#ironically: Relationship goals!
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stromuprisahat · 2 months ago
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I love your takes on the grishaverse so I was wondering what you thoughts was on the theory/headcanon that Alina didn’t really lose her powers but unknowingly locked them as she did before the books’ beginning? Maybe there was a period where she couldn’t summon light bcs she was too exhausted and stressed out by the whole ‘final battle’ thing – banishing thee Fold, Mal’s ‘death’, Darkling’s death – so she assumed she had lost it. And then it was easier to unknowingly continue like that bcs it allowed her to remove herself from ruling and making any decisions and just have her simple co-depended life with Mal as she always wanted.
Personally, I don’t think that’s what happened in canon (certainly not what Bardugo meant) but I find it feasible as fanon interpretation, considering how depressed and deluded Alina appears post-RAR.
I'm more leaning into the explanation, that she intentionally, yet subconsciously rid herself of them (and maybe revived Malyen, when we're at it, since the second life bullshit is just that- bullshit that doesn't make sense, since no other amplifier's running around the same way. But then again- I'm very skeptical, when it comes to Malyen actually being one- he has no properties others do.).
Alina recognizes that as long as she's Grisha, she won't be able to be only with Malyen, and she already admitted she's trying to mould herself into whatever he seems to want from her.
Merzost doesn't seem to be random- it's driven by intention. Ilya "upgraded" mythical animals to have certain properties, Aleksander fucked up first, but then managed to find a way to actively protect his people, when in situation his powers weren't enough. Alina lost what made her special, but since her goal wasn't finished yet, other Sun Summoners sprang into existence and fucked up destruction of the Fold, because it's merzost-made, therefore logic tells us ordinary Small Science shouldn't be enough to vanquish it.
It's true the previous time Alina worked with merzost, her powers "disappeared" for a while, but the "magic" also isn't working from nothing. No matter what we're told, there is a cost, some input. It's not "pure creation". We can see it, when Sasha makes nichevo'ya- he's using his own essence, his life force or whatever want you to call it, to draw them into existence, so Alina would need ~something~ to distribute her powers among others, and the amplifiers are just that- they amplify, wider one's range, not give a new ability.
Besides- there's the question of what grandpa Ilya wanted. If he aimed at Grisha being accepted, instead of othered, why would he take away from one the give to more. It might look pragmatic, but the range is too limited and even if he created such "tools" over and over- he'd only make a new caste of "once-Grisha", instead of levelling the playing field.
One of my fellow fans also pointed out that if merzost is magic, perhaps Alina used it to become an ordinary otkazat'sya. I don't believe so. She might've made herself to appear as one, but after all those books spent reading how is being Grisha integral part of their being, something that makes them themselves... looking at post R&R Chapter 17 Alina isn't looking at slightly more traumatized Alina that can't summon the Light because it's not a part of her. It's looking at a husk of the girl, just like the ends of previous books, when she was suffering due to missing her powers on physical level.
And her lack of skill, when using merzost previous time would support it. She locked away her powers and her hair went white the first time. She got rid of her Light, but her body "remembers" it's missing something.
edit: Also- thank you for (positive) feedback, I'm not being rude, I'm just an social idiot with totally not ADHD, so I get focused on "the point", and forget the social stuff like greeting and replying to nice words, which ARE very motivating for me, but HERE'S THE STUFF I'm thinking about and my brain's coming up with coherent answers- LOOK!
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teethbomb · 1 year ago
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alador blight fan mood board
#Im trying so hard not to engage I feel like a bomb#I know his arc was handled badly but the shortening of the owl house should be the give away#And I personally think that the boards weren’t only cut for time!!#People are really mad he was redeemed at all but I think we forget that this guy was intended to portray a victim of abuse#Abuse shouldn’t have to be physical for it mean something#No I am not excusing what he did what he did was shitty but what I am saying is I don’t think he knew that#He thought what he was doing was in the kids best interest and when amity confronted him his eyes opened#I’ve seen people call him spineless and “woobified” and that is lost on me entirely#He stood up to Odalia and broke everything when he found out about her goals#He still has his temper he’s just not lashing out on his kids#Claims of him being turned soft don’t make sense to me because he’s been chasing butterflies the whole time! He was under Odalia s thumb#Until he learned it was hurting his kids and he stood up.#His arc isn’t perfect it’s far from it but the guy was in an abusive relationship for most of his life#I Can see the disconnect some are having but I think we’re really focusing too hard on some cut scenes#I Can see people getting upset with him especially those who relate to amity but I think it’s ironically pushing blame#Not everything can be pinned on Odalia but I think we should let abuse victims grow no matter their age#I guess it just makes me sad to see a character I see so much of myself in being dragged like this lol#Alador blight
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gryphonablaze · 2 years ago
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The rwby food fight is better than the average mcu fight
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indiaalphawhiskey · 6 months ago
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I’m so sorry, but Colin and Penelope painstakingly learning to love every. single. part. of each other — especially the parts that are vindictive, and petty, and jealous, and angry — in such a delicate and early (!!!) point in their romantic relationship does such a supreme justice to their love story that I can never, never wish the Whistledown plot was diminished. (Benedict and Francesca subplot, absolutely. Whistledown, no.)
Because really, how fucking romantic is it, that they both go into their marriage willingly, with their eyes wide open and only their trust in each other that this will all be okay, somehow, to hold onto?
It’s so beautifully ironic that the two greenest, most naïve, most “puppy love” of all the Bridgerton couples actually has the most mature depiction of a deep relationship and connection in the show; that it was through them that they managed to highlight how love is always a choice. It’s such a fantastic juxtaposition, especially for two characters who “have never been taken seriously”.
As they say, the goal is to laugh forever with someone you take seriously. Oh, my sweet, sweet Polin. 🩵
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hackzenyvx · 2 years ago
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It be gettin harder and harder to explain each day how u be feelin some type of way from bullying ur crush/best friend (s) and vice versa. unironically gettin flutters in ur heart and stuff
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dead-end-draws · 10 months ago
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Tribe Banner concept art:
Folks seemed to enjoy my WOF WIPS, so here’s more concept art for y’all! My favorite thing about WOF is the potential for world building. I thought it’d be cool to see a tribe emblem represented on a banner/flag of sorts:
Read below for some of the thought process / headcannons behind the design choices: 👇
Skywing Banner:
Skywings pride themselves on 3 things; treasure, fire, & their enormous, soaring wingspan which steals the sky.
As such, portrayed on the banner, the fabric (often made with dyed cow or goat leathers) resembles draped dragon wings. Two Skywings embrace a goblet, which is spewing golden fire.
The banner is often held aloft with iron or gold poles, signifying to other tribes their wealth and pride.
Mudwing banner:
These banners are fashioned with leather hides from cow or crocodile skin, held aloft with bamboo, and painted with a Talon-print & Reed crest.
The talonprint symbolizes community and the strength of Mudwing sibling bonds. The reed border unifies all Mudwings regardless of their relationship to home; the swamp. Bigwings are often seen carrying these into battle, signifing their status and making it easier for a sib to locate them in the flurry of a fight.
Sandwing Banner:
Sandwing flags are made with camel skins and dyed cactus leather.
A crest shows a Sandwing coiled around a beaming sun, a reminder that despite the revered 3 moons, Sandwings are born to thrive in sunlight.
The fabric is cut in a way to mimic the swooping dunes of Sandwing territory. And the poles of the flags are equally intricate, with scorpion tails and golden ropes which frame the banner.
These flags make prominent appearances in parades, festivals, and markets, and even miniature version are often displayed in homes or as tapestries/carpets.
Seawing banner:
These banners are often seen displayed in royal quarters or councils, or above land to mark territory.
A nautilus shell crest on front echoes the swirl-pattern associated with royal Seawings: The banner’s borders resemble waves and a dragon swimming beneath their surface.
These are crafted with rich materials, strung with seashells, pearls, silver dollars, and deep oceanic color fabric. There is severe penalty for Seawings found plucking treasure from the banners, as they are a direct symbol of royalty.
Nightwing Banner:
These banners emphasize the Nightwings’ relationship to the moon, their source of power and praise. The material, a contrast of white stitching against purple velvet showcases moonlight and night, black scales against stars, magic and mystery.
They are seen decorated with 3 moons at the top and a centered dragon reaching up into the night sky.
These banners were often used during the war as secret code by spies to deliver to other tribes. Prophecy scrolls often came attached, delivering cryptic messages or secrets in the night. These banners all helped add to the secrecy of the Dragonet Prophecy, and kept tribes on their toes around Nightwings.
Rainwing banner:
Rainwing banners are not used for battle purposes like other tribes, most are mere decoration, location indicators, and have no unified design.
However, It is said back when Rainwings left the rainforest to trade pre-war, this particular banner design was often raised above Rainwing merchant tables, and showcases the coiled tail of a Rainwing with leaves, vines, and other sights from the rainforest adorning a bamboo pole. Bright color combinations accentuated the flag to entice curious customers.
Now, only one tattered version of the original Rainwing banner remains, displayed proudly in Queen Glory’s quarters, a reminder that building the Rainwings’ community is their most important goal.
Icewing Banner:
These banners reflect the same standards Icewings hold themselves to.
Like a visual of the rankings themselves, each banner is cut perfectly from an Icewing’s trained, serrated claws to resemble icicles, and crafted with fine blue stitching.
Flags are often held aloft with perfectly polished narwhal horn or bone, and can be inlaid with sapphires or diamond.
Icewing soldiers are often gifted these during ceremonies, and perform training exercises with the flags to test their stance/attentiveness. The crest showcases the swift sharpness of ice through a flying dragon, and a snowflake toward the bottom reminding Icewings that even minuscule snowflakes, small things, should be perfect in form.
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dicipher · 1 month ago
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I think an interesting idea- considering some people argue that there isn't much romance in homicipher, is that this game IS full of love, just not traditional kinds. Variety! Woo!
"Unconditional love, simply put, is love without strings attached. It's love you offer freely. You don't base it on what someone does for you in return. You simply love them and want nothing more than their happiness."
"Someone is said to be suffering from delusional love disorder when they feel that that their feelings of love are reciprocated, despite glaring evidence of this being not true. People with delusional love disorder often feel that other people are in love with them."
"A love-hate relationship means that you hold both positive and negative feelings toward something. In the case of relationships, a person with a love-hate relationship with their partner both loves and hates something(s) about said relationship. These feelings can be both simultaneous or alternating — someone might go from loving to hating their partner very quickly, or experience a complicated mix of both at all times."
"One-sided love, also known as unrequited love, occurs when one person has romantic feelings for another who does not reciprocate those feelings. This situation can arise in various contexts, including friendships, crushes, or even long-term relationships where one partner may not feel the same way." (Note: this refers to the player's love, not his)
"Caring, on the other hand, can be seen as a broader concept that encompasses concern, empathy, and a willingness to support and help someone. While love is often seen as a more intense and emotional state, caring can be a more practical and action-oriented expression of concern for someone's welfare." (Note: custodial as in, in charge of someone. Like a caretaker, parent, etc)
"Ludus is playful, noncommittal love. Ludus covers things like flirting, seduction, and casual sex. Ludus means “play” or “game” in Latin, and that pretty much explains what ludus is: love as a game. When it comes to ludus, a person is not looking for a committed relationship."
"Conditional love is often characterized by the idea that affection and support are given based on specific conditions being met (eg, behavior, achievements, or circumstances)." (Note: Gap's love is ironically, transactional)
"Platonic love is a type of love in which sexual desire or romantic features are nonexistent or have been suppressed, sublimated, or purgated, but it means more than simple friendship" (extra: "Self-love is a state of appreciation for oneself that grows from actions that support our physical, psychological and spiritual growth. Self-love means having a high regard for your own well-being and happiness. Self-love means taking care of your own needs and not sacrificing your well-being to please others."
"Childish/child-like love is blind. It buys love and doesn't hesitate to manipulate in order to do so. Childish love tends to control and hang onto and therefore doesn't set us or the people we love free." "Selfish love in a relationship is when one prioritizes their own desires and needs over their partner's. It often involves manipulating or expecting the relationship to cater primarily to one's own comfort and goals."
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ahundredtimesover · 10 months ago
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I Want You to Stay (09) | JJK
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Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader
Genre/Tags: boss!JK x assistant!reader; idiot strangers to lovers; slow slow burn; k-drama feels; angst, drama, fluff, smut
Chapter (Series) Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, unhealthy coping mechanisms; family drama; minor injuries; power dynamics (JK starts off as a jerk); work-related anxiety, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; childhood traumatic experiences, nightmares; sexual harassment, attempted assault; use of the term slut in a derogatory way, prior incidence of domestic violence (PLS PLS BE CAREFUL WHEN READING); arts and business/property devt talk that’s probably inaccurate; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters; cold and detached JK; eventual explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter) (18+)
Chapter Word count: 18.4k
Series Masterlist
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Status: Ongoing
Series summary: Working for Jungkook isn’t the same as working for Hoseok. For starters, Jungkook doesn’t smile, he doesn’t appreciate you, and he gives you too much work. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly handsome and has women at his beck and call. But as the tension grows, it becomes impossible to resist him. You’ve dedicated yourself to your job for 8 years so when you finally decide to put yourself first, he asks you to reconsider. And while you know that leaving is difficult, you learn that when it comes to Jungkook, staying is always so much harder.
Playlist 🎶: on the way home
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A/N: Hiii thank you for being patient, and again for all your love and appreciation for this story. 🥰 Updates will continue to take longer as I return to uni. On another note, I hope you enjoy this!
And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight  🥰
PS. If I can’t tag you, pls fix your settings!
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Seeing you standing in his kitchen donned in that pastel-colored blouse makes Jungkook stop in his tracks; you’re exactly who he needs to wake him up. 
It’s been weeks of vacation, which also means weeks without his usual routine. It’s striking how being absorbed in his work has altered him in that sense - he looks for the stress, for the long hours, for the isolation that’s demanded of his job. Perhaps there was just really nothing to look forward to, and work was an excuse for all those things because there wasn’t much else going for him. Ironic, considering everything he can do with what he has, yet nothing seems to be what he’s looking for, even if deep down, he knows what it is.
This is something that Hoseok and A-yeong made him realize during the trip as he watched them gush about the pretty streets and marvel at the fjords and immerse themselves in the view of the northern lights. 
His cousin, the President of the company who makes decisive decisions and conducts press conferences and signs off on billion won projects, is the same man who squealed during a husky ride in Finland, laughed his butt off when he slipped on a glacier, and muttered words of love to his wife as they all watched the bright evening sky over the lake in Norway. There was so much passion in him, something A-yeong mirrored, whether it was about work or his relationships or just about everything in life. Hoseok looked forward to that trip, to that time with his wife, to that break, to seeing the scenery and feeling peace. 
While Jungkook found himself constantly thinking about the Arts Center and upcoming projects and new design ideas… and the one person who connected him to all those - you. It felt like he was rushing towards something because the achievement was the goal, and while he stopped by the mountains and marveled at the water as he sat on the cliffs, his mind was racing, chasing something that he couldn’t even grasp. 
