphins and Tae wanted to check them out,” Jungkook says. “So we took our bikes there around 7 and just drove around the town. He was chatting with the locals and they told us what other areas to check out. Then we got some breakfast and called Jimin.”

“Oh, that sounded fun! Where did they say to go?”

“The lesser known parks that also have the cherry blossoms in full bloom, this hill with wildflowers, a pier that has a nice view of the ocean,” he shares. “They said where we watched the dolphins is a good spot to watch the sunrise and we should go back but I said we leave tomorrow so probably the next trip.”

“We leave in the afternoon though,” you remind him. “That actually sounds nice.”

“Do you… want to ride and catch the sunrise in the morning?” he asks, testing the waters. “We could still take the car but the bike is just a different experience. It’ll be cold but they swore by it and said the fishermen love that area because of how pretty it is.”

“You’ll make sure I’ll be safe right?” You nervously ask, as the thought of riding a motorcycle with him is both a thrilling and terrifying thought for completely different reasons. “I mean, you know how dramatic I am with a stubbed toe. Imagine me injured, so I’m sure you’ll make sure that won’t happen.” 

“Definitely not letting that happen,” he chuckles.

“Good! Wake me up, okay! And should, uh, should we invite the others?”

It’s a courtesy question, you think, even if you’re unsure you’re ready to be alone with him to do something that you think is quite intimate - not only in riding his bike with him but also watching something beautiful together. 

“Yeah, sure,” Jungkook hums. 

It won’t hurt, you convince yourself, even if you hope deep down that no one will take the offer.

[to: My Elders] Kook and I are riding his bike to this spot to watch the sunrise. Anyone want to join?

It’s barely 10 seconds in when Jimin replies. 

[from: jiminie pabo] nope. and i speak for everyone.

You know what he’s doing so you quickly turn to where he is by the hammock and try to glare at him but he only smiles and gives a not-so-subtle thumbs up sign. You could only hope he didn’t say anything to anyone about what you feel and that this potential alone time with Jungkook is something that you’d want to have.

[to: My Elders] K then. Just tell us if you change your mind.

You turn to Jungkook. “They said they don’t want to. Well, Jimin did but he probably asked them. Are you still good?”

“Of course,” he smiles. “I’ll wake you up early then and we could get back here and still have time for a nap before we head out.”

“Sounds good,” you smile, hoping that the constant smiling isn’t giving you away too much, given that you’ve been doing that to him all trip. “Can’t wait.”

You talk a bit more about the sights he saw until your food and drinks have finished. You’re heading back to the kitchen for water when Taehyung suggests swimming in the pool before going for a ride around some areas of the island, just like what the locals had said. 

Everyone agrees, except for Yoongi, and you all change into your swimsuits and take advantage of the nice weather. 

You think at this point that you’re already immune to Jungkook’s bare body. You’ve seen it so many times before this trip and even just these past days, even if you technically zoned out in admiration this time. 

As the universe would have it, you are actually not immune, especially when you head out to the pool and find him on his hands and knees, trying to balance himself on the watermelon floatie, with all his muscles working full-time to keep himself from falling into the water. 

Your stupid mind conjures up images that you definitely should not be thinking about, and you turn away in time before he catches you staring at him again.

Mo-eum walks over to you and you both walk towards the pool to have a dip. But of course, Jimin and Taehyung cannonball into the water and start playing like the children that they are. They play with the water guns, too, and with Jungkook and their recruit, Hoseok, they run around the house and try to shoot each other as if they aren’t already wet.

The rest of you adults just chill around, content enough with the cool water and the fact that the sun doesn’t seem too much yet. It’s when the boys return that Seokjin reminds everyone of the penalties from yesterday’s game and suggests playing more games until there’s only one person left to receive the punishment. There's a handstand race, which Hoseok loses, and then there’s the chicken fight, which is a three-way match between you, Gyu-rim, and Suhyeon. 

Jimin says that the men with the sturdiest shoulders should be the other half of the pairs, and with Suhyeon being paired with Namjoon and Gyu-rim calling dibs on Taehyung, that’s how you end up with Jungkook as your partner. 

You try your best to not look affected even if you’re freaking out inside. You ask Jungkook instead if he’s ready to win and save your ass from drinking Seokjin’s terrible concoction. 

He chuckles and says that he trained his whole life to always win at chicken fights and that he has amazing grip. While you should’ve taken that lightly, your mind goes somewhere again that you have to pinch your cheeks as a reminder to get away from that place and instead focus. 

He asks if you’re ready then assists you in getting on his shoulders and he’s right, his grip on your thighs is pretty good and you just know he’s gonna be holding you steady all throughout. You practice some moves and he advises you on what to do. 

“Will you hate me if I pull your hair,” you ask.

“Nope. I will if you fart, though.”

“I’ll try. Let’s hope I don’t get too excited,” you tease.

“Yah!” he exclaims, threatening to drop you in the water.

You hold onto his cheeks for support and you laugh and say he’s being dramatic. 

When Seokjin calls for the start of the match, you and Jungkook get your game faces on. He told you earlier to be aggressive so that’s what you do, and he expertly maneuvers his body so you can have the right angle for a good hit. You pull his hair only a little, but he doesn’t mind, especially when Suhyeon falls first, and then Gyu-rim follows right after. 

You celebrate your win with cheering and tender taps on Jungkook’s cheeks. He slowly drops you and you reflexively hug each other in joy. You feel the tingles at being so close to him, especially with your skin being in contact with his, and then your hands brushing against each other and lingering under the water. 

You sit next to each other on the pool ledge as you watch the two other women play rock-paper-scissors, with Gyu-rim losing and facing Hoseok for a palm push match while standing on a floatie.

It ends up being so intense. Hoseok has crazy core strength and can balance well but Gyu-rim is playing aggressively. It’s especially funny when Yoongi gets so into the match and keeps yelling out instructions for her to follow, even going as far as taunting Hoseok, causing him to laugh and eventually lose. 

Everyone explodes in laughter at the series of events. It has truly woken all of you up and you feel energized. You stay in the pool for a few more minutes before getting changed, ready for a drive around the island.

Mo-eum is on the wheel this time while you make yourself comfortable next to her. You all watch Jungkook and Taehyung enjoy themselves again on their bikes as they guide you and the other cars to a quieter part of town. 

You find a stunning waterfall and then go to the hill with wildflowers, which also has a nice view of the mountains. You buy some rice cakes from a store then get some iced drinks from a cafe before heading to a park to look at all the springtime flowers in full bloom. 

Much as you want to just stay next to Jungkook whenever you hang around a new place, you find yourself enjoying watching him just be. Whether he’s looking around and enjoying the view or being rowdy and playful with your friends, you’re captivated by what he does and how he is, which is totally new to you. 

“Even you weren’t that endeared with your exes,” Mo-eum points out when you’re back in the car to head to a beach. “I mean, I guess I get it. They weren’t exactly charming people, no offense.”

You look at her in question, wondering what made her say it.

“You were looking at Kook with sparkly eyes,” she shrugs. “Just thought you should know in case you didn’t know.”

“I—” you stutter, clearly unaware. 

“It’s fine, dude. It’s just us,” Jimin chuckles. “It’s how it is when you like someone, you know?”

“Was I not like this with my exes?” You ask them.

“Hmm, not really. You were ecstatic at the start, obviously,” Mo-eum says. “But I don’t recall you being this… soft. It might come with age, who knows? You’re probably exhausted from feeling so intensely all the time.”

You let her words settle as it turns quiet in the car, save for the blowing of the wind through the open windows. It must be tiring to experience such strong feelings all the time; you suppose that’s why you never really got to pay attention to them.

With Jungkook, you’ve been having these feelings for a few weeks now, and they’ve been ruminating, like you’re settling into them as you try to make sense of how this could happen. You suppose in your constant questioning or even disbelief, it’s allowed you to take things slow. With this trip and being around him as much as you are, you’re gradually getting used to feeling this way while not throwing yourself completely into it right away. You’re also getting used to you being like this.