That’s how the past six years have been. Perhaps more, he thinks. Maybe 20. He’s never allowed himself to just be. Quite frankly, he doesn’t know who he is outside of what he does; he doesn’t know much of how he is outside of being an executive and heir, and so during the moments when he isn’t functioning as such, he’s a bit lost, just existing in a place he’s visiting, not knowing how to interact, how to breathe; not knowing how to connect or to be free.
You’re the bright spot amidst it all. With you around, he still seems to be wandering while stuck in a certain spot, but he’s not alone because you’re there. With you around, there’s a sense of calmness somehow, with your smile and your presence warming the coldest parts of him that he’s left untouched and unfeeling for years.
So when he walks towards you, his eyes fully opening now to see you better, he hums in satisfaction. 
“It’s nice to see you again,” he says, prompting you to turn around. “It feels like it’s been so long.”
“Really, Mr. Jeon? I thought the three weeks felt fast,” you giggle. “But it’s nice to see you, too. Were you able to rest out there?”
“Somehow,” he replies, taking the glass of water you give him.
“Is that why you passed on your morning workout to sleep in?” You raise an eyebrow, thinking that he’d slept in when you walked into his penthouse earlier without the usual sounds from the gym that you’d gotten used to.
“I was pretty jet lagged,” he groans. “Couldn’t sleep so I did it last night to tire myself out and then I finally fell asleep three hours ago. It’s a miracle I woke up after the tenth snooze of my alarm.”
“Ooh, that is not good, considering all the documents on your desks and messages on your inbox,” you shake your head. “What if I move the team meeting to tomorrow so you don’t push yourself too hard today? You could’ve taken the day off.”
“And have a worse day tomorrow? No thanks,” he chuckles. “I’m fine, but I agree with moving the meeting.”
“Just take it slow,” you advise. “I brought some pastries because I know your fridge and pantry are empty. I’ll get them ready shortly.”
“I’ll wash up then.”
You follow not long after, preparing his outfits for the second half of the week, then setting out the breakfast for both of you. He returns to the kitchen wearing the brown suit you chose for today, looking just as handsome as you remember. You fix his tie like you always do and meet his eyes like it’s reflex, the warmth bubbling within you when he returns your soft smile. You take your seat a chair away, taking your iPad after to start going through updates when he stops you.
“Not yet, please. My mind’s still half asleep.”
“Okay, sir,” you respond. “We can talk about your trip instead. How was it?”
Jungkook finds himself more engaged in telling you about it, not like how he was when his best friends met him for dinner last night and he was too tired to narrate how it went. But you ask with such excitement that he ends up sharing more than what he planned.
He talks about the Vikings museum and historical tours, the bike rides and coastal walks, the calm but lively cities and the breathtaking waterfalls. He even mentions the things he’d only kept to himself - like that one evening when the sky looked like one of Lee Jaemin’s paintings that had him staying at the balcony with a glass of wine while basking in its beauty, and when they were in Hans Christian Andersen’s hometown and he wondered what kind of fairytale character he would be, and that he learned he really enjoys hot springs during the winter. They’re random thoughts that he just ended up saying, somehow feeling natural and comfortable in sharing them with you. 
You indulge him, asking more and sharing your thoughts, too. You even throw in the occasional teasing remark and playful laughter. You ask about the scenery, expressing your yearning for the outdoors that you said you never really appreciated before, as the open space always overwhelmed you.
He passes you his iPad where he’s opened the folder of the photos that he took with his camera, a gift from Taehyung who’d said that Jungkook needed to go out more and “feel the sun.” He rarely used it but a Northern Europe trip seemed like the perfect excuse. He’s used to assessing interiors and marveling at structures from afar, but this time he got to appreciate what lies beyond his walls, beyond the little world he’s been burrowing himself in.
“These are stunning, Jungkook,” you gush, dropping the formalities as he shares something that feels so personal. “I didn’t know you had the talent for photography, too.”
“I wouldn’t call it a talent,” he shakes his head. “I took it as an elective during university and it helps with design ideas. I should at least take nice photos if I need inspiration or a basis. I don’t really do it much, though.” 
“Did it make you feel good, at least?” You ask, wondering what else gives him satisfaction.
“Somehow. It makes me feel good when I’m looking at the pictures. I’m transported to that day and that place again, like a holder of memories and desire for the good things.”
You go through the photos - dozens of them. He didn’t take too many, just one or two shots of every scenery. Beyond the majestic landscape, there are the everyday scenes - people talking at a cafe, strangers enjoying the park. There’s a couple holding hands, laughing at each other; from the silhouettes, you can tell they’re Hoseok and A-yeong, a moment that Jungkook probably thought too precious to not capture. 
Something in you stirs, as the photos elicit a mix of awe and yearning. You look at Jungkook and you think it’s what he felt, too. 
There’s a saying you heard about watching what people photograph to learn what they fear losing. With Jungkook, it seems as if these - freedom, tranquility, connection, intimacy - are things he wants; somehow they seem to be what he fears having. 
“It’s nice to have a keeper of good memories, isn’t it? Of that reminder that beautiful things exist and that they’re tangible, you know?” You say, returning his gadget. 
“It is,” he responds after a beat of silence, seemingly processing your words. “We forget sometimes. Or maybe, we just don’t know what that’s like. In that case it’s like an illusion. But it’s still good to have that, I guess. It’s still something.”
You don’t know what more could be said. It feels too personal or even intimate of a conversation to have with your boss on a Wednesday morning as you eat breakfast in his apartment. So you let it go, smiling as you say you’re glad he got to have some rest. 
He says that so does he and then asks about how your holiday was as you both head to the car. You talk about it during the ride, how you spent a week in Wando with your mother’s partner’s family and then drove to Jeonju, how the entirety of your break had you stuffing your face with food and bonding with them, and how they drove you back to Seoul last weekend, thankful that for those two weeks, they had you around.
You don’t tell Jungkook that some days, you’d think of him, wondering how he’s doing. You don’t tell him that you’d seen A-yeong’s posts and that he looked at peace in them, that there was a softness in his eyes that you’ve rarely seen on him. You don’t tell him that despite the vacation that you said you were looking forward to, you were also looking forward to this - having him back, sharing stories, and living in the silence alongside him.
You wonder, as you glance at him looking out the window, if this is what you meant about savoring the moment, enjoying what’s in front of you, and feeling less alone. Because right now, those are exactly what you feel. 
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Jungkook wanted to wait to get to the office before proceeding to work matters, something that surprises you because he always gets down to business immediately, not unless he’s recovering from a hangover. But he blew you off even in the car, wanting instead to listen to your stories and then doodle on his leather notebook again for the rest of the ride. You end up meeting with him for an hour before he settles in, then he goes to lunch with his father, meets with your team, and then decides to visit the Arts Center mid-afternoon. 
Work is back in full-swing just like that, and you pull the energy from within you to manage the crazy week. There are start-of-the-year events to attend and organize, a board report and meeting to prepare for, new projects to initiate, and a major one to monitor. 
You’re glad that despite all that, Jungkook allows you to have a four-day off on the succeeding week so you can celebrate your birthday with a road trip down coastal towns with Jimin and Soomin. It’s a silly thing to do in the middle of winter, but they insist that warmth is most satisfying when it’s cold outside, and you don’t disagree. You’ll definitely be sighing in relief when you hold the steaming hot hotteok in between your hands, and it’ll be the best one you’ll have. 
It’s Thursday and you’ll be back in a week. You’ve just finished briefing Do-hyun, who’ll be covering for you while you’re away, and you get off your chair to grab tea in the pantry. Jungkook’s voice stops as you, as he stands by his door and asks if you’re already leaving.
“In an hour, Mr. Jeon,” you reply. “Is there anything I can help you with until then?”
“No, nothing,” he says. “I’m actually about to leave for dinner with Taehyung and Seokjin.”
“Oh, alright, sir,” you hum. “Goodbye, then. And I’ll see you next week. Just know that you’re the only one who can disturb me.”
He laughs in response. “Come on, I won’t be badgering you, especially on your birthday. It’s your one week away from me. You have to savor it.”
“So should you,” you counter. “But okay. I will.”
“Good,” he nods. “I’ll just fix up and go ahead then.”
He returns to his room and you’re just the tiniest bit disappointed that he didn’t properly greet you but you suppose that’s good for you. So you go to the pantry and end up chit-chatting with the team, finding yourself smiling when you look up and see Jungkook by the door, who tells everyone not to stay too late before he heads out. 
You arrive back at your desk, your heart beating fast at the sight of a small brown bag on your table. 
For your trip. Something to help remind you that beautiful things exist and they’re tangible, the note reads. Happy birthday. 
Your mind goes to a conversation you had not long ago, about how photos can elicit certain emotions and be a keeper of memories, especially of good ones. You know this is from Jungkook, and you also have an idea of what this might be, which is why you open the package right away.
Still, it catches you by surprise, especially when you find two disposable film cameras inside. They’ll definitely be enough for your upcoming trip and you know the photos will come out amazingly. You’re ecstatic. 
Perhaps this is why he wanted to leave before you did - you’d thank him and he’d be terrible at accepting it again, then you’ll call him out for it. Maybe it was good he hadn’t stuck around to see you act this way. At least he didn’t see you with that silly smile on your face.
But Yoongi does as you head down the elevator, smirking at you when he sees the bag you’re holding and the familiar handwriting on the card.
“I’m guessing you’re not fighting it anymore, huh?” He says, teasing yet somehow still comforting. 
“I’m trying not to, even if I know I’m being stupid,” you admit. “I can at least have these fleeting moments of joy after I walk away from this.”
“Retain the good memories. That’s one way to let things go,” Yoongi advises, as he exits the carriage on the parking lot floor.
The doors close on your smiling face, and he chuckles to himself at the irony of things. That’s how he learned to let you go, after all.
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You return to work the following week with a spring in your step, with Jungkook noticing as you heat up the fried rice that you told him you’d be preparing for breakfast. You hum as you go about in the kitchen, feeling energized after the last few days you’ve had. 
It was freezing, but you, Soomin, and Jimin went a little crazy and ran down the beach whenever you drove by one, something you all did as kids living in Busan. The drives from town to town were slow but they had you all singing to your favorite songs, munching on chestnuts and bungeoppang, and stopping over viewing sites for fresh air and photos. 
You used Jungkook’s gift a lot, taking pictures of things that elicited strong emotions and good memories - purple and orange skies, snow melting on the pavement, the crashing ocean waves turning white at the tip, an empty playground in the park, Soomin’s infectious laughter, Jimin’s angelic smile. 
The cold was an excuse to seek your best friends’ warmth and they took advantage of it. It reminded you of those few years growing up with them before you returned to Daegu for college, something you and Jimin reminisced about, and something that you thanked him for after what seemed like ages. You recalled how he approached you first as the new girl who entered school in the middle of the school year, how he followed you around because you were always alone and was scared of loud noises, and how he’s never left your side since then. 
Every night during that trip, he hugged you as you tried to fall asleep, knowing you needed it for the cold you felt inside and out. He was next to you when you talked about Jungkook gifting you the cameras and admitted that it made you feel good, that it made you happy.
“I’m glad he’s showing you kindness,” Jimin had said. “But… just be careful, okay? Your heart is capable of a lot of good things. Pain is the last thing it deserves.”
“I don’t really know what my heart is capable of,” you replied. “My brain does the hurting but my heart… I don’t know what it does. I don’t know how it works.” 
It left him speechless then and somehow, you were glad that he just held you tighter, only because it was the only way you wanted to be comforted at that moment. But you also knew that whatever your heart ended up doing or experiencing, Jimin and Soomin would be there to help you make sense of it, to pick up the pieces should they need to.
“It seems as though your birthday rejuvenated you, ___,” Jungkook disrupts your thoughts. “You look much lighter and relaxed.”
“Only because I haven’t checked my emails nor taken new instructions from you,” you laugh as you serve the fried rice in bowls then head towards him. You fix his suit again and speak casually like you’ve gotten used to. “Once I open that iPad and see what I have to deal with, relaxed would be the last thing I’ll be.”
“Fair enough,” he chuckles. “Let me savor this then.”
His words catch you off guard and they prompt you to meet his eyes - soft yet piercing, then he turns shy and turns away from you. Perhaps he’s surprised at what he’d said, too.
“Work is stressful and your calmness rubs off on me most times,” he says nonchalantly. “We’ve got a busy few days ahead and I want that calmness to linger.”
“It will,” you assure him. “And yes, I feel rejuvenated, and that’ll probably last me for days so that will linger, even if I’m stressed, so don't worry. You’re gonna do well. I don’t doubt it one bit.”
Jungkook’s meeting the Culture Minister next week to present the Arts Center’s plans and activities leading to its opening to the public, which is why you think he needs that calmness as well. The team has been helping him with the preparations and while you felt bad that you didn’t get to contribute as much, he assured you that all the notes you left him have been instrumental. 
But still, his words affect you. Is this calm and relaxed version of you all he wants to savor? Does it mean anything more? 
The thoughts wander away as you have breakfast with him, and he asks if you wish to talk about work later on but you insist that you’re mentally ready for it all. He’s the one who gives you updates this time, and just like that, you’re back to your usual routine.
You glance at his plate, all clean right after because even this dish, he savors. And you realize that doing things for him, no matter how simple, makes you happy, too, especially when his lips turn up in a small smile and he nods in satisfaction.
“Good, huh?” You wiggle your eyebrows. 
“It’s infinitely better than mine,” he hums.
“So, it’s really, really, really good then?”
“You don’t even know how mine tastes like.”
“True. But Taehyung said once that yours was really delicious and I’ll take his word for it. Seokjin agreed and I believe them.”
“Wow, really? That’s a rare moment where they praise me,” Jungkook laughs. 
“You should savor that, too.”
“I should. Heavens know the last time that happened. And when it���ll happen again.”
“That’s kind of hard though, isn’t it?” You say, being a bit reflective as you go back to your daily routine after a trip that you wholly enjoyed. “Savoring things… capturing them, appreciating them. Like, you have to be in the moment, you have to be present, and that’s not easy to do.”
“It isn’t,” he responds after a while. “You have to care enough for something to be worth savoring, I guess.”
“Exactly. But how do you do that when everything is temporary - things, feelings… people. Not all of them are meant to stay,” you reply, meeting his eyes as they seem to be in deep thought.
“Maybe they will… if you ask them to,” he softly says.
“That depends.”
“On what?” He asks.
“If they have a reason to,” you shrug. 
Your faraway eyes tell him that you’re in deep thought, perhaps processing the exchange that even Jungkook can’t fully wrap his head around. But you turn to him not long after, smiling as you take the plates to clean up, as if you’d just snapped out of a trance, of a moment of honesty. 
He watches you from his seat. There’s an aura about you that truly feels more relaxed, yet there seems to be an added layer of pensiveness, of deep thinking that could easily be mistaken for savoring the moment when you might be questioning it, perhaps wondering if it’s real… or worth caring about in the first place.
Even until now, he doesn’t know what it is about you that has him hanging on to every word you say, like it’s some secret message or code to learning who you are and what your fears and pains and hopes and dreams might be. 
In the past months, his moments with you have allowed him a peek inside - there’s this yearning for something that you’re not ready for; there’s this knowledge of the fleeting nature of the world that you want to capture as memories because that’s the only way you can make them stay; there’s this desire for companionship that terrifies you more than anything.  
But then again, as he sees that soft courage in your eyes, maybe he knows why - he has the same fears as you, and perhaps that’s terrifying, too, as he realizes that much of what he’s scared of is tangible. 
He fears the emptiness left in your absence and the silence surrounding him when you’re gone. His trip over the holidays made him think so; this past week when you were away solidified it. There’s a lot of you to miss. He’s unsure how to deal with these thoughts and feelings; he doesn’t know how to move forward and be professional when you affect him this way. All he can hope for is that you’ll always find a reason to stay close to him, that you’ll always find a reason to want him around, and that every moment you share is something worth it enough for you to savor but that you both never have to let go.
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You think about the conversation with Jungkook later that night on your way home. There’s something about the impermanence of the world that’s always scared you; things break and wither away all the time and you fear the loss in their absence. Perhaps it’s because you’ve experienced various types of losses throughout your years of living. 
You lost that childhood innocence the first time you saw your mother cry, then when her smile that finally returned was wiped off, and then when her hopeful eyes became filled with tears out of fear. You lost that comfort of a routine when you left Seoul at 10 years old, and then that stability when you said goodbye to your life in Busan. You lost that security when you decided to come back here with a dream tucked away, burdened with a debt and a past that you couldn’t escape. You lost that feeling of freedom when your favorite library closed, and then of safety during that night at the restaurant when you were hurt and exposed. 
It’s hard to savor things when you know you’ll lose them one day. But that’s also precisely why you should, as what these past months have been showing you, you think now. The absence reminds you that something good was in its place, and that at one point in time, it made you hope that you deserved it, that you were worthy of having it. 
But as you lay in bed that night and think of how much of Jungkook you thought about while you were away, you start to think that maybe things aren’t as temporary as you once believed. He was in the icy streets that you walked on and the warmth of the hot chocolate drink you had. He was in the drizzle on the playground that you wiped off and the touch of the leather notebook you saw at one of the shops. 
And perhaps that was the difference - you didn’t just stand by; somehow it felt like you connected with them - they were tangible, within your grasp, and that made them linger, that made them feel real. In your mind, that’s where they stayed.
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The tail-end of winter marks the time when you’ve settled in the new year. All your backlog from the holidays and your short birthday break have been worked on. Operational plans and goals for the year have been finalized. The Board report and meeting are over and major events have been scheduled. Things are picking up now as the Arts Center is near its completion, with the consequent promotions and marketing on full speed. That last bit has been contracted to a subsidiary company but Jungkook is still on top of most things, which means that so are you. 
You accompany him to meetings with different departments regularly, and that’s on top of monitoring the other small projects that the VP office is working on, which is also on top of supporting Jungkook’s executive functions. In a blink of an eye, you’re back to the hustle and bustle nature of your job, and you’re reminded of why it’s been so hard to get out of it, and also why you can’t wait to do so. 
There’s just so much going on all at once, and given how you are, you give all of yourself to it because it’s the only way to get things done; it’s the only way to get through it without feeling like you’re taking for granted all that you’ve been given and achieved. But it also means you’ve lost the sense of meaning of most other things, and you wanna be able to do something that means something to you, something of good memories, of beautiful things that are tangible that you can touch and feel. 
You let go of the thoughts when Do-hyun and Yohan pop in your area to say goodbye. It’s another long night for everyone and you’re glad that they finally listened to you and decided to go home. You say that you still have a couple of things to work on when they insist that they walk you to the bus stop, telling them once more that you’ll be fine. 
“It’s forecasted to rain soon,” Do-hyun informs you. 
“I’ll get a cab, don’t worry,” you assure them. “Finance needs these files first thing tomorrow morning and we’ve got that ocular at 8. Thank you though.” 
“Fine, but let us know when you’re home, okay?” She says.
“I will. Get home safely, you two.”
You get back to work, and with the peace and quiet in the office with you being the last one here, you manage to finish what you need to in an hour and then finally call it a night. You head out and sigh to yourself once you see the lightning strike, knowing that it wouldn’t be long before the rain will begin to pour. You manage to bring out your umbrella by the time it does, then turn at the corner to look for a cab so you can avoid those who’ll be hailing from the main road. 
There are a few people who have the same idea as you, and it’s after some time before you spot one, with the driver slowing down once he sees you. But right as you start speed walking towards it, some man decides to get ahead, running past you and bumping you in the process, causing you to lose your balance. The wet pavement doesn’t help, as you slip on your foot and fall to the ground. You try to get up but jerk in pain when you do, realizing that you’d hurt your ankle, a foreign feeling that has you immediately worrying. 
After all the times you’d found yourself under the rain, this is the worst moment of all - you’re hurting, all alone, and completely worn out. You’ve had a really long day and you don’t have the energy for this; all you want is to go home and have some rest. But you know there’s no other way, so you shift on your bum, manage to get up and strain your arms in the process, then you limp to the nearest post you can find using your umbrella as a walking stick then stand on one foot.
The rain has weakened a little, so you’re at least not getting even more wet, but it’s still winter and you’ve started to freeze. There are no other cabs in sight and all ride-hailing apps have been such a pain to book. Knowing that it’ll be tough to get home in any way at this stage and that you won’t be able to manage on your own, you decide to call Mr. Ri. He’s always told you that if you need help for anything, he’s another person that you could call.
It’s half past 8 in the evening. You’re banking on him being on the way home after having dropped Jungkook off at his building after a dinner meeting at 5:30.
“Hey, ___. Is everything alright?” Mr. Ri asks, knowing you rarely call at this hour. 
“Not really,” you sigh, the shiver in your voice evident. “Have you dropped Jungkook off?”
“Not yet. But what do you mean, not really? What happened?”
“Are you driving?”
“No. I’m still waiting for him to finish. Tell me, are you in danger?” He presses, and you hear the worry in his voice. 
You told him about Chi-won some weeks after it happened, and Mr. Ri, having known you for many years, knows you’re not one to usually reach out. He’s made it a point to check on you regularly, and calls like this would definitely ring some alarm bells. 
“I’m not in danger but I hurt myself,” you say, quickly appeasing him that it’s probably just a sprained ankle and not that serious. “I just can’t get any ride and I can barely walk. I was hoping you were on the way home.”
“I’m not but I’ll go get you, okay? I’ll tell Jungkook and we’ll drive to you right away.”
“Mr. Ri, he’s in a meeting!” 
“That’s most likely over and now they’re just chatting over drinks,” he reasons. “I’ll get him. You know he’ll want me to.”
“You don’t know that,” you stammer.
“You weren’t there with him the days after what happened that night at the restaurant, ___,” he huffs. “I just knew it was really bad because of how worried he was, and he’s never been that way. So yes, I know he’ll want me to get his ass out of there and be on the way to you. Plus, I’m sure he’ll fire me if I don’t.”
“Fine,” you concede. “Just don’t make it sound so bad because it really isn’t.”
“You know I can’t control how that kid reacts,” he hums. “Just send me your location.”
Mr. Ri heads out of the driver’s lounge and rushes to the restaurant where he manages to send a message to Jungkook that you’re stranded somewhere with possibly a sprained ankle. He says it as it is, knowing that Jungkook won’t need much to decide on ending the meeting and go to you, which he does right away.
“What happened?” He asks the older man as they both walk towards the basement parking.
“I don’t know. I didn’t ask any more questions,” Mr. Ri responds. “She’s somewhere near the office. We’ll be there in 20 minutes.”
“Try for 15,” Jungkook instructs.
He calls you right after and he immediately picks up on your chattering teeth.
“Hey, ___. How are you feeling?”
You’re a little surprised when Jungkook calls this soon, and with how you’re trying to move past whatever attraction you have towards the man, this really isn’t helping.
“Just… cold. My umbrella flew away,” you laugh. “The wind’s picked up and I think it’s gonna rain again.”
Just as you say so, it starts, and you pick up on the change in Jungkook’s voice. You’ve since learned that he’s not fond of it, always closing his eyes and trying to tune everything out with even just a drizzle. But he continues talking and asks what happened, trying to keep you company. You narrate the incident and attempt to play it off as something minor, although the longer you stay leaning against the post, the more pain you’re starting to feel. 
“We’re five minutes away. We’ll be there soon,” he assures you then drops the call.
Jungkook clenches his fist and closes his eyes as the rain continues to pour. With the sound of the thunder, he jerks in his seat like he always does, but he pushes forward, knowing you need his help. He takes deep breaths just as he’s learned to do, and not long after, Mr. Ri informs him that he sees you just meters away.
The car slows down and Jungkook looks outside the window. He can see you leaning against a pole on one foot, drenched and shivering, your eyes closed as you wait for them to arrive. He meets Mr. Ri’s eyes in the rear view mirror as they halt, and with the rain just barely stopping, the older man nods and exits the car.
Jungkook watches from inside as Mr. Ri runs to you. He sees the smile on your face despite the droplets on the window. The older man takes your bag then helps you walk, leading you to the car where Jungkook manages to push the door open. 
You slowly enter with as much energy you can muster, wincing in pain when you have to adjust your foot inside. You sigh in relief as you feel the warmth and dryness of the car, prompting you to apologize for getting it all wet.
“Don’t worry about it,” Jungkook shakes his head. “We’ll take you to the hospital, okay? And I won’t accept no for an answer.”
You nod in agreement, knowing that much as you’re causing him inconvenience right now, you’re too tired to argue. You lean your head by the window and try to catch your breath. 
“Have you had dinner? He asks.
“Not yet. I was supposed to grab it on the way home.”
“We’ll pass by somewhere after the hospital.”
“Okay,” you look at him and smile. 
Jungkook isn’t surprised when you don’t counter him. Perhaps it’s the exhaustion, as he sees it in how your smile isn’t as bright as what he’s used to, with it fading as you turn away. You’re still shivering though, despite the car heater being turned up. He doesn’t have a towel to dry you up, though, so he instead removes his coat and instructs you to lean forward so he can place it over your shoulders to warm your back. He takes his puffer jacket from the front seat and puts it over your lap right after, giving you warmth there, too. 
“Is that better?” He asks.
“Yeah,” you mouth. “Thank you.”
His scent wafts through your senses, allowing you to breathe and feel all of him at once. It’s the closest thing to tangible comfort you’ve gotten from him, and you hate how good it feels.
You’re just about to fall asleep when the car comes to a stop. The rain has subsided and perhaps that’s why soon after, you hear Jungkook open his door and then your door, too. He removes his coat over your back, placing it back inside, then he holds onto your forearms to help you climb out. He takes his jacket and instructs you to wear it, giggling at how you’re being swallowed in it.
“I look ridiculous,” you pout as you sit on the wheelchair that he’s asked the nurse to get.
“Just a little,” he teases.
He walks next to you as you’re wheeled inside the hospital, staying close by when you explain to the ER doctor what happened. She assesses your foot and lower leg, diagnosing you with a sprained ankle like you expected, and proceeds to wrap it in elastic bandage. 
She treats the minor scratches on your palms you got from the fall then writes you a prescription for painkillers. Jungkook takes it so he can buy them for you after, then he helps you settle the bill with your insurance. 
You’re quite uncomfortable - you’re still a little wet and the bandage feels foreign around your foot. But you’re also feeling a bit shy, now that Jungkook is the one pushing the wheelchair towards the pharmacy nearby. He parks you at the side while he buys the medicine, and as you look on, you can’t help the relief mixed with giddiness that you feel despite the pain that’s close to overtaking you.
He stands by the counter with his white dress shirt slightly untucked and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His hands are in his pockets while he waits for the pharmacist to return, and amidst everything that’s going on, you’re still able to admire how overwhelmingly handsome he looks, especially given what he’s doing right now for you. His side view is quite blinding, so you’re slightly embarrassed when he turns around and calls your name again after you missed it the first few times.
“Dazed and tired?” He asks as he walks back to you with a pack of medicines.
“Definitely,” you say, which isn’t a lie; it’s just not the whole truth. “I just want to eat and have a nice bath and then sleep.”
“And you’ll do all that soon,” he assures you. “We’ll pass by whatever’s open on the way to your place. Just make sure you don’t have the hot water on, okay? And then elevate your foot when you sleep.”
“Yes, I heard everything she said,” you playfully roll your eyes. 
“Including the full-on rest that’s required of you for the next few days?” He raises an eyebrow. “Because that’s what you’re gonna have. You’re on leave until you’re able to walk properly again, Ms. Cho.”
“So now you’re being formal,” you tease, flashing him a playful smile. “But yes, Mr. Jeon. The instructions are understood.”
“Good,” he laughs softly. “Glad you’re not being stubborn about it.”
“Oh, not with this one, not when I’m this tired and in this much pain.”
His look turns sullen at the admission of what you’re feeling and you wish he didn’t feel this bad. But you can’t deny the way it’s giving you butterflies, prompting you to scold yourself internally because learning how caring he is isn’t exactly what you need to get over a crush. This is definitely the worst part about being injured, you decide. 
You make it out of the hospital and he helps you again as you enter the car, sliding in next to you as he ensures that you’re warm. 
You pass by a noodle house on the way, and he buys you some more food for the next day despite your insistence that he didn’t have to. But you’re too tired to argue some more, and you doze off a little during the drive to your apartment, with your half-awake self mumbling your apology about taking up his time.
Jungkook playfully shakes his head. Knowing you’re probably shallow sleep-talking, he disregards your words. He just gets glimpses of you, comforted to know that you’re at least getting the most rest you can have, given your current state. The painkillers will kick in soon and that’ll help you sleep better, but right now, he wishes he could do more for you. 
In the deepest crevices of his heart, he wants to hold your still shivering hands and maybe hug your trembling body. He wants to stay with you until you’re warm and comfortable in your bed, perhaps assure you in whatever way that you’re not alone, that there’s help whenever you need it. He can’t imagine how it would’ve been like for you being under the rain, cold and hurt with no one around. 
On second thought, he can, and that’s the thing about it. Even if you get out of it with just a sprained ankle - considering how much worse it could’ve been - it’s still terrifying being alone and powerless, paralyzed on the spot and not knowing if anyone will show up. He wants nothing more than for you to get over that and be able to move past it because he knows how haunting it could be; he knows how restraining such memories are.
But he also knows that there’s not much he could do - not with the unnamed feelings he can’t express, and not with the line he still believes he shouldn’t cross.
So he settles for glances and soft smiles at your fluttering eyes and slightly parted mouth. You look tired but peaceful; he thinks it’s quite endearing. It also feels intrusive so he looks away, out into the streets that he’s able to somehow see now. He thinks about the timing of it all - your late night and his dinner out, your injury and the bad weather. He’s thankful that the rain subsided and that allowed him to help you as much as he was able to, and that he got to you in the first place.
You arrive at your apartment with you now fully awake, and Jungkook heads to your side right away. Pulling you out of the car requires more strength from him, and despite your terrible condition, the butterflies appear once more when he instructs you to hold onto him for support. You have to act unaffected when you feel his broad shoulders and taut arms, with your hands gingerly laying on them; you wonder if he feels anything, too, under the thin material of his dress shirt. 
His left hand only grazes your waist but his hold tightens after you grant him permission, perhaps knowing that it would be harder for you if he holds you that loose, he asked you to put your weight on him after all. Despite your agreement, you still hold in your breath, a silly attempt at slowing down your quickening heartbeat. He’s never been this close, and you’re unsure if you want him to be anywhere else.