You suppose that’s made you take notice of everything else about him. It’s also what’s making you look at him more softly, as if you’re getting to know him from afar.

Your thoughts are suspended for a while when you arrive at a quiet beach. It’s the perfect spot for a swim and you watch your friends put on their sunblocks and rush to the water. You’re surprised at how much energy all of you still have but it’s probably the most free you’ve all felt in a long time. 

You sit on the beach towel that’s been set on the ground. You’re watching them play around while putting on your sunscreen when you hear Jungkook call your name before sitting down next to you.

“Hey,” you say. “Why aren’t you there with them yet?”

“Tae and Jimin made me put on their sunscreens then ran to the water,” he pouts. “Do I still have some on my face?”

You look at him when he turns to face you. You spread the bit that’s on his nose and chin then tell him he’s all good. He puts on his arms and you have to turn away and act unaffected when he spreads the lotion on his chest and torso. He turns to you again with his bunny-like smile and asks if you could put on his back.

“Sure,” you smile. 

You do it as calmly as you can, forcing thoughts out of your mind because while this isn’t the first time you’ve done this, it’s the first time that you’re desiring him.

He asks if you’ll swim, too, and you instinctively nod so he offers to put some on your back. You nod again, not at all ready for his palms to press against your skin like this. 

Of all times to wear a two-piece suit, it really had to be now and you think that you could’ve stuck to what you wore this morning. You remove your cover up dress and turn around, hoping that he won’t feel the shiver on your skin once he touches you.

But you feel it, not because the lotion is cold but because his hand is rough and gentle at the same time. He’s quiet, too, so you don’t know what’s going on in his mind and you suddenly feel tense, especially when he moves down to your waist and you jerk in surprise. 

But he doesn’t say anything until he’s finished. You mumble your thanks and he faces the water once you start spreading the lotion on your arms and legs. 

Mo-eum yells for both of you to come so Jungkook stands up and offers his hand for you to take, which you do. Your fingers brush against each other again and you can’t help the small smile that forms on your face, until you find out that there are pebbles that line the shore which you have to cross to get to the water and you express your dismay.

“It’s just like acupuncture on your feet,” Jungkook explains.

“I don’t like them. They hurt,” you pout.

“Come on. It’s not that bad,” he says.

You still look unsure so he offers his hand again and you take it, letting him ease the pressure on your feet as you walk over. You make it, and you sigh in relief once you’re submerged in the cool water. 

Your friends join you and you all just soak in the feeling of being here and wave at the others who opted to stay on the shore. 

When you all collectively start getting dehydrated, you decide to head back. You groan when you reach the pebbled part of the shore again and Jungkook chuckles next to you.

“Do you want to ride on my back? Do you want me to throw you to the other side or build you a bridge?” He teases.

The piggyback ride is definitely tempting but you opt for something else.

“Hold my hand again?” You ask.

He softly smiles and offers his and you gladly take it. You almost don’t want to let go but you do, hoping for another chance to do it again. 

You all lay on the towels to dry up a bit before heading back on the road for a last drive to a pier before heading to a restaurant for some black pork belly for dinner. 

You sit next to Jungkook, given the realization that it’s your last night and tomorrow’s your last day. When you get back to Seoul, it’s back to the daily grind and your usual schedule. You want to see him again. In fact, you want to see him more. 

You could reason that you’re just doing what you’ve been doing these past months if you ask him to hang out or go with you to buy something or watch a movie in your apartment. Or you could just be honest with him and tell him how you feel, perhaps see if he feels the same way and figure out where you go from here. 

The thought makes you giggle and butterflies explode in your belly thinking that he might like you, too. You don’t want to assume. It could be that he’s always been this attentive or affectionate to you and you never really paid attention because maybe, he stayed the same and you’re the one that changed. 

It’s also possible that alongside you, he also changed. Or you may also just be reading too much into it and you’re completely off the mark and it may be the worst thing in the world but then maybe it isn’t. Not having him around you in any way is definitely much worse and that thought makes your heart skip a beat for all the wrong reasons. 

You don’t want to think of a life where he isn’t around, same as you can’t imagine the last 10 years without him. Would trying to have something more put all that in jeopardy? 

But you’ve always been a risk-taker. You’ve been rejected before but you got over it and you never regretted going for something you want for fear of what you’ll lose. 

Then again, Jungkook is different; he’s your friend. Losing him because he doesn’t feel the same way would be terrible for you.

But who’s to say you’ll lose him even if he doesn’t like you back? You’ll make sure you won’t and—

“Yah,” he nudges your knee. “Can your wandering mind get its ass back here? We’ve got dinner to eat. I’m cooking this pork perfectly so you better be present for it.”

You turn to him who’s teasingly laughing at you and you shake your head, knowing he’d seen your face probably express all the different thoughts and emotions you just experienced all in one minute. 

“Okay, better get going and cook it to perfection then,” you say smugly. 

Jungkook shows off when he’s challenged and that’s what he does. He gives a commentary of how he’s grilling the pork and even does tricks of opening the soju and beer bottles to the delight of everyone. But he’s right to boast because the meat does taste amazing. He’s rendered the fat well and it’s so juicy, everyone moans through dinner. 

You all stay in the restaurant a while to make sure everyone’s sobered up before heading back to the house where you watch an outdoor movie - a sci-fi horror film that Mo-eum insisted on because she thinks she’ll be less scared with more people around. 

She wasn’t right about that and you fared much better with Jungkook next to you, mostly because you were actually nervous to do something silly, like snuggle with him or hold his hand. You screamed only in one part and managed to cover your mouth in time. He teasingly laughed at you though and said he wasn’t going anywhere even if you screamed again.

There’s dancing and singing right after to get over what you just watched. There’s also definitely more alcohol. But you hold off a little, knowing you have that sunrise ride in the morning with Jungkook, which you’re really doing alone with him because everybody else passed up on it. 

You see him drink less, too, and you look at each other after rejecting Namjoon’s drink offers and know you’re thinking the same. 

The night still ends right before midnight though, and once you’re settled on your side of the bed and Jungkook is tucked under the covers on his, he asks you again about tomorrow.

“You sure you’re ready to wake up and brave the cold?”

“Yes. You’ll make sure I will,” you laugh.

“Okay then. See you in the morning.”

Waking you up before 5 AM isn’t as bad as Jungkook expected. You open your eyes after the fifth tap and raise your arms for him to pull so you could get off the bed. You trip on the floor mattress but thankfully don’t wake Taehyung up nor stub your toe so that’s a success in Jungkook’s books. 

You insist on washing up downstairs so you don’t wake your friends up and he has to guide you down the steps because you’re still half asleep. You do your business then wait for him to do his.

You jerk in surprise when he exits the bathroom in just his joggers, and you grumbly ask him why he’s always naked. When he laughs at your question, you ask him why he’s laughing, and he just waves this off as you, speaking your mind like always. 

You ask for his jacket though, since the thickest one you have is still wet and he’s got one he could lend you so he wears the thinner one so you’d feel warmer.

There are a dozen things that could’ve gone wrong with just getting you out of the door but they didn’t happen so yes, this isn't as bad as Jungkook had imagined. 

You make your way to his motorcycle and he faces you to put on your helmet.

“Don’t be scared, okay? Tell me if you are then I’ll slow down,” he instructs. “But just hold tight. You know I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

“Okay,” you smile softly. 

He gets on the bike and you follow his instructions for getting behind him. You wear the backpack with the hot drinks inside then you wrap your arms around his waist as security. 

You quickly settle in and loosen your hold around him just a little. It’s still dark everywhere so there’s not much to see so you just focus on how he feels in front of you, liking the warmth he emits and the stability he provides as he carefully drives around. 

It’s not a long drive but you suppose that’s fine. You get to the viewing spot and quickly see the start of the sun’s ascent.

“Not bad, right?” He gestures to his bike. “It rides pretty smooth and it’s not too loud.”

“It was fine,” you assure him. “I didn’t feel like I was gonna fall off or anything.”

He smiles in response and helps you sit on the ledge of a wall that gives a good view of the ocean. With cups of hot tea in hand, you sit in silence as the sky starts to lighten, as if you’re witnessing the changing of the guards and it’s now the sun’s turn to watch over earth. 

It’s breathtaking and you think of all the times you’d taken the sunrise for granted. It’s slow but it’s constant. It may look different, depending on where you’re watching it from, but it still happens everyday and you either go through your day without thinking about it or you stop and look at the sun and think that it did its best in showing up today. 

That’s how it is with things you’ve gotten used to sometimes - you stop paying attention, and perhaps that’s when you miss out on important things. 

You recall the sunrise during your hike a few months ago when Jungkook stayed back to make sure you made it to the top. You don’t even know where he was when you all sat down by the rocks to watch and perhaps that says a lot with how you looked at him then. Because you’re here alone with him now, and you already know this moment will last with you for a long time. 

Maybe your friendship is like the sunrise. It will always be there, but you could watch it on top of a mountain or by the ocean or along Hangang River and the view changes. You know you changed, and now that you’ve paid attention, you want to know if this friendship could change into something more, too.

“Now that’s satisfying,” Jungkook hums as the sun settles above the water now.

“Thanks for telling me about this place and bringing me here, Kook,” you turn to face him. “It’s uh, it’s something I’ll always remember.”

“Yeah. Me, too,” he responds. 

You don’t know if it’s the sincerity in his eyes or it’s just you being caught up in the moment, but you glance at his lips and think for a millisecond that crashing yours against his is a good idea. 

His phone alarm ringing fortunately knocks some sense into you and you turn away in time for you to not do anything abrupt and maybe unwelcome. He remarks that he forgot to set it off for this time and you nod, internally thankful that he did. 

It’s at that moment when you hear sounds from the water and see that dolphins have come to swim on this part of the ocean. You’re so surprised and excited that you reflexively hold his hand but he doesn’t seem put off and he lets it stay there.

You don’t mind at this point. All you know is that it feels right and you want to feel it again. 

The moment ends and you look at each other in awe at being able to experience something so wholesome and beautiful together. You suppose it’s too much for words, as you get back on the bike and ride around town with not many words. 

It’s a longer trip this time, as he says that he’ll take the other route so there’s more of the town to see, and you don’t mind at all. You’d like to hold him like this as long as possible.

You make it back to the house and take a nap until everyone else wakes up. You pack your bags and load them in the trunk before you head out for some stir fried pork lunch. Jungkook and Taehyung follow after returning their bikes and you watch Jungkook from afar, beefing with Jimin about the sausage and then finishing more portions than he said he’d have.

You drive to the airport and don’t wait long before you board the plane. You sit next to Jungkook again and you lean on each other just like the flight coming here. But you suppose something’s really changed now, as you comfortably snuggle closer and think that you want to keep doing this, maybe hold hands, too. Perhaps share a kiss?

It’s all too much and probably too soon but you’ll care about all that later on. You want to bask in the possibilities first; the thoughts of consequences will come soon after you separate from him. 

And it does, after you hang out at Jungkook’s place with Taehyung, Jimin, and Mo-eum and then he drops you off at yours. 

“So, Tae invited himself and you guys to my apartment on Saturday,” you say when you open your door and he rolls your luggage inside your home. “You’ll be there, right?”

“Of course,” he smiles.

“I’ll return your hoodie all fresh and washed then!”

“No problem. You take care, yeah? Hopefully the trip gave you a bit of energy for the week.”

“It did. It gave me a lot actually. You, too,” you smile back.

“Same,” he nods. “I’ll head out and see you, yeah?”

“Good night, Kook!” You yell out.

“Good night!”

You lie on your couch once you close the door and take in his scent on his hoodie that you don’t want to remove just yet. You already can’t wait to see him again. You also know you’re gonna have to find a way to deal with all this and you’ll have to do it without losing him in the process.

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[fairestwriting]

Hii! I love your writing! Not sure if you did this yet, but could I get headcanons of what Leona, Jamil, Vil, and Lilia would call their s/o? (Other than herbivore on Leona’s part) Thank you so much <3

THANK YOU!!! this is a little (just a little) different from the way i usually write hcs but i hope you like ittt

𐙚 Leona Kingscholar

Leona didn’t really intend for it to be his personal nickname for you or anything, but yeah, Herbivore does stick — at least for a while — and yeah, he’ll still use it even if you’re also a beastperson, regardless of what you truly are. He actually thinks it’s extra funny to use it if it doesn’t suit you.

The nicknaming is going to evolve with time, though. He does like using the occasional baby or babe, just casually, and probably not in public, but it won’t be the main thing he’ll call you. His preference very much is in giving you a specific, fitting nickname. Something no one else could call you, at least not in the way he does.

Since he’s started out with Herbivore, he’s most likely to keep following that animal theming route. It feels right, anyway. He’ll think about it, going through many, many working titles until he finds something that feels perfectly customized. It’s a significant amount of time until he just springs your brand new nickname on you, grinning all proud of himself... And after that day, that’s basically your second name.

𐙚 Jamil Viper

Jamil likes using your first name, and he’ll mostly stick to that. When you’re around others, it’s basically a given that he won’t be calling you darling or sweetheart or anything like that, since he prefers to keep your relationship away from the prying eyes of strangers. PDA is just not his thing, and it will never really be.

Part of why he sticks with using just your even in private is just the comforting familiar feel of it, but he also does genuinely love your name. If you listen closely, you’ll notice that the way he says it now is just a little different from how he said it before you got together…

On the rare occasion he calls you something other than your name, you can pretty much be sure it’s always going to come after a ”my”. Something like my love or my dear, which, fittingly, is more likely to slip out when he’s feeling more possessive than usual. But it’s pretty much reserved for that, plus whenever he’s comforting you for any somewhat serious reason. If you ask him to say it more often, he gets all flustered.

𐙚 Vil Schoenheit

Like Jamil, he also really enjoys using just your first name, said in this way that’s just slightly softer than how he says everyone else’s names. What distinguishes them is that Vil does that intentionally, in this specific way that’s clear enough for you to maybe pick up on, but not everyone else.

He really does like using petnames in private though. Vil is a little hesitant at first, because he’s definitely said the words before in some production he acted in. He didn’t think much of it then, they were just words for him— But now that he’s doing it for real, he can’t help but notice just how different it feels. He knew it would feel different, he just wasn’t expecting it to feel that intimate…

In these moments, he finds himself being particularly fond of the more domestic-sounding kind. Honey is a common one, darling is used but a bit less so, it’s mostly for when he’s feeling particularly affectionate. Silently expects you to return the gesture, but it still makes him blush a little whenever you do.

𐙚 Lilia Vanrouge

Lilia brings out the petnames pretty early on. Just around the time when he realizes his interest in you, which comes with the decision that now, his flirting is going to be intentional. The first one he uses will probably be something simple, easy to sprinkle into his usual speech, like dear.

He kind of likes the more “ambiguous” sounding names— That kind of stuff you might hear from the nice old lady who lives down your street. Hun and sweetie are other two favorites of his. Needless to say, he not only keeps it up even after you two start dating, but also specifically focuses on using whatever gets him the biggest reactions from you.

Despite having clear favorites, though, his approach to petnames is almost like he’s going down a list. One day you’re love, then the next you’re sweetheart. He likes to switch it up, see how you like different names, how you react to them. Very much encourages you to return the gesture, and if you do, he’ll copy whatever petname you call him, so you two match.

if you like my work you can support me by commissioning me or tipping me on ko-fi ── ᵎᵎ ✦

[rainydayathogwarts]

the red box - platonic!marauders

summary: when your friends are helping you clean out the belongings you'd gathered from your last relationship, marlene seems to forget the only rule. do not open the red box. wc: 1.2k+ cw: suggestive vibe, mentions/description of sex, inappropriate photos described i acc dont know what possessed me to write this...