You suspend your thoughts for the shortest of seconds until you both manage to get up the few steps to your door. Mr. Ri helps in unlocking it, and you settle on the dining chair that Jungkook pulls out for you after you both enter.
As you release a breath and watch him look around, it’s then you realize that your boss - the Jeon Corporation Vice President who lives in a penthouse in an exclusive district in Seoul - is in your tiny studio apartment that’s literally just the size of his bedroom. You’re not ashamed one bit but you are a little shy, so you jokingly welcome him to your “little mansion.”
“It’s nice,” he hums, looking around some more, which he doesn’t need to move to do. 
The small round dining table, the off-the-wall kitchen, and the three-seater couch are all in the open living space. There’s a half-wall that separates your sleeping area, with your double bed against it and the tiniest of balconies just off of it. 
You’re quite proud of what you’ve made of the place, with the plants in the corners, some chic art pieces on the walls, and photos with your friends and family on stick-on frames resting on the shelves. It’s cozy and comfortable for you, and you feel quite proud when Jungkook’s lips turn up when you respond that you’re happy here when he asks.
“It’s everything I need,” you hum. “And it’s in a safe part of town. My neighbors are older couples who are all kind.”
“That’s good,” he says, turning to you. “Will they be much help to you while you recover?”
“I’ll be okay,” you insist. “I have a crutch. I’ve got food to heat up, and my place is so small that I don’t have to move around to get things done. I don’t really need help, you know?”
He scrunches his eyebrows, seemingly unconvinced. 
“Watch,” you say, your shallow confidence pushing you to grab the crutch next to you then using it to walk towards him so you could prove that you’re capable enough to look after yourself. 
But your unfamiliarity with it leads you to mistime your step. Before you know it, you’re tripping on your foot and losing your balance, and as your life is about to flash before your eyes thinking that you’re gonna fall once again and make your injury worse, Jungkook’s reflex kicks in and he steps forward to catch you. You feel his grip on your waist gradually tighten as if to keep you steady, as if to make sure you’re alright. He’s so close, you can feel his breath as he pants, the worried look on his face something you’re familiar with by now. But he stays there, inches away, and so do you. 
He’s bending, so he stays leveled with you. You can see his long eyelashes resting on his honeyed skin and the endearing curve of his nose. He looks so soft like this, comfortable even, with his big round eyes looking like the most innocent ones you’ve ever seen.
The voice in your head suddenly becomes loud enough and you break his gaze, realizing then that you’re also clutching onto his shoulder for support. You give him a look of apology but he just laughs, something you’re thankful for because the last thing you want is for the tension to thicken.
“You’re stubborn, aren’t you? You think it’s that easy?” He shakes his head, his tone sounding like he’s both teasing and reprimanding you.
“It seemed like it,” you shrug, allowing him to help you back on the seat, disregarding the slightest bit of giddiness you feel as he has one hand on your free arm while the other ghosts over your waist in case you fall again.
“It’s not. And I know this because I’ve used this before,” he says. “So since you’ll be by yourself, we have to make sure you can at least use the crutch without falling, okay?”
“Fine,” you concede, listening to his instructions carefully then trying to do it on your own. 
It takes some getting used to, but after a few tries, you manage to at least walk without tripping. You plan on just staying in bed or on the couch tomorrow anyway so you’re not that worried. Even if Jungkook still seems to be.
“I’m okay,” you insist. “I’m gonna survive. But you should head home. It’s getting late and you have that ocular in the morning. I’ll just have to email Chin-sun about accompanying you and—”
“None of that,” he interjects. “I’ll be the one to tell her and I don’t want you worrying about work tomorrow, okay? You’re gonna take your medicine and just rest.”
“You’re demanding, aren’t you?” You raise an eyebrow.
“Only when I’m dealing with someone as stubborn as you,” he counters. 
You just laugh at him answering back, enjoying your banter more than you should, then he says that he’ll go ahead, for as long as you’re sure you can manage. It takes another five minutes until he makes it out the door. But before he disappears, you call his name, your heart skipping a beat when he turns around, as if he’s just hanging onto your every word.
“Thank you,” you say. “I know it was a long day and it was raining but… you still came for me.”
“Just recover quickly, okay? I’ll check on you in the morning.”
You nod and he leaves. And just like that, you’re once again on your own - damp, injured, and extremely tired. Jungkook’s presence remains in your apartment though, and there he is again, making you smile and making you feel things you shouldn’t.
You don’t mind being alone. In fact, you enjoy it. But during the times when you don’t want to be, he just happens to be there. And being the stubborn woman that you are, deep down, you like it that he is, that in your own little world with the walls up so high, he’s become a frequent visitor. You’re just not sure if you want him to stay just yet. 
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You wake up the next morning feeling faint and sore, and it’s probably the painkillers having lost their effect. And there’s a reason why, seeing that it’s close to midday when you finally get out of bed. You manage to stand and walk to the kitchen with no issues, and you take your medication and heat up the food that Jungkook bought for you last night. It’s when you’re seated that he calls, bringing that smile to your otherwise uneventful day.
“Hello?”
“Hey, ___. How are you feeling?” He asks.
“Just fine. I took my medicines for the day and I’m about to eat lunch,” you reply. “And you? How was the ocular?”
“It was good. It has a lot of potential so I’ll run down the details with the teams and propose it. But speaking of sites, remember what I said about Hoseok and I thinking of a Scandinavian-inspired mid-rise in the mountains?”
“Yeah, the one you came up with during your trip. Are you gonna push through with it soon?”
“Perhaps. I’ve gotten emails of proposed sites for some other projects but I’ve seen a few that could work with this idea,” he shares. “There’s one in Gangwon that’s near the town center so it would be practical for many. There’s even— ah, why am I saying this to you now? You’re off the clock.”
“It’s okay,” you assure him. Jungkook doesn’t always show this much excitement with the projects he has to manage so when he does, you encourage him. It’s also an excuse to hear more of his voice. “My mind’s not prepared for being home today anyway so I’m a little disoriented. But that’s good. I can look into the sites and we can do an ocular whenever you prefer.”
“Alright, that’s something to schedule for next month. But uh, you sure you’re fine? Does your ankle still hurt? Did you get proper sleep?”
“Well, I slept like a baby,” you giggle. “And I at least remained in one position. It still hurts a bit but it should be okay in the next few days. I’m just gonna have to replace the bandage tomorrow morning.”
“Okay. Just make sure to ice it and keep it elevated.”
“Yes, boss,” you tease, earning you a groan. “But uh, thank you for checking up on me. I know you’ve got a busy day ahead.”
He’s silent, and you suppose it’s him again not knowing how to respond to gratitude, so you follow it up by saying that you’ll eat your meal now and reminding him of his meeting at 2PM.
“You better not be checking your emails and my calendar right now,” he warns.
“I’m not. I just memorize your schedule,” you defend.
“Okay then, I’ll go ahead.”
Jungkook drops the call and sinking in his seat, he sighs in relief. He managed to get through that conversation without sounding extremely worried, which is what he’s been since last night. His busy day today actually includes constantly worrying about how you’re doing, but he supposes it’s too much to let you know. Sure it’s just a sprained ankle, but knowing how you tend to move about, anything can happen. You were all alone for some time last night, too, just waiting for a way to get home. And that’s another thing he worries about - that fear latching onto you, that helplessness weighing you down.
He asks Mr. Ri if he’s heard from you, thinking that you’d probably be more honest with him, but the older man says you told him the same thing.
“Don’t you believe her?” Mr. Ri wonders.
“I do, but she’s quite stubborn though,” Jungkook laments. 
“Well, I’ve known her for a while and she tends to just deal with things on her own,” Mr. Ri says.
“But she shouldn’t. She’s injured.”
“I think it’s natural for people who’ve been alone for many years to be that way,” the older man shrugs. “I mean, you’re the same.”
Jungkook doesn’t disagree. And if you’re truly anything like him, then you’d just push through the pain and force it to stop hurting so you can go back to your normal busy life because doing so keeps you from thinking of how lonely it feels when you’re sick or hurt and there’s no one around. It’s how he’s always been, too, he admits to himself.
The thought disturbs him, which is why he messages you three more times during the day and then again the next morning, asking if he could drop by. He’s expecting you to insist that you’re fine and he doesn’t need to, so it surprises him when you say that he could. 
You’re pacing back and forth in your mind since you’re unable to physically do so, but the thought of Jungkook visiting you this Saturday morning is a lot for you to handle, even if you did say it was alright for him to come. The truth is, you wanted him to, only because selfishly, seeing someone be that worried about you gives you some form of comfort.
You called your family yesterday and told them about the injury, which they obviously panicked about. Your mom asked if you needed her to come to you but like always, you said she didn’t need to. You told Yoongi about it, too, and he was worried as well, in the classic way that he often is; he had food delivered to you for dinner last night so you didn’t have to think about it. You only told your best friends about it this morning and they were furious you waited so long to let them know; they were packing their stuff right as you were speaking to them two hours ago. 
You know you have people to depend on and would be at your doorstep anytime you ask. These are the same people who’ve done that for years and you fully accept their care and attention; it’s become a part of you and your healing process. But when someone like Jungkook who, for whatever reason he has, shows you the same, it feels different; he goes out of his way to show it to you, and he’s not even someone who normally does it. It’s a new kind of comfort, one that you find yourself seeking. So when he called earlier and asked if he could drop by, there was an internal sigh of relief. 
Over half an hour later, your doorbell rings, and you limp your way towards the door to open it. 
Other than being in suits, you’ve only ever seen Jungkook in his gym clothes - half naked as well - and in night out wear. You realize that this is the first time you’re seeing him in a casual outfit, and with a jacket over a sweatshirt and a brown beanie, he looks different - there’s that boyish charm that you’ve never seen; he looks softer, kinder, still reserved but a lot more comfortable.
You let him in after your greetings, then you turn to him and smile. 
“It’s really the suit, I know it now,” you tease. “It’s what makes you look intimidating.”
He looks at his attire then frowns at you. “So how do I look now?”
“Not intimidating.”
“Wow, what a surprise,” he playfully rolls his eyes. “Whereas you…” He eyes you in gray leggings and a blush jumper, looking soft and comfortable and even more like the bright spot he’s realized you are, but he’d never tell you that. “You look injured.”
“Gee, what a surprise. I feel injured, too,” you laugh. “But uhm, it’s nice of you to visit my humble mansion once again.”
“I just wanted to make sure you’re doing better,” he hums. “And bring some more food so you don’t have to worry about it.”
You eye the beef brisket with rice and say that you know what you’ll be having for lunch. He responds that he might just go back to the restaurant and meet his best friends there, too. You return to your seat on the couch, realizing there’s not much room for him to sit on, but he gets to you first, standing in front of you and eyeing the elastic bandage on the table.
“Aren’t you due for a redress?” He asks.
“Yes but uh, I can’t actually reach my foot,” you say with an embarrassed smile. “I’m not really flexible so I’ll just wait until Soomin and Jimin arrive.”
“I can do it,” he offers, thinking that the bandage isn’t serving its purpose if it remains loose. “I mean, I’ve dressed myself on my own before so I’m familiar with it.”
It’s probably the painkillers but something possesses you and you agree, your mind too out of it to take the words back. A part of you wishes you had, especially when your heart does a thing when he kneels on the floor and slowly takes your injured foot. You wiggle your toes in reflex, as if they’re shy, too, and Jungkook laughs at your silly antics, especially when you admit that you’re a little ticklish. 
But he softly looks at you right after and asks if he’s hurting you, and you shake your head, unable to say anything else and process that you really allowed this man - your boss and in-denial crush - to do this. 
You sit there, charmed by the way he looks determined to get this done. He removes the old bandage and wipes your ankle before wrapping it with a new one. His hands are large and quite rough but he’s very gentle, making sure to not lift your foot too high and that the bandage isn’t wrapped too tightly. Once he’s finished, he lays it on the table and looks up at you to ask if it feels okay.
“Yes,” you shyly smile. “Thank you. That was, uh, that was really nice of you.”
He nods and stands up to throw the trash in the bin, wanting to quickly hide his smile at how wholesome you looked in thanking him. 
He proceeds to look around, taking more of your home in. There’s something very calming about it, and it’s more than just the plants that you have and the right amount of sunlight coming from the balcony door and kitchen window. There’s also something familiar, as he looks through your shelf of photos, seeing your mom and her partner for the first time. She looks a lot like you. She has a nice smile like yours, and she sees that same joy on her face as he’d seen on you, as she hugs you tightly in one of the pictures. 
The familiarity is similar to when he first had a whiff of your scent - old rose like the one his mother used to wear, one he remembers as a child when he still clung to her. There are those memories that stick with him. Others he doesn’t have anymore but that’s good, he supposes. Seeing your shelf, he sees all the good and tangible things you hold dear. 
“The photo on the far right, the one with Soomin and Jimin. We took that during my birthday trip using your gift,” you tell him. “It came out really nicely.”
“It did. Did you finish the film? What else did you take photos of?”
“We used it all up,” you smile. “And just a lot of the scenery and the three of us. We all divided them so we could have copies and just remember how fun that week was.”
“Good, that’s what I hoped.”
Jungkook stands there, his jacket now off so his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and his hands are in his pockets as he looks through your shelf. You wonder what he’s thinking, what he’s seeing, if any of this makes him curious. It’s as if he’s taking in all the small parts of who you are that he can see displayed before him. He turns to you and your eyes meet again, and for a moment, it feels like you’re really seeing him and he’s really seeing you, like there’s something only both of you share and understand and want and can give.
But the doorbell ringing disrupts it, with you wondering who it could be since your best friends won’t arrive until an hour from now. Jungkook walks to the door and opens it, surprised to see Yoongi who’s just as surprised to see his friend in your apartment.
“Hey, you’re back. And… here,” you smile, attempting to stand up but Yoongi tells you to stay put. 
“I flew home last night and thought I’d visit and get you some food, but it seems like I’m second in line,” he says, his smug face causing you to glare at him. 
“I just wanted to make sure she was okay,” Jungkook defends. “I won’t stay long.”
“Of course you do. And I won’t stay long either. I don’t wanna disturb anything.” 
He smirks at his friend, prompting Jungkook to glare at him as well. 
“Yah, chill, you two. I’m really just passing by,” Yoongi reiterates, making his way now to sit on the arm of your sofa. “Just wanted to check on ___ and make sure she’s well-fed.”
“I’m injured, not starving, okay?” You groan. “But thanks. What have you got there?”
“Noodles, custard buns, and some tarts. Wasn’t sure what you’re into when you’re incapacitated,” Yoongi shrugs. 
“I’m very much mobile,” you correct him. “Just… slow and limping.”
Jungkook pulls your dining chair and sits in front of you, and the three of you talk as if this isn’t weird at all. You’re all colleagues - you and Jungkook consider Yoongi as your friend, but you don’t know if you should consider your boss as such, and you don’t know if he considers you the same. You’ve definitely experienced a lot of things that could qualify what you have as friendship, but even then, there’s something more about it, something a little more intimate, different, terrifying.