“Okay,” You started, looking around the room where your friends had all been gathered around a giant cardboard box, where you’d kept all the belongings you had from your relationship with your ex. “Firstly, I want to thank you all for volunteering to be here today instead of Hogsmeade.” “I’m only here because everyone else volunteered and I didn’t want to be alone.” You shot Sirius an irritated look, but the corners of your mouth tugged up into a smile.

Clearing your throat, you continued your speech “Today is going to be difficult for all of us. I may shed tears, you may come across some not very appropriate things. But the most important thing you need to know is that you cannot open the small red box-” “What small red box?”

“Thanks Marlene, I’m getting there. A small red box is a box that is red, slightly smaller than a shoe box. Don’t open it. Thank you.” “What’s in the red box?” You stared at Remus, feeling betrayed that he was the one to ask the question, because if anyone in the room could mind their own business, even just slightly, it would be him. You sighed. There was no hope for you.

“Photos.” There was a collective gasp around the room, and you put your hands on your hips. Lily giggled, raising her eyebrows at you suggestively. “What, you mean you don’t want us to see you naked?” Sirius suddenly straightened his back, looking much more interested in this charity event than he had been three minutes ago. James furrowed his eyebrows “Why on earth have you kept photos with-” “-You don’t know what the photos are!” But your defensive tone had told them everything there is to know. “Anyway…”

The next half an hour was spent with the six of you going through the big cardboard box, each person in the group pulling out miscellaneous items and asking if you were keeping or throwing it. At the sight of James holding an old, battered hoodie, you mumbled “Oh, keep that.” Every head in the room turned to look at you with equally judgemental looks on their faces. “Love, you’re not keeping your ex’s hoodie.” You stared back at Remus’s disapproving gaze, reaching forward to take the hoodie from James’s hands.

James shook his head, holding it out of your reach. “I wasn’t even going to ask if you wanted to keep this. It has to go.” You tried to hide the pout that was fighting its way onto your face. “It’s comfy. I’m not gonna cry about him or anything.” You reached for the sweater again, but James shook his head, throwing the hoodie into the ‘throw’ pile. You gasped.

Lily put a hand on your back, caressing you softly. “You’ll hate us for it now, but trust me you’ll be thanking us in the long run.” You scoffed, muttering “Sure.” As you looked down in your lap, fiddling with your hands.

“Hey what’s this box?” You glanced up at Marlene, watching as she started taking the lid off a little red box. You screeched, yelling “Don’t open that!” You nearly tackled Marlene as you snatched the box away from her, but it was too late. The lid had skidded over to the other side of the room, and Marlene had already glanced at the images inside. “Oh my god.” She muttered, laughing in surprise, a dark blush on her face. “There was one rule!” you shrieked, your face hot, clutching the box tightly to your chest, one hand covering the images on the top.

“Marlene… What did you see?” You glanced down at the images on the top layer of the box, all moving polaroids, and shut your eyes dreadfully. None of these would you want any of your friends to look at. Marlene swallowed thickly. “The one where you’re-the one with his. The one where you’re…” Marlene made a slurping sound and you groaned horrifically from where you had stood up.

“Hey, don’t worry, it’s an-it’s an insanely hot photo. Almost too sexy.” From the corner of your eye, you saw Sirius and Remus perking up. But they weren’t the ones who yelled out “I want to see it!” No, that was Lily. James looked at his girlfriend with a shocked look on his face.

“I’m not showing it to you!”

“Marlene saw it!”

“I didn’t want Marlene to see it!”

“Oh, so you like her better than me!”

“No- I never said that!”

"Yeah, well you didn't have to say it."

"Lily..." Your best friend stared at you blanking. Sighing, you fished the polaroid from the top of the pile. Lily clapped her hands together excitedly, reaching out to take the image you were holding out to her. She held it close to her chest, as though it was secret. Well, it was, but the theatrics we a bit much. Lily’s eyes widened, and she looked up at you with a wide grin. “If I had a cock right now I’d be rock hard.” She told you, keeping steady eye contact. “Okay, that’s enough.”

“Wait, now I want to see!” Sirius spoke, earning himself a punch in the shoulder from Remus. “Ew, you’re not looking at that.”

“Why not? Lily said it’s hot.”

“Um actually, I said it’s hot!” Cut in Marlene, a look of pride on her face. “Sirius, I’m not about to show you a moving image of me sucking dick.” Sirius gulped thickly, shrugging his shoulders lightly. “Why not?” Good question. Why not? You mimicked his movement, shrugging your shoulders. “Well if I show you, we might as well all have a look at all these pictures!” You exaggerated, throwing your arms out in a wild gesture.

“Yeah, okay.” Muttered Remus, holding his hand out to see the photo. Oddly enough, you found yourself taking a couple of steps forward and handing the boy the inappropriate image. “Can I?” You heard James ask Lily, who nodded encouragingly. Remus held the picture in his hand, the two other boys huddling around him to look at it. You finally sat down in between Lily and Marlene again, the group naturally forming a circle again.

“If I were you, I would have this photo framed and hung up in the entrance of my home.” You laughed at Sirius’s words, feeling heat creep up your neck. “It’s just a photo.” “Just a photo?” Remus retorted, smirking at the image in front of him. You cleared your throat shyly.

Yes, to you, it was just a photo. Your ex’s cock was buried deep in your throat, and you had tears running down your cheeks, the smokey makeup around your eyes shiny and smudged. Your lips had curled up slightly into a smile as you laughed lightly, and your ex’s hand had come up to gently hold the side of your head, pulling you off his cock slightly as he thrusted his hips forward, gagging you slightly. You remember the day, not the moment. When you cuddled in bed afterward, and he told you that he had almost cum on the spot.

“Okay, make the most of that because you’re not looking at any of these other photos.” Marlene and Lily scooted closer to you, and you sighed. “I guess you two can see.” You didn’t see them, but you heard Marlene and Lily high five behind your back before leaning forward to take a closer look at the box.

“Oh, this one next!”

taglist: @ravisinghs-wife, @amatoanima, @starry-remus, @pain-in-the-ashe, @hiireadstuff, @superlegend216, @treefairy-28, @kitkatkl, @rory-cakes, @juliet-f017, @fl0weryannie, @tiaajosephin, @why-am-i-like-this18, @theoraekenslover

[fawniswriting]

𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Synopsis: The story of a girl and her fallen flowers, as well as a boy who can't seem to forget either of them.

Word Count: 3.2k

Warning(s): 1940s!Bucky. 1940s!reader. winter-soldier!Bucky. TFATWS!Bucky. non-linear timeline (time-jumps). childhood friends to lovers. kissing. profanities. canon typical violence. bucky in the electric chair. brief mention of suicidal thoughts. fluff. kinda cheesy if you squint. mild angst. implied death (?). platonic sambucky. bittersweet ending I guess?? (you'll see what I mean)

Author's Note: okayyy so this didn't quite turn out the way I thought it would, but I loveeedd the concept as soon as I got it in my head and still wanted to share this story with you guys 🥺 idk why I seem to struggle translating my ideas properly lately 🫠 anywho, this is officially the shortest piece I've ever written, and I'm actually kind of challenging myself to start writing shorter pieces because I always end up blabbering non-stop in my fics (a side effect to being a yapper, I guess 😭). but despite all, I hope you'll still like this one and find it enjoyable! ❤️ and if you do, please don't forget: like, comment, and reblog 💞

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

“This is for you.”

Twelve-year-old Bucky Barnes looked up from the wriggling worm on the ground and squinted his eyes against the blinding sun. The sky of Brooklyn was the color of his eyes today, bright and vast as if someone had splashed a painter's brush across the horizon. Under the stretch of blue, his gaze landed on you—the new girl at school, the one his classmates had been whispering about since Mr. Morris decided to take everyone out to the park for today's PE lesson. 