You brave through this dynamic and learn that Yoongi likes to tell Jungkook off a lot. It’s the kind of bluntness you expect from Yoongi’s no-nonsense attitude but it’s refreshing to see him be more straightforward towards someone like Jungkook who you’re used to seeing as commanding and serious. Jungkook takes the hits, seemingly unbothered as they bicker, and it’s another side of him you enjoy seeing - the smiles and laughter are natural, and there’s this comfort about him that you suddenly want more of.
The time passes quickly, with the doorbell ringing again signaling that your friends have arrived. Yoongi gets up first to open the door, greeting them who do the same. You manage to stand up with Jungkook telling you to be careful, and when it dawns on them who else is in your apartment, Jimin’s face turns sour and Soomin’s goes from confused to amused. 
Jungkook looks taken aback by the cold welcome, but he manages to introduce himself to them.
“Oh, we know,” Jimin says dryly. “You’re the one who gives her so much work that she had to do overtime again and that’s why she got hurt.”
You feel the tension come like a strong wave and you try to lower the level a little bit. 
“He also brought me to the hospital and got me some food,” you tell Jimin, whose bitterness isn’t unfounded. He did listen to you complain about this very man all those months ago. “He’s just checking up on me, making sure I’m alright, the way you guys are.”
“As we should,” Jimin huffs. “At least we don’t cause you any injury or pain.”
“You don’t. But you do make things better so could you do that, please?” You say, opening your arms for a hug, something to appease him before it gets even more tense. 
Jimin has the sweetest smile but wouldn’t be afraid to burn anyone down with his looks if they deserve it. Jungkook did at one point, but you obviously feel very differently about that now. But still, you glance at the man, hoping this encounter isn’t putting him off too much, and with the slight tinge of guilt in his eyes, you suppose it hasn’t.
Jungkook turns away, partly because a reminder of how he’d treated you before makes him regret even more how you both started, and partly because seeing you affectionate with any man - even if it’s your best friend - makes him a tiny bit jealous, only because it’s something he can’t be with you. Seeing you that way with Hajoon months ago was different; Jungkook had been more shocked than anything. But this time, given that his attraction towards you seems to grow every second, and that he’s been wanting nothing more than to comfort you, there’s more of that feeling of loss, of hope that it could be him one day, even if that’s something that’ll probably never happen.
“I know you dislike him but tone it down for now, okay?” You whisper to Jimin. “My place is too small to contain all this tension.”
“I know, I’m sorry. Seeing him just reminds me of what you had to go through because of him,” he says before pulling away. “But he did help. And well, Soo and I are still upset that you didn’t tell us sooner. You know we would’ve driven here on Thursday night.”
“I know, and that’s exactly why. You both had something big going on and I could wait,” you reply, a reason you give them everytime. 
Wanting a short breather from all this, you excuse yourself and ask Soomin to help you with something in the bathroom, and she heads there right away.
“Can you make sure that those two don’t murder each other?” You whisper to Yoongi as you gesture towards Jimin and Jungkook.
“It would be entertaining if they did, but yes, I’ll try,” he chuckles.
You walk to where Soomin is and after closing the door, she looks at you with the same amusement that she’s had since she arrived.
“What in the romance drama is this!” She exclaims, lowering her voice when you scold at her to keep it down. “All your three men coming to your home to make sure you’re okay? Talk about making an impression.”
“They aren’t my men, okay!” You scowl at her. “They all just happened to have the same thought. And no, Jimin doesn’t count.”
“Whatever,” Soomin laughs. “It’s just… I know you’re hurt and that you’ll be okay but it’s just amusing to see them show up for you like this. Especially the big boss. He’s way hotter up close, I can tell you that.”
“Please don’t remind me,” you frown. “I wish there was a potion I could take to make him look unattractive to me so that I’d stop being so giddy at everything he does. And fuck, Soo, I haven’t been like this in ages. Or ever.”
“Well, you haven’t been this accepting of someone’s attention, that’s for sure.”
“Yeah, and I’m being silly. I might just be putting myself up for disappointment here,” you groan. “I mean, I don’t even know what I’m feeling, but I know what I’m not supposed to feel. And he’s not making it any easier.”
“Your situation isn’t easy in the first place, hun. And there are many reasons why,” she sighs, wishing there was a way to uncomplicate this very complicated relationship you have with Jungkook. “But whatever it is you think you shouldn’t feel, think about what he may be feeling, too. He wouldn’t be making all this effort since Thursday night for this to just be nothing.”
“I wish none of that means anything. That’s probably gonna be easier, right? That he doesn’t feel anything remotely close to what I do? That’s probably better than dealing with all the complications.”
“Maybe, but we don’t really know,” Soomin says, pulling you in for a hug. “But also think about how new and different this feels. It might be worth it in the long run.”
You fall into her embrace, knowing that during the toughest times of your life, this was your saving grace. It’s no different when you’re confused and in need of guidance, and though you’ve always made decisions for yourself with knowledge of the consequences, Soomin was there to back you up during the times when you were going in somewhat blindly. She wants you to be happy, and you won’t really know if continuing to feel what you do about Jungkook will make you so. If all else fails, well, you could always go back home, or maybe return to Busan and start a life there. Jungkook will just be a memory; you hope to the heavens it’ll be a good one.
You shake away the thoughts and finally go back out and are relieved to find some peace. Jimin’s washing your dishes while talking to Yoongi who wipes them dry. Jungkook sits on your sofa, looking around quietly, but he stands when he sees you approach him. 
“I’ll go ahead,” he says, gesturing towards the door. “I… I think you’ve got everything you need.”
“Let me walk you there,” you smile. 
He’s outside the door when you thank him again then apologize if Jimin made him uncomfortable.
“It’s okay. I’d be protective of my best friend, too, if I learned how their boss treated them,” he responds.
“I, uh… those were hard times and I may have complained quite a bit about you,” you pout. “I’m so sorry.”
“I’m sure I deserved it,” he chuckles. “You’re lucky you have them. I mean, my best friends tease me a lot and say shit about me to my face and behind my back.”
“Oh come on, Seokjin and Taehyung love you,” you laugh. “I’ve seen it, but you all also said you’re like that to each other; it’s how you guys grew up. I mean, I was the new girl in school and Jimin and Soomin have been protective since day one, whereas your best friends have shown you tough love since you were kids. They said you never accepted their affection so they switched tactics.”
“That’s fair. I was always shy and then turned into a bitter, introverted child. There was no transition, I guess. Now we’re adults and have just stuck with each other because we’re all we’ve ever known.”
“Well, you make decisions to stand by people, Jungkook. They do with you and you do the same with them. Plus, you’re not that insufferable,” you tease. 
“At least you don’t think so. Not anymore, I hope,” he says softly, looking away. 
“People deserve second chances. You gave me some and more and I… I’m glad you did. I at least get to see this side of you that’s helped me a lot these past months. I’m thankful. And I hope you know that.”
Jungkook just nods, unable to reply through words again. You let him, knowing it’s his default response. He walks to his car and turns around for a final goodbye, leaving you in anticipation for when you’d be with him again.
“Well, that was a long goodbye,” Yoongi says, surprising you as he stands behind you. “And no, I didn’t hear anything.”
You turn to him with a playful frown. “I was just making sure that Jimin didn’t make him feel too bad. I mean, I know I complained a lot but still. I didn’t want Jungkook to think I cursed his existence or something.”
“You did at one point though,” Yoongi laughs. “But it’s acceptable. Jungkook was rude, and heavens know how much shit I gave him for treating you the way he did.”
“You did, huh?”
“I always told you I’d look out for you, ___. Whatever happened or didn’t happen between us, I was always going to have your back.”
“You’re heaven-sent, Min Yoongi,” you smile. “I wish I could do half as much as you do for me.”
“You do more. I hope you don’t ever doubt the comfort that your presence gives to people. Maybe that’s what it’s done to Jungkook. And I know he hasn’t felt much of that in years.”
It’s Yoongi’s last words before he says goodbye, and they stay in your head for the next few days. Maybe Soomin’s right - all that Jungkook has been doing might mean something, and you hope that finding out what it is will all be worth it.
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Jungkook decides to meet with his friends at one of his favorite restaurants for lunch. All he planned on doing today was visit you and he has nothing else going on for the rest of it. The club scene has become boring for him, and going to one only to bring home a woman to hook up with is no longer appealing, not when you invade his mind all the time.
Being welcomed in your home was refreshing. And even if it was awkward, meeting your friends allowed him another peak into your world. You choose the people you allow in, and you don’t choose many of them. The ones you do stay for a long time, and that’s the kind of person you seem to be. You value relationships so much that’s why you don’t have many of them, and with all that you went through and the vulnerability you’ve both shown each other, he’s started to hope that one day, he’d be deserving of that, too. 
“So did you feel like a fish out of water being there with her actual friends?” Seokjin asks. “Because I don’t know what you’d consider your relationship with her is. Boss-assistant feels too simplistic at this point. Are you friends? Are you more? Or is that all too ambiguous?”
“I don’t… know,” Jungkook sighs. “We’re all that but we also aren’t. We’ve gone through so much that it doesn’t seem like there’s a way to define what we are. But I feel like I’ve seen her at her most vulnerable and we’ve connected because of that.”
“And what about you? Have you been vulnerable in front of her?” Seokjin asks.
Has he? Jungkook thinks. Maybe that first time he asked for your help with his new role but he supposes it’s nothing compared to what you’ve shown him, intentional or not.
“Not really. I… I don’t let myself be. That’s still distance I need to establish,” Jungkook reasons.
“More like, because you know that if you do show that side of you, you’re scared you’ll find out that she’ll understand, and that having her next to you is what you need to heal whatever parts of you that are still hurting?” Seokjin counters. 
“I don’t want to need her, you know that. There’s a boundary I shouldn’t cross. She’s my assistant and—”
“You’ve been treating her like the most important person and it’s not hard to miss,” Taehyung interjects. “You were never like this, not since Chaerin.”
“I don’t even know what it is about ___ that just makes me consider risking things, you know?” Jungkook sighs. “I’m always torn with what our reality is and what we could be but I’m afraid that if we cross that line, we’ll have to make sacrifices. I… I’m finding myself wanting her around all the time. When she leaves, I want her to stay. When she’s not there, I want her to come. But at the same time, I don’t want her too close because I don’t know if I can have her or if I can want her. Because I don’t know what of me I can give that won’t hurt her,” he admits, with a bit of help from some whiskey.
“Maybe if you let yourself be vulnerable, you’d know,” Seokjin advises. “Some people would run and hide but there’s always that one person who wouldn’t. That might just be her. And then you’ll learn what you can give, too.”
Jungkook lets his friends’ words settle and then thinks about them throughout the night that he spends all alone in his penthouse, with another glass of whiskey in his hand as he looks out the balcony. A part of him wants you to run and hide when you see who he really is, what he hides and what he’s ashamed of. Maybe that would be easier, he thinks; maybe that would hurt less.
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You return to work the next Tuesday, having gone to the hospital the day before and being cleared to return to your usual routine. Jimin and Soomin stayed with you until that evening, with you rejecting their insistence to stay another day. You can manage, you assure them. You’re able to walk properly now and would just need to do daily exercises, wear the elastic bandage for another week, and forego the heels. 
Jungkook’s pleased to know that you’re doing better and makes sure you don’t walk around if you don’t need to, so he’s been the one going to see you when he needs something. He also postponed some potential site visits for the project that he and Hoseok are working on until you’re fully capable, which is why it’s three weeks later when you find yourself in the car with him, on the way to some towns in nearby provinces on an early Friday morning. 
Mr. Ri called in sick today and Jungkook didn’t want to deal with a chauffeur he doesn’t know, so he decided to drive instead, thinking it’s more efficient that way. These are all initial checks and being that you’re the only one from his team who’s privy to the details, he wanted you to join him as a sounding board and also to get your own thoughts about what you’ll be seeing. He has a vision in mind and he needs to translate it properly; you’ve been helpful these past months in making sure he’s able to do that.
Disregarding what this time alone with you would do to him, Jungkook meets you in his penthouse, telling himself to focus on only one thing today, and that’s finding the right place for his planned project. 
You leave early for a quick stop at a cafe and then head north to some towns in Gyeonggi province. There are some properties and land that are up for sale, and you prepared the information about them beforehand, allowing Jungkook to play around with the timeline and budget in his mind, even drawing rough drafts on his iPad as he assesses them. You’re both in work-mode, discussing each site on the way to the next one, with you searching for more details along the way and him, stopping on the side of the road to add an idea that he comes up with on the spot. 
It’s a little chaotic, as his mind goes from one thing to another, but you suppose this is how Jungkook naturally is. You’ve seen him perform his duties in various ways, but this is when you see the most raw side of him, and it’s quite the privilege to see. He always said he preferred the creative aspect of the job, which is why he enjoyed his time in Singapore, handling the design department. You contend that he’s grown tremendously in his executive role. As Hoseok has said, Jungkook relates to his staff better now, and has even engaged and attracted more partners with his great ideas.
You’re quite sentimental going on this trip with him. It wasn’t long ago when you were going to work with anxiety, anticipating his next criticism so you can prepare yourself, and then going home feeling like a failure. So much has happened since then, and you could even say that you’ve found comfort in your daily routines; doing something different like this is now exciting and something you look forward to, especially since it allows you to go outside, see the sights, and breathe the cool air. 
“You okay there?” He asks, noticing your silence.
“Yeah. I was just thinking how 10 months ago, this would’ve stressed me out so much.”
“What? Going on a road trip?”
“Pretty much going anywhere with you,” you laugh. “Car rides even with Mr. Ri made me freak out, and I was so scared to make a mistake or make you wait for information that I couldn’t find. And now here we are - I survived the last five hours with you and not once did you groan at me.”
“Wow, I must’ve been a really terrible boss to make your standard for a non-stressful day to be that low,” he laughs before turning serious. “But I… I’m… I’m sorry, for all the stress and anxiety that I caused you. I was being selfish and irrational about it. I hate change and you were the biggest one, even with my new role. I took out all the frustration on you and I shouldn’t have.”
He says more than he expected, but it’s also the apology that he should’ve given—that you deserved —months ago. 
“I forgive you,” you say softly, glancing at him before returning your eyes towards the road. “I always knew my limits and I guess I let you push it and that was on me. I could’ve stood up to you, too.”
“You did though, more than once. And that knocked some sense into me.”
“I guess,” you hum. “And then things improved and I’m just glad they did.”
There’s a prolonged silence after, as you both opt to bask in the scenery around you. There’s that understanding and acceptance of how things were and that regardless of what’s going on in your own minds, you at least have this. You think to yourself that this just makes leaving that much harder, but at least this is one more memory you could take with you.
You make it to Hwacheon in Gangwon past noon, and this is where you spend most of your time in, as the sites are spread out around the county. There are areas tucked away in the mountains while there are those closer to town with grand views. It’s in the latter where you grab some lunch and go through some of his plans, and you take in his ideas, learning from him in the process. 
It’s late in the afternoon when you inspect the final site, which is in an area in the neighboring Chuncheon county. It’s got potential for another project that CEO Jeon is looking to do, and with your notes completed, you and Jungkook start the trip back home. You would reach the tail-end of the Friday night traffic by the time you return to Seoul, the GPS says, and so both of you savor the sky’s changing colors as it transitions to the evening, letting the soft sounds of the radio replace the silence.