Johnny Hurst told Bucky that you were the prettiest dame he had ever seen.

And boy, if the punk weren't telling the truth.

Bucky's eyes flitted over you from head to toe—taking in the slight tilt of your head, the subtle curve of your lips, and the worn blouse that clung to you at least half a size too big—before they finally landed on the hand outstretched towards him.

“What's this?” he asked.

“It's a flower.”

“I can see that.”

Abandoning the worm, Bucky rose to his feet and brushed the dust off his slacks. You observed his movements with fervor, your hand still curling around the yellow daffodil as if its petals held the cosmic tethers that kept the entire universe from falling apart.

You extended your palm further, positioning the flower directly under his nose until he could smell the fragrance caressing his cheeks.

“It's for you,” you repeated.

Bucky's eyes flicked twice between your face and the daffodil. “Is this a trick?”

“No.”

“Someone put you up to this?”

“No.”

“Where'd you get the flower?”

“From there.”

Bucky's eyes followed the direction of your finger, spotting the daffodil bushes located just a few paces ahead. Not in full bloom yet, but nearly. A golden oasis in the midst of a playground of gray and trampled grass.

You turned towards him again, your expression remaining unchanged as you told him, “I picked it up from the ground.”

Bucky stared at the daffodil in silence. “You're giving me a wilted flower?”

“It's not wilted.”

There was a shadow appearing in the center of your forehead. Your fingertips twitched where they hovered attentively around the yellow petals, as though the accusation had offended you, as though Bucky had spoken blasphemy against the flower by calling it wilted.

“It's been on the ground,” Bucky pointed out.

“So? It simply fell off. Doesn't mean it's wilted.”

“Ain't that the same thing?”

“No.” You pouted, your forehead creasing deeper as your hand cradled the daffodil closer to your chest. “A wilted flower is dead. It doesn't have any love remaining inside it. This flower is not like that.”

And then, like some kind of switch had been flipped, you angled your head towards him—entwining his eyes with your steadfast gaze, rendering his legs motionless with the sight of a brilliant grin stretching across your beautiful face.

“This flower still has a lot of love to give to the world,” you proclaimed.

Bucky's heart stuttered.

It must have been a premonition from the heavens when Bucky's arm began lifting of its own accord, receiving the daffodil from your hand and relishing in the elated hum that the gesture elicited. The petals were delicate against the skin of his palm, and Bucky suddenly feared the possibility of crushing them due to his overt carelessness.

“She's yours now.” You beamed, swaying slightly on your feet as your hands clapped in infectious joy. “She'll give you all of her love if you promise to take care of her.”

His lips quirked. “It's a she?”

“Of course,” you replied, the sun glinting radiantly in your pupils. “All the beautiful things in life are a she.”

Bucky couldn't find it in himself to argue.

He watched you leave with heart on his sleeve, bewitched by the ribbon of your laughter dancing in the wind. His fingers curled protectively around the yellow daffodil, his heart singing in tandem with the rhythm of your skipping feet echoing through the earth.

“Hey!” Bucky called out. You stopped halfway in your tracks, smiling at him from the distance like his wildest daydreams made into flesh. “Why me?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why'd you decide to give the flower to me?”

The grin on your face widened, and Bucky—bless his heart—thought for a moment that his entire limbs might collapse.

A breeze rustled the surrounding trees, cavorting around until it floated across your cheeks. You stumbled back a step upon its intrusion, your eyes peering shyly under the harsh judgment of the sun. And yet, your smile prevailed—still soft as a wisp, still managing to make Bucky's chest alight with something more precarious than a raging flame.

“Cause you're handsome,” you answered at last, the sound of your giggles resonating throughout the air and straight into Bucky's soul. “Take good care of her, James Buchanan Barnes.”

Blue eyes trailed along as you disappeared around the hedge, remnants of your melodic voice still dithering in the sky, a gentle lull against the wild thumping of his heart. As the world settled into its insipid normal, Bucky Barnes knew that there were two things of which he was absolutely certain.

One: the flower in his hand had now become the most prized possession in his otherwise monotone life.

And two: he had actually never told you his name.

Somehow, Bucky found that he didn't quite mind both.

“Say, handsome. Any chance you could tell a girl where to find a good time around here?”

Bucky hadn't even turned when the smile broke across his lips. 

His soul meandered towards your voice, his heart leaping out of its cage as he took in your entire figure for the first time that night—flowy dress and red lipstick, platform heels and a pair of lips that looked like they held whispers of a secret he would spend a lifetime trying to unravel. Your own smile blinded him as you approached closer, the cadence of your steps a harmonious symmetry with the surrounding ruckus of the carnival. 

“I'd show you a good time, doll.” He smirked once you stood in front of him, your chin tilting up in a way that made Bucky want to drop to his knees and worship the ground you had walked on. “All you gotta do is ask.”

“Really? Just ask?” You hummed, fluttering your lashes and sending a whole swing band loose in Bucky’s gut. “Shame. Here I thought I'd bargain a smooch for your company. Guess I'll just have to give it to someone else, then.”

You didn't have a chance to turn before Bucky yanked you back towards him, firm fingers curling around your wrist like a ship finally mooring to land. He swallowed your surprised yelp with a kiss, devouring your gasps as if the two of you weren't standing under caramel-slicked air and a parade of balloons and shrieks.

“Quit jokin’ about kissing someone else, sweetheart,” he rasped against your lips, fingers resolute where they squeezed around your hip. “Lest you're lookin’ to see me die of a heart attack.”

Your smile bloomed. “Then why don't you kiss me some more, Buck?”

He was more than happy to oblige.

His lips found yours again, slower this time, savoring every second as if he were living on borrowed time. The world around you faded away into an abstract background, centering you in the moment, where everything you yearned and cared for was the hint of sugar you could taste on your boyfriend's lips.

When the two of you parted for the second time, Bucky studied your face as though memorizing a miracle right before his very eyes. It made something stir in the depth of your chest.

“Got you something,” Bucky admitted, excitement and joy spilling out of his skin.

You waited patiently as he reached into his pocket, pulling out an eyeglass case that made your eyebrows pinch in wonder—since when did he wear glasses? But before you could ask, Bucky was already opening the lid, and the view of its content managed to coax a gasp of awe from somewhere within your ribs.

“Bucky, this is amazing.”

You picked up the tiny arrangement between your pointer and middle fingers, admiring the way the flowers were bound together into a miniscule bouquet. They were tethered to one another by a string of stem and twine, a thread of nature and mankind, existing side by side in an eternal waltz that fate had bestowed upon them.

Your chest tapered, bringing the tiny bouquet closer to your heart as you captured the giddy blue of Bucky’s eyes. “You made this yourself?”

“I did.” Bucky nodded, his chest inflating in a pale delight. “Well, Becca helped. Who could've guessed that tying a yarn around flower stems required nimble fingers, huh?”

You laughed along, concealing the way your insides were melting into a puddle as if this weren't the nicest gesture anyone had ever done for you.

“Ma gave me an earful when she saw me in the garden, dirt on my hands and knees, lookin’ for fallen blossoms. Said I'd better get some proper flowers for my girl if I didn't want her runnin’ off with another fella.” Bucky chuckled. “But I told her this was more special. After all, these buds ain't wilted yet, which means—”

“They still got love to give,” you whispered, void of air and yet brimming with boisterous affection. You kissed his chin and rewarded him a grin. “You know who else got love to give, Buck?” 

Bucky laughed, that rare, beautiful sound that always seemed too big for the world to hold. He cupped your cheek like he was holding a precious porcelain, leaning closer until your foreheads rested against one another.

"Yeah, sweetheart." He breathed, nudging his nose to yours. "I sure as hell do.”

“Mission report,” a voice commanded.