Barely 30 minutes in, the rain starts to pour, and it’s seconds later when it dawns on you what that means, as you hear heavy breathing next to you. You turn to Jungkook whose hands are tightly gripping the wheel, with sweat lining his eyebrows despite the cool temperature.
“Did the forecast say it was gonna rain?” He asks, the mix of panic and frustration evident in his voice. 
“Yes, but not until late in the evening,” you say, checking your phone to make sure you got the correct information. 
Your heart breaks upon realizing that at midday, the weather station warned that there was going to be a thunderstorm, with rainfall coming in around this time. You inform Jungkook, and despite all the progress in your relationship, your heart breaks a second time when he says that you should’ve constantly checked, that the weather changes all the time and you should’ve been mindful, and that now you’re both gonna be stuck on the road because he’s unable to drive and you don’t know how to. His tone is harsh, accusatory, as if it was something you could control, as if everything was your fault, just like how it was before.
Jungkook stops on the side of the road as the downpour continues, and he leans his head on the steering wheel now as he takes deep breaths. You tell him he could breathe better if he sits straight up, but he ignores you. 
A part of you wants to remark how it’s ironic that just earlier, he was apologizing for the way he treated you, and now it’s like you’ve both taken a few steps back. You want to say it’s not your fault, that you wouldn’t even have known that the rain affected him this way if you hadn’t seen him be nervous about it when you went home from the gala last year. But you think about the way his eyes looked earlier, how they filled with worry and fear, like there was a sense of powerlessness that you know a little about. 
So you settle for a bit of grace and understanding, thinking they’re what he needs.
“I don’t know why this is on me,” you say softly. “I didn’t know how bad it was but if I did, I would’ve checked constantly and I would’ve had us turn back the second I saw that forecast. And if I could drive, I’d drive us back as fast as I could. I’m sorry.”
He slows his breathing and sits up. His hands still tightly gripping the wheel but his eyes are downcast, and you suppose there’s more sadness than anger, so you stop pressing your nails on your skin, which you’d started doing in anticipation of him arguing with you about it.
“I don’t like the rain,” he shares, his voice low. “I… I have a bad memory of it as a kid and I just get reminded whenever it starts. I panic when it gets louder and I just… I can’t stay out here when that's all I can hear.”
His honesty surprises you. You can’t imagine how it must’ve been like for him, even more that he has to suffer through this right now in front of you, considering how hard it is for him to express how he feels. You don’t know how bad this weather is gonna go, and at this pace, the thunderstorm will probably reach you by the time you make it back to Seoul. So you do what you do best, and that’s to come up with options. 
“There’s a guesthouse not far from here,” you say after checking the map. “It’s the closest one. We could spend the night there and wait out the rain. That’s better than being stuck here or continuing the drive back to the city.”
He nods in agreement, knowing there’s not much he could do. He doesn’t want to be stuck here; even more, he doesn’t want to unload on you nor have you witness how much worse it could be. 
He keys in the address you give him while you call the property and ask if they still have available rooms. They do, so you reserve two and sigh in relief that that’s one problem solved.
You make it there in 15 minutes. Jungkook heads out the car first with the rain having eased up a bit, and you retrieve his luggage from the trunk, the one he keeps there for emergency trips and instances like this one. It has enough clothes for a day, and you’re glad that at least he has something to change into.
You make it inside and meet the owners then introduce yourself, stating that you reserved two rooms. 
“I’m so sorry but we had to give up one of them,” the woman says. “A family came in with a baby and we couldn’t turn them away. The weather’s going to get worse tonight and we try to accommodate as many people as we can. I hope you understand.”
“That’s… that’s okay,” you say, knowing you would’ve done the same. 
The thought of sharing a room with Jungkook feels too intimate and definitely not good for your heart, added to the fact that you’re probably not his favorite person right now, so you try to find a way out. You turn to the living room and see the sofa that’s big enough for you, so you ask if you can just stay there instead.
“Our cleaners will be using that space since they can’t go home due to the rain. I’m sorry again, Miss. Your room has twin beds so I hope that eases your worry somehow.”
“It’s fine, we’ll manage,” Jungkook says from behind you, hoping to the heavens that he will. He has one fear, and that’s you seeing how he really is during times like this.
He takes the key and walks up the stairs to the room you’re given. It’s spacious with a fair enough distance between both beds. He takes the one farther from the window then gets his clothes from his bag. It dawns on him that you don’t have your own with you, so he offers you his sweatshirt. 
“It’s okay,” you shake your head. “It’s gonna be cold and you’re gonna need it.”
“So will you. You can’t be in wet clothes, not in this weather.”
“It’s happened before,” you shrug.
“___, just take it,” he insists, placing the item on your bed. “I have a top here that I can wear and the blankets will be enough. This is loose but it’s at least better than damp clothing. And you can go ahead in the bathroom. I’ll just give Mr. Ri a call.”
You nod and head out, taking his jumper and the towel with you. You’re given some basic toiletries, and the warm shower is just what you need for that bit of comfort after a stressful evening. As you’re about to dress up inside, you hear a knock on the door.
“I asked the lady if they had spare pajamas for you and she gave me a set,” Jungkook says from outside. “I’ll leave them on a stool by the door.”
You wait for him to leave before getting them and putting them on. It’s a plain set of shorts and shirt that’s a little big but it’s way better than your damp skirt and blouse, which the owners offered to wash and dry for you for tomorrow.
You return to the room with Jungkook sitting on the floor, and you give him back his sweatshirt that he turns down. 
“I’m fine,” he insists. “Don’t you get cold easily? You’ll need that.” 
He walks out, barely meeting your eyes. You’re sitting on the edge of your bed when he returns half an hour later, the sight of him with damp hair in black sweatpants and a white sleeveless top doing things to you. But you shake the thoughts away, especially as he once again creates that distance. He doesn’t look at you when he settles in bed, nor when he switches off his bedside light, and definitely not when he turns around to face the other way. You sigh to yourself, feeling even more alone now with him acting like this.
You can’t really blame him though. Dealing with something that elicits painful memories is difficult, and you understand the tendency to isolate yourself and push people away when that happens. It’s what you do sometimes, but still, it doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt you a little when Jungkook does this to you, considering how good your relationship has become, regardless of your stupid attraction.
Settling in your bed, you decide to turn around and face the window. You focus on the droplets creating their own artwork on the glass, in hopes that it’ll help you take your mind off Jungkook, even if he’s literally just a few feet away from you. The last thing you want is a strained relationship, and you hope that this doesn’t make him fall back into his old ways. Although he’s experienced a few stressful moments these past months, they weren’t personal, and you suppose situations like this are when his emotions truly come out.
The rain has gotten stronger again and you’re pleased that Jungkook isn’t awake for this, based on the soft snores you hear. You’re about to fall asleep, the sound hypnotizing you a little, but that’s when the first blare of thunder strikes, causing you to jerk in bed in surprise. It used to scare you because of what it reminded you of, but you learned how to manage it after the first hit; the succeeding ones are no longer triggering. In fact, you just think of how it used to drown out the sounds of what you were truly afraid of.
Just then, you hear distressed moans. The sounds of frantic breathing and shifts on the bed follow right after. And then there’s a restrained groan, like a call for help that doesn’t fully come out, and that’s what alarms you. You immediately get off the bed and rush to Jungkook’s side. You see that he’s still asleep, his body - now uncovered by the blanket - is tense, despite his efforts of turning about. The low sounds of almost-cries convince you that he’s having a nightmare. 
Thunder hits once again and it’s much louder this time, eliciting another frantic response from Jungkook. He’s kicking the covers while gripping the sheets, and with another roar of thunder that causes him to scream, that’s when you decide to wake him up. 
“Jungkook, hey, listen to me,” you say, sitting on the edge of the bed and keeping his head still with your hands. You’re able to control him as he continues tossing and turning, repeating his name until he slowly opens his eyes. “Hey, you’re safe with me, okay? Just focus on my voice.”
He’s awake now and you see the worry in his eyes, but you talk to him calmly, wanting him to trust you. It works, as he nods and slows down his movements. But he’s still breathing heavily, his lips chattering and the rest of his body shivering. 
You anticipate another hit of thunder, and you’re able to shield him from it, pressing your palms on his ears, trying to drown out the sound. You stay that way, thumbing his temples as you tell him it’s okay, that you’ve got him, and that it’ll be over soon. You hold his gaze to let him know that you’re not going anywhere, and his pretty eyes that often look so far away are now overtaken with fear. 
“Just look at me, alright? And follow my breathing,” you instruct him, your voice as gentle as you can make it despite your own worries for him.
He does as you say, his hands gripping your wrists as if to keep them there, and you assure him that you won’t let go until he says so.
“You’re doing good, just keep breathing,” you repeat, pacing your breathing with his until you’re doing it together. 
You don’t know how long you stay that way, with his head between your hands and your eyes locked on his. It takes a while, but the thunder eventually stops and the rain eases. Jungkook finally calms down and you slowly release him from your hold. You watch him shut his eyes, as if in desperation to let everything go, before he opens them again. 
“Is that better?” You ask, moving just a bit farther from him to give him space, but you remain close, wanting to be next to him in case something happens again.
“Yeah, that was, uh… that was tiring,” he huffs.
“I think the thunder has passed but if it happens again, I’ll be here, okay?”
He nods, his soft and desperate eyes now looking at you to express his gratitude. You want so badly to hug him, to hold his still-shaking hands and assure him that he’s not alone, that you won’t let anything hurt him for the rest of the night, and that you understand it all - whatever it is he’s afraid of, and why he keeps it all to himself.
But you suppose that’s going too far. You’re afraid that you’d want to stay there, even more if he doesn’t want you to. So you nod as well and think that he at least has this to comfort him, that he at least knows you’re just there.
You walk back to your bed and lie down, facing him this time. You smile, wanting that assurance to be the last thing he sees before he falls asleep again. Jungkook does the same as he settles under the covers, patting it down so he could see you better. You both stay there, safe in your corners, your eyes telling each other things you can’t say.
Whatever distance you felt earlier has shortened. Right now, with both of you falling asleep to each other’s view, he’s never felt so close.
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The morning after heavy rain is always bittersweet. There’s the reality of the damage it caused but you also can’t deny that it gives life to other living things. What it also does is make way for clear skies and give you that fresh, rainwater scent of the grass and the trees. It’s what you see and smell when you open the bedroom windows, reminding you that the evening has passed and the worst is over. 
You spot Jungkook seated on one of the chairs in the garden, and you hope that the view is making him feel better, with the nightmare from last night slowly drifting away from his mind. You dress up in the dry clothes you find hanging on the doorknob of the room then head downstairs, surprised to see food prepared in the dining area. The tofu stew and grilled mackerel are so appetizing, and the loud rumbling of your stomach reminds you that you didn’t eat last night, with all the stress making dinner your last priority.
“Hello, dear. It was a pretty hard evening so we prepared something for our guests,” the owner says, her radiant smile reflecting the brightness of the day. ���You may call your friend outside so you can both eat and get ready for a long drive home.”
You thank her then call Jungkook, his eyes brightening when he walks back inside and sees the food. He engages in conversation with the owners, asking about this town and the surrounding ones, and what their appeal is to non-residents. You gauge that he’s doing a bit of research himself, and you think he’s at least not too out of it to still do so.
“You’re free to stay until noon,” the owner informs you. “You can enjoy the view outside; it’s really pretty now that the sky has cleared. I’ll be making tea shortly as well.”
Jungkook says he’ll return to the garden and you wait for the hot drinks before following him. You’re unsure if he wants you around but you try, sitting next to him then sighing in relief when he doesn’t move away.
“I was 10 years old when my parents sent me and my brother to a cabin somewhere in Hwasun,” he starts. “I thought they were coming with us but it was just me and Jeong-sik and some staff. He and I never got along. If he wasn’t ignoring me, he was teasing me. But that day, he convinced me to play hide-and-seek, saying that by the time he finds me, our parents would be back. We were outdoors and I ended up wandering too far, so close to the woods that I couldn’t find my way back. My brother hadn’t come and I was getting scared. And then it started to rain.”
“Jungkook, you don’t have to—”
“It started getting stronger and the skies had become so dark, I could barely see anything,” he continues, his eyes fixed towards the mountains faraway. “The rain made the ground slippery so I decided to just sit by a large tree and hope someone would find me. It felt like hours and maybe it was. The thunder was so loud then and it kept going and going and going. And I was drenched and all alone, and no matter how hard I screamed, no one could hear me.”
“I’m so sorry, Jungkook,” you say, feeling your heart break as he narrates a painful memory that you can relate with. 
It’s only close to what you experienced yet it feels so real to you. You can feel his fear and his pain in the tremble of his voice, in the way he grips on the edges of the bench, in the way his jaw clenches at the memory, like it’s one he’s tried hard to bury yet can’t get rid of, no matter how hard he tries. 
But this feels so personal, and you don’t want him to feel like he needs to share it with you.
“You don’t have to explain,” you add. “I know it’s difficult to share something like that.”
“But I want to,” he responds, turning to you now. “Because I’ve carried the memory with me for 20 years and I’ve been dealing with it all on my own. But that’s not an excuse to treat you the way I did last night. That’s not a reason for me to take it out on you and especially to blame you. That was wrong of me and I’m sorry, ___. I…”
He looks down, perhaps trying to gather the courage he needs to be honest with you, to be vulnerable with you.
“I don’t want you to think that I didn’t need you because I did,” he adds. “I was scared and I didn’t think I needed you but you were there and I’m so sorry.”
You sit there and watch him cower onto himself, and somehow you see the little boy who was scared, who was wondering why he’d been left alone, who was waiting for someone to come find him or perhaps… someone to sit there and be with him until the rain stopped. There’s a lot he carries; there’s also a lot he buries, as if there’s a bottomless hole within him where he keeps everything hidden but it still feels too heavy, too much, taking from him every time he hides something new. 
You don’t say anything for a while, as you start to see Jungkook for who he really is. You feel the weight of his words and how much it took for him to say them. It’s not that his experience makes him different, but now that you know the pain he’s been carrying with him, you’re able to see the other parts of him that he’s unable to show, perhaps too afraid that someone wouldn’t understand, or that they wouldn’t stay if they found out why he keeps his distance and why he pushes people away.
Your silence prompts him to look up. You meet his eyes and see the sadness in them and it feels like he needs more than just forgiveness.
“We do things we don’t mean to when we’re afraid,” you tell him. “It doesn’t always mean we intend on hurting them. And I understand that, more than you know. I’ll never take that against you.”
Jungkook nods, shifting again towards the view as he lets your words sink in. He was hoping for forgiveness, but he got so much more. Maybe there’s a reason why you’ve been patient and gentle with him ever since the beginning. Perhaps you’re carrying your own burden and painful memories that you’re unable to share and deal with, too, and though he’s nothing like you, there’s comfort in knowing that you’re the same somehow.
He senses you turn back to look at the mountains, and the silence prompts him to continue the story of an experience he’s only shared twice before - once to his best friends and another time with Chaerin, all of whom have seen this side of him - the scared and vulnerable side. They were understanding and supportive as well, trying to find ways to comfort and help him deal with it. You’re the third and the one he’s known the shortest time, yet he feels more comfort with you than anyone who’s ever tried.