In the center of the room, the Soldat sat on a throne made of metal and terror. A cushion designed not for rest, but for bearing witness to the drips of blood pooling beneath restraint-bound limbs. Other soldiers stood all around the room, their cowardice louder than their breathing, their backs refusing to peel from the walls as if it could absolve them of their complicity.

The quiet stretched.

Out of the shadows, the tall, fiendish man emerged, carrying the kind of cruelty that even hell would cower from. He examined the Soldat and raised his eyebrows, noting down the asset's lack of response—an observation for later, an error to repair as if the Soldat had been a mere machine instead of a living soul.

The man stepped closer, repeating himself with a bellowing voice that would beckon the dead from their graves, “Mission report, Soldat.”

Still no answer.

The tension sweltered.

“What's wrong with him?” another man chimed in.

The first one shook his head, his mind already gearing, going through the motions on how he could pick apart and assemble the Soldat into something new, something better. But before he could jot down the evil plan on his notepad, his gaze slid downward, spotting the defensive curl of the Soldat's flesh fist hidden partly by his right thigh.

“There is something in his hand.”

The second man sprung into action, approaching the chair and demanding the frozen man on it to unclench his fingers, now. But the Soldat didn't move, not even a single indication to acknowledge the receival of the command. Even when the smack thundered across his cheek, the Soldat continued to stand his ground, a show of defiance through the very last thing he could still afford.

“Soldat.” The first man attempted again, a cold edge coursing through his words. “Give us what's in your hand before we put you back in the cryo.”

The Soldat didn't say anything, but his fingers flexed—just a tiny bit—though it was enough to help the second man pry the mysterious object out of the Soldat's hand.

“What is it?” the first man asked, a hint of impatience leaking through his practiced image.

“It's, uh… It's…” the second man stammered. 

He turned his palm around, confusion palpable in his eyes as he showed his colleague the mysterious object that the Soldat had guarded with more ferocity than any weapon they’d ever placed in his hands.

A slightly crumpled yellow daffodil.

“It's a flower?” the first man nearly roared. “It was just a fucking wilted flower?”

“It's not wilted.”

The room fell into an instantaneous hush. Every pair of eyes inside ambled towards the center of the room, towards the assassin who had just decided to break his silence over the trivial matter of flowers.

The first man turned towards the Soldat with a menacing stare, his eyes a pair of blades as he stepped closer towards the seat of torture, studying the Soldat who was still sitting stiffly as if awaiting the next round of nightmares. But beneath the blue eyes, usually steely and cold, something else had clawed its way through—something fiery and reckless, something akin to humanity.

The first man sneered, turning to the entire room to bark his orders, “Wipe him. And put him in the ice until further notice.”

People moved in a flurry of limbs as soon as the instruction had settled. Amidst the havoc, everybody failed to notice the silent tick of the Soldat's jaw, the scintillating shift of his pupils as unsolicited hands forced him back against the chair, strapping his entire body with restraints that felt more like burning coals against an expanse of skin.

The Soldat kept his eyes trained on the drab surface of the ceiling, bracing himself for the pain to come, for the same searing agony that had muddled his brain far too many times to count. He wouldn't remember much afterwards—wouldn't remember how desperately he kept wishing for death in those horrifying moments—but he would certainly remember the fear. Thrumming under his skin like lightning against a drowning man's ribs.

At the first descent of the machine upon each side of his head, the Soldat suddenly heard it—the voice. 

The one who wasn't his own but sounded like a missing piece of his soul.

The one who always appeared in times when he needed an anchor and something to hold.

The one who had told him to pick up the daffodil while he was on the field.

“Take it,” the voice had adjured. “Take the flower. It's not wilted yet, it has simply just fallen.”

So he did.

And right now, the voice was returning once more, only this time, it didn't come alone.

It came with flashes—images.

An image of laughter and smiles, of promises and dreams. An image of two bodies tangled beneath the sheets, spent breaths and a humming pleasure rushing through bloodstreams.

It came with an image of you.

“It's gonna be alright,” you told him, so gentle and kind that he almost believed it. “Everything's gonna be alright, honey. I'm right here with you.”

The machine awakened with an ominous snarl, triggering a low whine inside his skull, rising gradually until it split the edges of his mind apart. He tried to hold onto something, anything, but there was nothing left inside him except for scraps of bones and a heart mangled beyond any devastation the world could ever imagine.

He was no one. 

No name. No face. No soul. 

Just a body, wired and broken, as mechanical as the chair he sat upon.

As good as wilted.

“You're not wilted.”

The Soldat blinked.

“You've merely fallen, honey,” you assured, smiling so sweetly he could almost taste it on his tongue. “Fallen things aren't wilted. And fallen things—oh, sweetheart—they still have so much more love to give.”

“You dropped one, Sarah.”

Bucky bent down to pick up the flower on the floor, the one that had fatedly fallen from the bouquet of fragrance and colors that Sam's sister was currently moving to a clear vase. The petals fluttered like silk on the skin of Bucky's palm, and his knees nearly gave out from underneath him when he finally took a proper look at the blossom in his grasp.

A yellow daffodil.

“Just throw it away, Buck,” Sarah said from her place in the kitchen. She crumpled the parchment wrapper of the bouquet before throwing it into the bin, the arrangement of flowers now sitting proudly on the kitchen counter. “It's been on the ground, anyway.”

“Just ‘cause it's fallen, doesn't mean it's wilted yet.” Bucky sauntered towards the kitchen, stopping to position the bud amidst the array of petals and stems. “They still got a whole lot of love left to give, you know?”

Sarah's eyebrows rose.

Before she could comment on Bucky's surprising sentiment, Sam came striding into the house, his dark eyes immediately zeroing on the two people standing by the kitchen counter.

“What's this?” Sam asked, suspicion dripping from his voice. “Yo, man, I told you to stop flirting with my sis.”

“Nobody's flirting, Sam. We were just talking,” Bucky clarified. Then, just to ruffle Sam’s feathers, the super soldier flicked his gaze towards Sarah, tilting his lips in the way he used to do when he wanted to coax something out of you. “Right, Sarah?”

The woman giggled, and Bucky could almost beam in satisfaction at the imaginary smoke coming out of Sam's ears.

“He was just helping me, Sam,” Sarah told him. “One of the flowers fell, so he returned it to me.”

“Nuh uh. I don't believe that's all there is. That must be him tryna make a move. That was you making a move, isn't it?” Sam demanded, his gaze jerking aggressively between his sister and a smug Bucky. “What'd he tell you? Whatever it was, don't listen to it. Don't believe him. It's just a bunch of bullshit.”

“God, Sam, he didn't say anything.” Sarah rolled her eyes. “He just told me something about flowers. About how they aren't wilted if they fell, and… what was it again, Buck?”

The man tensed.

Bucky regained his composure in the blink of an eye, keeping the other two oblivious to the surge of turmoil that the simple question had sent. Keeping them in the dark about the way Bucky's heart had stumbled at the mere memory of your smile flaring across his mind and straight into his soul.

“It was nothing,” Bucky said. “Just a silly saying.”

“Oh, right!” Sarah snapped her fingers. “Fallen flowers still have lots of love to give.” She smiled proudly, eyes flickering towards Bucky with conspicuous excitement. “Was I right?”

Bucky's jaw clenched.

“The hell is that supposed to mean?” Sam questioned, his forehead knitting, vexation melting into incredulity. “That your game, Buck? Sounds lousy as hell.”

Bucky sighed. “Sam…”

“Did that kinda thing really work in the forties? ‘Cause damn, I could've been a real ladies man back then. Would've been so easy if all it took was one lame shit about flowers, and—hey, where you goin’?”

“Getting the hell away from you!”

Bucky heard Sam's laughter echoing from behind him, mocking and unaware of the wound in the former's chest that was beginning to crack and bleed all over the floor. The sound of your voice lingered in Bucky's mind, a ghost only he could hear, a cursed rapture that broke him apart at the seams before stitching him together all at once.

Before Bucky could exit the house, Sam's voice erupted again, “Hey! At least tell us how you got the idea for such a cheesy saying!”

“I didn't.” Bucky's grip contracted around the front door's handle, a shaky smile stretching his lips before he caught Sam's gaze from the distance. “Someone taught it to me. A long time ago.”

[lukolathoughts]

Women's rights

(trigger warning. Also, please be kind as I discuss some personal issues. I will block all negative comments, but I welcome opinions.)

Hi everyone, hope you are all doing well. I knew last night was going to be rough. It happens whenever I write a blog post. As soon as I saw that story from Jake yesterday thanking Aimee - Nic's stylist for her help, I knew he would at the Bafta party. What I didn't expect was that Nicola would pose on the red carpet with him for staged and awkward looking photos. I did a double take in astonishment at his white trainers paired with a ill fitting suit, that did not match Nicola's outfit. The photos were stiff and awkward, Nicola forcing a smile of adoration and Jake rarely looking at her. It screamed PR and FAKE FAKE FAKE. This is not us Lukola's being in denial, this just simply what we see with our own eyes.

The question I posed in yesterdays blog titled - 'The crazy woman in the attic' was, what is in the attic exactly? What on earth is going on that Nicola and Luke need to go to these kind of extremes? What secret are they protecting? This cannot be the solution. Nicola, I hope your team sends you this and I will try and be as kind and gracious as possible with my opinions. Also, remember readers these are my opinions. Jakeholes, just block me and move on. As I have said, this is not the place for you.

I am going to go into a bit of personal information about me just to give you some context. I grew up in a extremely unsettled home. My father was physically violent to my mother and I witnessed a lot. I struggled with not being able to save her. I still carry this guilt to this day, and I have never been able to forgive my dad. We left when I was nine, but by that time I had seen a lot. I met my ex when I was 19 and that turned into an emotionally abusive relationship, made all the more harder as I was living with him abroad. When I came home, I was an absolute wreck and I needed that time to heal and be on my own, with support from my family and friends. I was then very lucky to meet my own Colin Bridgerton and that is where we are today. One of the habits I developed as a child to cope and hide I suppose was to watch my television shows. I love my TV shows and movies. It just settles me and I can escape for a few hours. It's no real surprise to me that I adore Bridgerton.

OK, ZG, what does this have to do with Nic? Well, I do love a strong female character and I adore Penelope and I have admiration for Nicola and all she believes in. She is a role model to me. However, the biggest role model in my life other than Buffy, is obviously my mum. She worries me to death that woman and is a Capricorn also, incidentally she is now married to an Aquarius. Stubborn as a mule, but a heart of gold, my mum. I keep going back mentally to wishing I could have done something as a child to help her. As most of you know, I'm a teacher. At the moment, I am working on a project to get young parents back into work or education in deprived areas by improving their literacy, numeracy and other skills. I have loved this project and helping these women has been fantastic. Without saying too much, some of these women have dealt with the worst kinds of abuse I have ever seen or heard. Coercive control is much more prevalent now amongst abusers. I am an empath as well, so I take a lot of this emotion home with me and I guess the fandom and Nicola and Luke have helped me channel this elsewhere and allow me to escape.

I have known gay men my whole life. My first cousin was always very open about his sexuality, even before we understood what it meant. It was just the way he was. I had a gay BFF in primary school, college and all through my twenties I mixed with the albeit minimal gay scene where I live. I have not had much experience with the trans community, I'll be honest, other than visiting the gay bars in Swansea and Cardiff with my friend S. I just don't have the same emotional connection to the trans community as Nicola does. I support rights of women. I shouldn't feel guilty for saying that loud. I fight for their right to work and education and for making a better world for their children. I fight for my own children. I write what I write as a mother myself and especially a mother to a daughter.

One of the most upsetting things in the last few years was the Manchester Bombing. On 22 May 2017, following a concert by the American pop singer Ariana Grande. Perpetrated by Islamic extremist Salman Abedi and aided by his brother, Hashem Abedi, the bombing occurred at 22:31 and killed 22 people. Most of these victims were young women and girls. The murder of Sarah Everard by police officer Wayne Couzen's in 2021 was one of the most sickening cases I had ever read and the media tried to blame Sarah for her own murder for daring to walk home alone at night. Last summer, in Southport, a mad man broke into a little girls dance studio at a Taylor Swift themed dance class and knifed to death three little girls and stabbed countless others. Kyle Clifford, broke into his ex girlfriends house and killed her, her sister and her mother with a crossbow last year also.

These are the kind of stories that keep me awake at night, not whether trans women are allowed to use the women's toilets or not and whatever else. I don't want men in our spaces and I don't think they should be. But, I give Nicola some grace, because she is raising money for a cause she believes in it. I will not begrudge her that. What I do begrudge her for is after successfully raising so much money, she then proceeds to counteract everything she was campaigning for by walking Jake Dunn down the red carpet and presenting him to the media as her 'boyfriend'. To me, this is deeply hypocritical. Jake is known to the industry as a queer actor. Jake is starring in an upcoming BBC drama about trans rights where he plays a queer role. All this has done is upset her fans and enrage the LGBTQ community. Jake's stylist Miller Mode posted a very interesting story post today saying he was a stylist for queers, weirds and beards. How fascinating is that? How many more of these posts will we see and how many of the community will start to turn their backs on Nicola and Jake? Miller mode also refers to Jake as a 'princess' and 'she'.

Jake is also doing press for his show today What it feels like for a girl and he's back on Instagram today promoting trans rights as if last night didn't happen. Maybe he and Nic wish it didn't. She has been eerily silent today so far and I'm sorry but Nic, you made your bed, now you must lie in it. That carriage scene is iconic and partly because Luke was so magnificent in delivering his love declaration. The scene is magic, with chemistry like no other. Luke should have been there last night. I find it fascinating that we have yet to see Jake and Luke interact. I think it is glaringly obvious why, gentle reader. Luke can't lie to save his life. He'd be too busy glaring daggers at Jake, and Jake in turn would be salivating over Luke. It would be hilarious and frankly, I would love to see it. I find the candid photo of Jake eyeing up the hot Love Island contestant last night poetic justice and there is the truth right there. But yet we are still vilified on SM for suggesting Jake is gay and not at all interested in Nicola. This has nothing to do with Nicola, by the way. If I was with Nic, I probably would never stop smiling, but Jake can't bring himself to do it. It's not because she's unattractive, it's because she's literally not his type. Period. She is a woman.

I will continue to stand up for women, including Nicola, but lovely you gotta throw me a bone here. You want your fans to hang around and cheer for you? Then don't repeatedly slap us in the face and undermine our intelligence. Be honest and tell us what you and Luke are hiding in that damn attic, because it isn't Jake Dunn, he's out and proud.

[izzih22]

ok so i got a fic idea: yk how azzis is like geno's fav and their ppls princess? like so basically i saw some comments somewhere saying she was like only featured that much cus shes genos fav and friends ( or more) with paige... (which like not true🙄 have u literally seen this girl shoot?!???) buttt can u maybe write a fic where like azzi read something like that and gets sad and insecure and paige comforts her

Earned

Note: sorry it’s a little short

Azzi Fudd is everyone’s favorite. Except, apparently, when she’s not.

The locker room had mostly cleared out after practice, laughter fading down the hallway. Azzi stayed behind, half-laced sneakers still digging into the mat, phone in her hand like it had fused there.

She shouldn’t have looked. She knew better than to check the comments under the latest team highlight post. But there it was, anyway. Bright and cruel on the screen, buried under a hundred heart emojis and fire reacts:

“She’s only getting minutes because she’s Geno’s fav lol”

“Let’s be real, if she wasn’t besties (or whatever) with Paige, she wouldn’t get half the attention.”

“Overrated. Pretty face and connections. Not game.”