“I fell asleep at that tree while waiting,” he recalls. “The next thing I know, I was being carried back to the cabin. The rain had stopped but it was still dark, and I was tended to until I fell asleep again. I was sick for days and I didn’t see my parents until we were back in Seoul. It’s just a hard thing to remember. I know we have selective memories and I always wish that’s one thing that I don’t ever have to remember but life isn’t that kind, I guess.”
“It isn’t. But we learn to face those fears though, and manage them. It’s the only way we can get through it,” you say.
“Have you?” He asks, wondering if that’s another similarity he shares with you. 
“Not really. I wouldn’t be alone and where I am if I have,” you say. “But I’m trying. And I’ll continue to.”
“That makes one of us,” he sighs. 
“Well, it’s not always easy if you’re not quite sure what you’re really afraid of,” you respond. “Is it just thunder?”
“Yeah… but once the rain starts, it tells me that thunder could come. It doesn’t always but it’s what my brain tells me. Then I get anxious and I… I don’t know what to do. Like I’m paralyzed and unable to think or move. I just… stay there and sometimes, I don’t even know what’s happening.”
“Well, it rained when I got injured,” you remind him. “But you managed to get me to the hospital. And you stayed with me. That’s definitely something.”
“You were hurt and it was more important that you got treated,” he reasons. “That was scary and I guess my brain told me to get shit done that moment.”
“So… do I always have to be hurt for you to get through the rain when it starts getting bad?” You ask.
“Don’t talk like that. I can’t have you going through that again,” he frowns at you. 
The way he reacts to the thought of you being hurt gives you that warm feeling again. But it reminds you that you feel the same. You don’t want him to be scared, you don’t want him hurt, too.
“Fine. But when it starts to rain and you’re all alone and you feel like you can’t manage, you call me, okay?” You tell him.
“And what would that do?”
“That way I can talk you through it. Maybe go to you if you want me to.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Because during the times I was afraid and alone, you were there,” you bravely say, turning to him and prompting him to do the same. “Sometimes something triggers those memories but then I think of how you stayed with me in the alley and in the playground and in my apartment. I think of you and I stop feeling scared. Maybe you can think of last night when it starts to get bad, too. And we can just create more of those memories to override the bad ones. Wouldn’t that be better?”
He savors your words, not realizing how much you’ve held onto your moments together. And he understands that now. The way you held him together last night is ingrained in his mind, and if that’s how it feels to be with you during his darkest moments, he starts to wonder how good it would feel during the good ones.
Maybe he’ll start with this, as you both sip citrus tea while looking at the lush mountains out on the horizon. He’ll continue with the scenic drive back to Seoul and a stopover at a cafe for some iced coffee and conversations about good memories. And at least for today, he’ll end with the sight of you walking to your apartment and then turning around to wave him goodbye, and then your smile giving him warmth on this cold afternoon.
The door shuts and he starts the trip back to his place - empty, lonely, just like how it’s been for years, all his pent up emotions bringing him to this point of isolation. But there’s you - the feel of your touch, the soothing sound of your voice, and the gentleness that got him through the night.
He misses you already. And much as he knows he’s in big trouble, thinking about you and wanting you is all he could do.
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greyedian · 19 days ago
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uh oh part 2: I just read House on Emberflit Alley and... man I need to stop reading this stuff, bc it's just genuinely good. It's like... retroactively ruining the only storyline in s2 that I kinda liked :(
uh oh chat I just read Viktor and Jayce's league bios and I like it more than what season 2 did with them... like A LOT more
#sooooo much lost potential its making me so unbelievably sad :( league lore version of Viktor honestly fucking rules i love him#we couldve had an actual jayv1k divorce and not just 'oh im gonna leave now bc reasons??'#murder attempts bc of actual ideological differences???#and it wouldve been so beautifully tragic bc of all the setup their relationship got in s1! in the show they genuinely liked each other!#while in the og lore they only seem to respect each other based on their intellect right? personality wise they didnt really get along?#i think having s1 viktor turn into this version of himself wouldve been sooo interesting bc they showed a lot of his good natured humanity#in s1 that he wouldve ironically had to give up on to pursue his greater goal. exploring how he would get there wouldve been so cool#and along with that you couldve easily driven a more believable wedge between him and Jayce that expands on their bridge argument#the difference in ideology on science they have in regular lore is so interesting. i personally can see where both are coming from#and how they got to their conclusions based on their origins and social status. it wouldve fit so well with the main zaun/piltover conflict#viktor always wanted to help the ppl of zaun and considering what the fuck cait was doing to it youd think he would like... give a shit??#the jayv1k ending might not even have to be that different bc its pretty obvious viktors emotion suppression lobotomy didnt work completely#especially when it comes to jayce#im not a writer by any means but i think thematically the s1 and game lore for them meshes really well?#idk why they just... didnt really do anything with it??#as ever im just... so confused. and sad.#hiding this in tags bc as per usual i never know whether or not im even making sense or just waffling around#i just needed to organize my thoughts on it a little dont mind me. ok byeee <3#arcane spoilers#in the tags lol just a bit
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starsworldd · 1 year ago
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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐚𝐮𝐫𝐮𝐬-𝐒𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐢𝐨 𝐚𝐱𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐬
PLEASE READ:
long post - thank you for 2k! i apologize for the wait but this took me a longggg time to prepare.
it’s also important to note that planets in taurus/scorpio will effect how you resonate with the interpretations below
reminder that readings are open! i’m now selling persona chart readings of planets/angles as well
take with a grain of salt
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1st (scorpio) - 7th (taurus)❤️: relationships are a source of comfort and wisdom. scorpio risings’ experience of reality has to do with trust, hard truths, and taking back your power but their relations with others often bring a sense of peace and value into their lives. people may perceive you to be useful and smart in these similar qualities as well. your partnerships help to balance out the chaos and even insecurity you face at times with your identity and precense in the world
2nd (scorpio) - 8th (taurus) ❤️‍🔥: you are powerful in your resources/skills and in the way you support yourself overall. in this lifetime, how you find worth and appreciation for yourself and what you have (skills, physical resources, etc…). you may feel suppressed or face much controversy for what you value or for how you choose to support yourself monetary-wise or as a person. your biggest comeback story in life may have to do with self-esteem and with how you accumulate worth and value (physical or moral/mental) into your life and goals.
although there may be much turbulence and important realizations/truths that are found in how you support yourself and your goals, the transformations and scary things you face in life ironically enough can bring you lots of support if you choose to make good use out of it (which taurus is naturally good at). of course, this is the house of fears and traumas so a big part of your life story may include building your own sense of independence by learning from times of distress.
3rd (scorpio) - 9th (taurus) 💋: you could be especially sensitive to input from others and be able to pick up undertones and double meanings from others easily. communication, creativity (especially having to do with hands or written words), is your superpower. you grab others’ attention easily with your stories and artistic output when you learn to harness your fears/limitations effectively. this also makes you very intelligent of your community + gossip because scorpio rules over extremes as well
while in your everyday communication and daily life you may uncover and discuss skeleton’s in other people’s closet and may be doing a lot of activities that use a lot of your energy (scorpio is ruled by mars, planet of action), this makes you very comfortable (taurus) in being able to adapt to different environments and perspectives (9th house). having taurus in this house can make someone very wise because they find value and meaning in variety.
4th (scorpio) - 10th (taurus) 💄: people with scorpio in this house have usually had some sort of significant event or trauma regarding their family or childhood or may have regrets as to their actions in the past. these people could be born out of either extreme poverty or wealth too. these people’s sense of safety/privacy can be very important to them or they could feel like this aspect of their life is being compromised often (mars = conflict) but you could also find safety/comfort in curiousity or things that are “off-limits”.
if the private/emotional life of the native is exacerbated and transformative for them the career and reputation for the native is where they feel appreciated and most creative. having these signs in this house-axis can be indicative of a strong comeback story (extreme poverty to extreme wealth or even the other way around). the career-field can be very fulfilling (emotionally or monetary wise) and where you are grateful or feel lucky for the events your work presents.
5th (scorpio) - 11th (taurus) 🌹: feelings of creativity, romance, and happiness are taken to extreme lows and highs throughout life. if you’re a cancer rising, i believe this is where the “moody” reputation for us comes from. like leo rising, there could have been significant changes or revelations during childhood that changed your way of deriving happiness and familial support. these people may crave for luxury and overindulgence and can do so by turning their pain into power. scorpio in this house can make someone very grateful as well.
if our sense of happiness and luck undergoes significant change and gives us our “comebacks” throughout life, the 11th house is where we have already found peace and prosperity with our place in society. we encounter valuable experiences when polishing our individualism (5th) within our community (11th). we can find personal contentment and growth in accepting our individual, unique role amongst the people around us. you may like to surround yourself with confident people as well.
6th (scorpio) - 12th (taurus) 👠: these people can feel very unlucky or trapped throughout life, with the 6h ruling bad luck + burdens and scorpio relating to extremes. scorpio is a smart zodiac i’ve noticed as well, so these people usually have a certain way (especially that requires much energy) of doing their work and job that could defy others’ expectations. extreme focus on a certain obstacle or insecurities is also possible and can take awhile to finally figure out what makes you feel secure and satisfied with how you manage your burdens.
if your everyday burdens and responsibilities test your strength to the max in this lifetime, your imagination, creativity and solitude is where you find peace. it could also be that these people do unusual things to satisfy their need for pleasure and wholeness, because the 12th house is where we are easily misled. these people are internally comfortable with their thoughts and ideas, regardless of how odd they may be because it takes them to a place of stability from their scorpio 6h.
7th (scorpio) - 1st (taurus) 🍒: these natives’ partnerships/commitments make the native have to look more deeply into their underlying intentions or feelings with said partnerships/commitment. this can bring a lot of disturbing but also very eye-opening and insightful experiences that affects the native’s identity and ambitions going forth. scorpio can also be a curious sign so there can be a little bit of investigative or persistent approach to your partnerships and this is where your power can derive from.
it may seem like your partnerships “destroy” parts of your identity, because you approach the world from a sense of wholeness and peace. at least, these are circumstances that you are ambitious to achieve in your life. pleasure and steadiness are big life themes and at first it may seem like life is rather dull or boring, but similar to scorpio in its opposite function, taurus asks us to dig a little deeper into the simpler things in life and to find enjoyment.
8th (scorpio) - 2nd (taurus) 🍫: when dealing with other people’s problems (financially, intimate connection, debts, etc…) it brings about experiences that require you to fix what’s wrong or holding you back in life in rather uncomfortable ways. this can indicate someone who is afraid to acknowledge psychological blockages or who lacks the necessary bravery/instincts to attack underlying problems. you could earn valuable assets (tangible or not) from others when you engage with activities that are “gross” but healing/heroic.
this native survives on feeling complete. having a sense of wholeness is very important to these people and makes these people very resourceful because they are able to make the seemingly mundane valuable and able to work in their favor. these people are good at feeling in control of their life, future, and choices because they are committed and secure in their abilities. these people place much importance on authenticity, diversity, and self-sufficiency.
9th (scorpio) - 3rd (taurus) ❤️: when achieving mastery/global knowledge, and self-discovery it may have to do with bringing up topics that you ignored or swept under the rug especially having to do with your identity/precense (in context of the world and society). your global approach and experiences have to do with dealing uncomfortable topics in order to achieve better awareness and understanding of all aspects of the world. how you navigate foreign environments and your sense of flexibility is your strength.
if foreign experiences provide you with strength through perseverance, your intuition and familiar environments provide you with strength through growth (tangible or not). although it may seem like the everyday social rituals and ideas (including intuition), can appear mundane, this setup of houses gives an opportunity to grow a garden that provides roots, beauty, and good taste in the way you perceive and express yourself local environments.
10th (scorpio) - 4th (taurus) 🪭: these people have to have a ton of intiative when working in their career and towards their big goals in life. it may feel as though these people have to start from a bad hand of cards (compared to everybody else) in order to make it to the top or that their working conditions and/or responsibilities throughout life may feel difficult to complete or deals with high stakes/status. but even though there are difficult tasks they have to be done and you have drive/resourcefulness to do it!!
if the workplace is where you see the thorns in your garden (where you have to get rid of them) your home life and condition is where you see the roses. taurus is good at being able to attract good circumstances for themselves because taurus is very representative of wholeness and the feeling of completion. there’s probably more opportunities for you to setup and manage your domestic life the way you like. wisdom may be found through your domestic life too.
11th (scorpio) - 5th (taurus) 🧨: your surrounding communities/people who support you seem to try to pick you apart. you may feel as if the people who you’re around with don’t actually support you or that there’s something incomplete or “wrong” with the circumstances and people that made you successful, imposter syndrome possibly? your supporters/friends could show you things you couldn’t see before, likely for the better although they may reveal this in dramatic or difficult circumstances.
if you feel incomplete about the people/circumstances that support your public achievements, your creativity and lust for life is where you find contentment. these people feel most stable and appreciated for their talents and way of enjoying themselves. for these people, they find stability, growth, and satisfaction when they engage with activities that bring them happiness. they find beauty and appreciation from others for their self-expression/creatvity.
12th (scorpio) - 6th (taurus) ♠️: your drive to feel complete is what can you mislead you in life. this may be because you feel as if there’s always something missing or not being to shown to you but you are persistent in finding what that something is. this same energy can make the native very wise because they have to overcome their demons over and over again throughout life. but at the same time, you could also feel like your sense of resourcefulness and strength fails to manifest in reality.
if there’s conflict/determination in trying to protect yourself from things that induce bad energy, then there’s likely to be tranquility and acceptance in doing activities that can put your life back on track. the 6h is known as the house of bad fortune in astrology so these people are good at being able to find the most reliable way out of a difficult situation. and while these natives could be good at finding solutions, slacking off and overindulgence can lead to oversight with tasks.
once again thank you for 2k!
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hope you enjoyed🥰
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jin0 · 6 months ago
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TENNIS SUCKS AND SO DO YOU [Tashi Duncan, Patrick Zweig, Art Donaldson]
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Summary : You were better off without them, you said for a decade despite seeing them every fucking where, all the fucking time. You were better than them, you said as you did the same shit they did and enjoyed it all the same.
Pairing : Art Donaldson x Patrick Zweig x Tashi Duncan x Reader, Tashi Duncan x Patrick Zweig, Art Donaldson x Tashi Duncan, Patrick Zweig x Art Donaldson
Warning : +18, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT !, angst, canon injury, canon conniving, cheating, manipulation, drug abuse, alcohol abuse, tennis mentioned, rude language, cussing, foursome kinda, slight ball worship, pussy worship, vaginal sex (p in v), sadness, rehab mentioned, homelessness, gaslighting, genuinely everyone sucks here, no one is mentally stable and should be trusted.
A/N : enjoy
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As it had turned out, it had been way easier for you to admit the sick pleasure you got out of witnessing the downfall of the people you had loved for so long. Being easy to admit did not make it any less painful if you were being honest. Loving them the way you did, the way only you could since your college days made the situation just as sad as it had been cathartic.