Azzi’s fingers locked around the phone until her knuckles went white. She blinked hard, like that would wash it away. She could shoot until her legs gave out, put in more hours than anyone — it still didn’t matter to some people. To strangers who didn’t know a damn thing about what it cost her just to stay upright some days.

She didn’t even hear Paige come back in until the bench creaked beside her.

“You forgot your jersey, babe,” Paige said casually, tossing them in Azzi’s lap. “And your water bottle. And your soul, apparently.”

Azzi didn’t laugh. Didn’t even look up.

It took Paige about two seconds to clock the vibe shift. “Hey.” Her voice softened. “What happened?”

Azzi shook her head. “Nothing. Just tired.”

“Try again.”

When she didn’t answer, Paige leaned over and gently pried the phone out of her hand. Azzi didn’t fight it.

Paige didn’t need to scroll far to see it. Her jaw tensed. That familiar fire lit behind her eyes — the one she saved for game time and anyone dumb enough to mess with someone she loved.

“Who the hell—” Paige cut herself off, breathing hard through her nose. “You know this is bullshit, right?”

Azzi shrugged.

“Azzi. Look at me.”

Azzi did. Slowly. And Paige swore under her breath at the tears pooling just behind her eyes.

“You work harder than anyone. You play through more pain than anyone. You earn every damn second on that court.”

“It doesn’t feel like it,” Azzi whispered. “Sometimes it just feels like people think I’m only here because I’m… nice. Or pretty. Or… with you.”

Paige’s face crumpled just slightly at that. “That’s not true. That’s so far from true.”

Azzi looked away again, but Paige caught her chin and tilted it back. Gentle. Steady.

“Listen to me,” she said, low and intense now. “You’re not here because of Geno. Or me. Or because fans think you’re sweet. You’re here because you are the best shooter in the country, and you’ve earned every headline. Every minute. Every damn point. No one gave you anything.”

Azzi blinked fast, but the tears slipped out anyway. Paige caught one with her thumb, her hand still cupping her jaw.

“And for the record?” Paige added, quieter. “Even if I wasn’t in love with you, I’d still lose my mind every time you hit a three.”

Azzi let out a wet, half-laugh. “That was cheesy.”

“Yeah, well, you’re dating a simp. Deal with it.”

Azzi leaned forward, forehead pressed against Paige’s shoulder, finally letting herself exhale. Paige wrapped her up like she always did — strong, grounding, warm. No spotlight, no cameras. Just them. Where everything was earned. And everything was real.

[nottsstar]

SUNDRESS. theodore nott 𓍢ִ smut 18+ MDNI

THE MALFOY MANOR was a perfect place for pool parties. Though it was dull and dark, the pool area (let’s pretend there is one) was perfect for a small party. I mean, Mr and Mrs malfoy probably didn’t even mind. Well, that’s what Draco told everyone.

The day was perfect for some pool fun. The weather was nice with no clouds covering the bright sun. The whole group, including Theo was invited for the holidays as vacation to the Malfoys. Nobody swam today. Not even Pansy and Blaise were swimming today. They all planning do sunbathing under the scorching heat.

Though, right now everybody was inside. Except for you and Theo. You both weren’t friends-friends. Just friends of friends. But sometimes you both talked. Theo had found interest in you somewhat. He thought you looked gorgeous. With your sharp features and body, you could captivate anyone. Even Theodore Nott.

But you? Oh boy, you had a major crush on him. And throughout the whole vacation you had been ogling at him. Though that was a huge secret. Not even Pansy knew this crush of yours. And she knew almost everything about you. The only person or more rather thing which knew was your diary. It would always star with a ‘dear diary...’ and end with a small ‘<3’. It had been your secret since the first time you saw him. If staring at Nott was a job, you’d be rich enough to by at least six whole planets already.

All you did not know, was that Nott had found one of your ripped pages. The most important one yet. The one that was ao secret you were planning on throwing it away. Though, that never happened because the next moment you opened your dear diary, the paper was nowhere to be found. You assumed you must have already threw it away somewhere. But nope, Theo had gotten to it before the dustbin. And he was pretty surprised with it too. Exactly how you would be when you found out he had seen it.

dear diary . . .

oh goodness gracious god, did Theo look great today. He had a white button up on. I could ogle at him for days, weeks, months, even years. And guess what? He talked to me today! He asked me if I was enjoying my stay. And I obviously said yes. Though, what I really wanted to say was more than that. His hair was a little bit more disheveled today. Oh how I wanted to smooth it out with my own fingers. Okay, back to his white button up. Do you know how hot it made him look? Sexy even. His chest was practically seeping through. I could see it so well. I almost melted. I wonder how they’d feel under my touch and...maybe I shouldn’t write the remaining

<3

and that’s all that was wrote on the ripped piece of paper to Theo’s dismay. Some bits were missing though, the parts he needed to know were there. And you wouldn’t believe it but—

Today, theo was wearing his normal pool outfit. A buttoned one with a normal striped yellow and blue pattern. His shirt is fully unbuttoned though, revealing his chiseled chest bare and exposed. Exposed to your eyes. You had been staring at him all day. All day, you swore. And he was honestly no better than you.

You had been wearing your sundress today. Your sundress that came up to your mid thighs. And funny enough, you aren’t wearing any underwear either. And the dress exposed a good amount of neck too. With black sunglasses on, there’s more you can do than protecting your eyes, theo had managed to stare at you or rather your legs without you noticing. They were exposed. Fully on display. And he could stare at them for hours. You’d probably melt if you knew that.

And currently, you were bouncing on his dick. It’s just how it went. Believe it or not, his hands were on your thighs as you rode him. You were moaning out his name while he was moaning out absolutely nothing. What were the risks of getting caught? You both could care less. I mean, if you both were caught it would be bad and awkward but right now your minds were circling with emotions.

“you’ve wanted this for so long huh? Bet you’re gonna write about this in your diary too.” he manages to say through all the pleasure. Your face flushed an even deeper red at that, if that’s even possible.

“oh shut up.”

“that’s no fair, you don’t shut up about me in your diary.”

You groan at that, scowling at him. He smirks seeing your expression. He’s enjoying giving you pleasure and getting you all pissed at him. He knows the pissed expression will go in no time.

His hands that were on your hips shift to your shoulders, he lowers you down with almost a feather light touch. He chuckles to himself. As you lower down to meet his face with yours, his dick twitches inside of you. Causing you to let out a sof whimper, to Theo’s pleasure of course.

With a bold move he captures your lips with his, locking them in. Your hands are now tangled in his soft brown hair. And he doesn’t pay any attention to it until you tug on it. He lets out a shaky groan into your mouth. His tongue licks your bottom lip as in asking for access to your mouth. And you let him, already in his game. If you’re in, you can’t out. His tongue explores your mouth inch to inch. He even lets out a small ‘mm’ for some reason. Of course, withyour brain fogged you don’t know why.

Once he lets go of your mouth, you go back to your original position. Which is straddling him with his cock buried deep in you. Your hands almost automatically fly tp his chest, stabling yourself. Like you wrote in your diary, his hard abs felt great under your touch. You wanted to skim your hands over them. But there was just no time in this pleasure to it. Maybe next time? Definitely next time. His hands are now on your hips as before, gripping them enough to leave two red handprints. You don’t mind though. Did you? Nah.

“oh fuck Theo...‘m gonna...” no more words come out your mouth before you’re spilling all over his thick cock. You get up from it, still dripping in what not. Though, you’re still on him. His cock is now arched towards your chest as he runs his hand up and down, closer and closer to his release. And it’s not long before thick ropes of cum shoot at your chest, splattering all over your tits covered by your sundress.

“hope you got what you wanted cara mia.”

And that’s the last thing he said before he ordered me toget up. And I obviously did. Hopefully this isn’t the end just yet. But can you believe it? I had sex with him near the pool while there were ninety nine percent chance we’d get caught! I enjoyed it though...

<3

reblogs and feedback are always appreciated!

wc: 1184 😦

(What the hell? I dunno how this turned into a fic. Help.)