You witnessed from the sidelines how Patrick, Tashi and Art’s old ways returned even after eleven years to tear them apart the way it had initially years prior. You still remembered how you used to be, it wasn’t hard they hadn’t changed a bit. Not even the way they looked at each other.
Outsiders would speculate on the nature of the relationship which had sparked fire in the media, two old best friends meeting again at a random challenger while one’s ‘wife’ cheered louder than she had ever been seen cheering. Some would assume the worst out of Tashi while some would pity her for being the stand in to Art’s internalized homophobia. Maybe other’s would hit the nail right on the head and guess that the three might share deep feelings for each other but the would never go further in the guesses, ironically respectful of the privacy of the three people the would spend weeks speculating on, expecting some form of answer at some point.
In the midst if all of this, you would remain. Alone but never lonely, alone and changed for the better while they simmered in their own toxicity, pulling at each other’s strings to bring the worst out of each other in hopes to come out on top, come out the best at the game of honesty they played in a pathetic attempt at convincing the others that they were the ones to say the truth the two others refused to admit to, while simultaneously keeping a lifetime’s worth of secrets.
You would remain, forever in love with them, enough to leave without a goodbye or a look back while they grew like trees in soiled dirt, intertwined but resentful of one another.
You hadn’t been able to watch the end of the match, content with watching Patrick and Art hug for the first time in about a decade. It was funny to you, really. How they had managed to part for so long when Patrick had loved Art first, loved him the way you had loved Tashi first. You all ended up falling in love, you with Art next. Patrick was a little more difficult to like. He was a cunt. And truth be told, so were you. But in their psyche, you lived as kindness personified, because at the root, you were what they aspired to reach when claiming a false sense of honesty.
You were the good ripped out of them by a forceful departure they could not have done a thing about.
You were kind and overly intelligent, academically and emotionally, doubled with a talent that made you all the more terrifying. To understand you was a struggle because all you said could be taken as exactly what it was. In the world of pompous etiquette and manners, you lived above and below it all. Born in a lower class family, you never feared to admit that your goal had always been to climb you way up until you reached what you wanted to reach. It was unclear to you and to them for a while so coaxing it out of you was useless, you didn’t know much about what you wanted, or at least, verbalizing it would be difficult. You aimed to climb, all on your own, through your own power and possibilities. Fucking Tashi Duncan was just for fun.
She wasn’t meant to be a tool in your machine, and frankly, she would’ve been a useless one too, you weren’t a tennis player. Maybe that was what had made your deep friendship so difficult to understand. People speculated that you used her for her money and status, which would make sense if your natural predator wasn’t a tennis racket and a ball. You just couldn’t play tennis for shit. And at first she would call you an idiot for trying when you clearly sucked. A friendship had blossomed when you had responded by successfully hitting a ball right past her head. You sucked at tennis but you had great aim it seemed.
You had reached Stanford on a scholarship, and artistic scholarship funded by a bunch of wealthy families, counting the Zweig and Donaldson families. You danced ballet initially but the possibilities had evolved so you did more than ballet or than dancing. It didn’t really matter honestly why you were at Stanford, the point is that you were there with them and sometimes only for them.
Again, it had started with Tashi, simple stuff really, hugs here and there turning into hugs everywhere. And hand holding which had also turned into waist holding. And the sleepovers were you started from standing at opposite sides of the room to sitting on each other and sleeping with each other in the same bed. Everything just kept escalating. Came a time were it was normal for you both to be showering together or to kiss each other’s cheeks in public. You were best friends with a little bit more on the side.
The speculation were inevitable really, but then came Patrick and Art. Things had been complicated to explain or understand but it did make sense to you four at least.
The night she had been invited to their hotel room, they hadn’t expected her to bring a friend. You didn’t really understand what she had wanted to prove, if she had wanted to prove anything at all but you knew that you didn’t really mind. A public would never bother you.
You had always been pretty obedient to her words, even more when she had her fingers inside you. When she had called you to sit on her lap while they sat on the floor, you had obeyed, climbing on top of her and zipping down your compressor shirt. You could feel their eyes on you, burning through your skin in hopes to see your breast the way Tashi could. When you two had started to make out, you wanted to laugh, hearing Art’s little gasp loud and clear. He was way easier to get worked up than Patrick. But Patrick was a slut so it made sense.
You had stopped her, pulling away with your tongue lolling out of your mouth as you attempted to regain your composure before pointing at them.
“Shouldn’t they be participating ?” You had said, amusing Tashi who patted the space next to her for you to sit. Again, you obeyed but kept a hand between her thighs while she kissed your forehead. Art and Patrick had stared at each other before Patrick rushed to sit next to you and Art next to her.
The rest was history. A long, tedious and sometimes painful history which at started really, the moment Art asked you out. You expected him to go to Tashi, and he had before asking the two of you. It was easy to love Art, the same as you loved your girl. Patrick though, it had been lust for a long time, a very long time before you accepted that he loved you and that you loved him too. You two couldn’t stop taking shots at one another you at his pathetic love for Art and him at you for being poor. Those were easy and no amount of venom in your voices could ever male you say words you didn’t mean. He was bitter at you for having Art and you at him for having Tashi, you were the same really but you would always say you had bigger balls that him because at least you unequivocally had both in all senses while he struggled to even have one.
You remembered how in a drunken admission he confessed hating you for being the romantic failure to his success, something he couldn’t bear knowing that he wanted to fuck you with all the love and adoration you ignited in his soul. He was glad to have his wish granted, waking up the next morning with you on top of him, sleeping soundly, more silent than you had ever been in your life with him around.
Then began the greatest love story never told, fueled by unyielding passion and love that transcended. Maybe the end could’ve been predicted. You loved too much with too much honesty for three people who convinced themselves that tennis was their only true love. You were okay with that, you knew it was a cover-up, a protection from the unpredictability of human feelings and relationships. You didn’t feel like covering up anything, not when you simply loved.
To you it made sense, to them it was a little more difficult, and the difficulty kept increasing slowly as everything rapidly turned to shit. One day it was all four of you, the next, Art didn’t love you anymore, not enough to share Tashi but enough to still crave your very existence like air. He was done sharing with Patrick too, something about having to admit to himself that he did love the man more than a best friend didn’t work in his mind.
They had all began getting into each other’s minds planting seeds of jealousy and doubt in a vicious cycle where they all made each other worst than worst itself. Then Tashi got hurt, and Patrick wasn’t there but Art was so she blamed the brunette while the blond rejoiced as he finally reached the sense of normalcy he had craved through monogamy. And where were you in all of this ? Left behind. You didn’t play tennis but you loved them so you thought it would be enough, it wasn’t. You couldn’t understand, they said. Tashi would never play like she used to or as she was destined to ever. And since Art was there, he would be the talent that prevailed and lived. Patrick, he couldn’t care less about you when he was loosing the two people who really mattered to him.
You had been disposed of in a matter of weeks, a useless, bothersome artefact found in the dirt and throw back in the dirt when you had stopped being fun. You would’ve never understood what it felt like to lose the very thing that one thought of when thinking of Love, yet you could’ve tried, you would’ve tried for them, for her.
Patrick was the first who should’ve gone, almost forcefully thrown out of the apartment you had all started sharing, ironically owned by his family. He lost the home of his heart and chose to give away his house too. But Patrick being Patrick, he refused to leave, stubborn and smug, he opted to stay and keep trying. He knew tennis and Tashi’s love for tennis. He had felt that love for a certain blond boy he had lost too.
With his stay, he formed a side, his own, while Tashi and Art formed another. They fought, regularly, everyday almost, about the same things and a multitude of little other things that they had never voiced prior to the incident. Because they were too ‘kind’ to speak up, but mean enough to use it as ammunition in petty arguments.
They fought about almost anything frankly and you, you disappeared, left off in the background, dissipating like sand, washed away by the sea and forgotten. You didn’t need to get involved they said. Yet you did, because you loved all three and maybe it was selfish but you still held onto the hope that they loved you too, enough to support you in your own moments.
But that was before the Patrick you had learned to love forced you with the brutal reality of things.
You fell. During a rehearsal, you fell, badly enough to hurt you foot and possibly for a little while. It wasn’t broken nor was it permanently damaged, you would heal quickly, you just had to be taken to the hospital to be given the necessary information on how to recover. You would also need to be taken home, you physically couldn’t walk. You called and called and called, calling about a hundred times with no answer from any of them. You ended up staying at the hospital for two days before deciding that you didn’t want to stay more so you left, on foot, which you shouldn’t have done. You had crutches, you thought, so this would be fine. It was at the end, your foot was fine, your soul though, not so much.
After two days in the hospital, you had returned home to another fight between the three. You were tired so you stayed silent until they took notice of you, standing there in silence. Weirdly enough, that seemed to aggravate them further, leading to sighs of anger and looks of disgust, as if you were the cause of all of this, all their issues and frankly all the issues in the world. Unused the first and last fight you were apart of.
It was about you not being there, you always running when things got hard for Tashi, running away because you couldn’t be the center of attention anymore when Tashi would be the priority. You didn’t really process much if what was thrown your way, too busy trying to defend yourself in vain. It didn’t matter really, whatever you said, it wouldn’t matter not when for the first time in weeks both Fire and Ice agreed on something while Tashi looked at you with the kind of hatred you’d never seen in her eyes before. All three finally agreed on something and it seemed it was on how much they couldn’t stand you.
“It’s fucking pathetic how low you’d go to feel like you matter to us. Let me make this abundantly clear, your presence here is only because of Tashi. The interest we have in you is only because of Tashi. Any amount of interest we have in you is because of Tashi. You don’t even matter to yourself outside of her.” How said Patrick bitterly. He looked disgusted by the very sight of you and his words translated about just as much venom as his gaze.
He walked up to you, still standing at the same spot you had been in since you had entered the room to walk in on them fighting once again. You hadn’t moved and now you were paralyzed by humiliation, as if even breathing would be a stain on their glory. You were going through it again in a matter of seconds. Years of improvement on your self worth all going down the drain because of three people.
You watched him with teary eyes as he stepped up to you, entering your personal space so that you could see properly how much he meant his next words.
“We barely tolerate you without tennis, but how much do you think we’d like you if Tashi hadn’t pulled you in like a necessary condition for her presence around ?”
You said still, to ashamed to cry or to breath, almost heaving from the ball of air stuck in your throat. You said as stoic as you could all while keeping your tears at bay. He chuckled while staring at you, false amusement to hide how annoyed he was with your presence here. You tried to look towards Art, who looked away, face indifferent as he silently agreed to his ex best friend’s words while your own best friend stared blankly at you then at your foot before getting up and leaving.
You weren’t one to stay where you weren’t wanted, so when they left to chase after Tashi, you took that as an opportunity to pack your stuff and leave. All that was left behind were the stuff you wouldn’t outwardly need or could ask a friend, if you had any left, to help you get.
In that moment you felt your luckiest despite the circumstances, your lack of relationship to tennis making it easy to rely on someone who wouldn’t be asking thousands of questions on why you were now excluded from the little group who’d been ruling the minds and hearts of about every student on campus. For the rest of the semester, you moved in with a friend from your dance studio, friend who quickly became your greatest form of support, pushing you to get back up and become the best dancer you’d ever been.
For the first time, you felt what Tashi meant when she said tennis would be her greatest love, you understood her drive to not just be a player among the lot but the player who stood above the masses effortlessly yet with lots of efforts. The rumors quickly spread, your separation from the group raising questions that you were too busy to answer, spending about every second of every hour dancing and improving your artistic skill while slowly letting the three people you had loved turn into distant figures in your rearview mirror.
The longing glances in the lecture halls and silent please turned into quick looks in their direction, acknowledging their presences before going back to what you were doing, before soon, watching it turn into nothing. You stopped looking, feeling their eyes on your before shutting down the instinct which you had lead to you them in crowds of thousands so many times before. Before you knew it, you brushed passed them, your scent burning through their being like the softest of caress and the sharpest of slaps while you simply didn’t notice them. You had stopped trying to ignore them and made them presence part lf everyone, barely noticeable.
Your dancing got better, just like your heart and your other talent. You divested into other areas of artistic expression, soon stepping out of Stanford to be known all over the world for your incredible voice and the amazing performances that went with it. You filled concert halls like one would fill their lungs with air and sold albums like no other. Your passion and devotion for your craft quickly became known all over the world, impossible to miss as your face appeared on Billboards and your voice resonated through radios. You got busy with like and you weren’t the only one.
You knew about Tashi and Art’s wedding, catching wind of it from friends you had made in college. It didn’t surprise you much, she could handle Art better. What had surprised you was for Fire to Part from Ice and vice versa, both disappearing from each other’s life. It wasn’t news that neither really deeply like to share, ironic considering the circumstances. You had found out about their daughter too, Lily, cute name. Art had probably picked it. Tashi would’ve named her ‘Tennis Donaldson’ if she could. Tennis Duncan even. She loved tennis too much, it had started to exasperate you, but inly slightly. You understood. You lived dancing just the same. Just healthily. You could see through the mist, watching her live vicariously through her darling husband he played for her. He lost the passion he had for the sport, but he had lost more.
You didn’t know what had happened to Patrick, or at least you feigned ignorance. You didn’t give a fuck about that little bitch. But watching him die wouldn’t be fun. You knew about the heroin addiction and about the alcoholism. It was known before during college and it had stopped briefly while you dated, keeping only the smoking. He had drifted from them, too busy getting fucked up on whatever he could get his sticky fingers on while fucking whoever he could get to give him shelter for the night. Being a crackhead was expensive and even Patrick Zweig couldn’t afford it, it seemed. You knew he lived in his car and tried to revive his dead tennis career every chance he got. He was embarrassing to be frank, but you couldn’t turn your back on him when you knew he could pick up a handgun any day and write your name in big bold letters out of spite for the amount of time he called and you refused to answer before choosing to block his number. The junky ex boyfriend trope was getting tired and the sex was good back in the days but never enough to entertain his mess of a life. And to be frank, you had grown to be just as spiteful and petty as they were, the wound of the past still fresh in your heart despite the decade of separation.
Over the last years, you had crossed his path about five times and each time you found him in a outer body state, off on whatever he had gotten his hands on but definitely not water. Each time you crossed him, you remembered the words he had said to you, ears prior, noting the irony of how he had turned out now that he was alone. It was sad, honestly, Art had been a beacon to him, Tashi too. But both found mutual benefits in each other, Tashi getting to live through her husband while Art got to live through the fantasy that he didn’t regularly got of on his best friends cock rubbing against his.
You, you were just collateral, too easy to love yet too mysterious to understand. You were like the easiest puzzle never solved to them, an equation on love and lust all packed in one basic formula that was so easy that it felt like a trap. People relying on toxicity to feel alive sabotaged shit like that, the easy shit that wasn’t meant to be overly painful. You’d been too easy, so you could be disposed of ln on the basis of an argument where you just didn’t fit anymore when the truth is that you fit in way to easily with each without having to give anything tangible. You weren’t bringing shit to their worlds but yourself yet you were indispensable.
And being indispensable, surprisingly, wasn’t sufficient to them.
~
The first time Patrick saw you again after the separation was in the street. Which street he can’t say, he’s not even certain he saw you for real seeing as that night he was high on whatever had been sitting in his car and a 4 dollar bottle of vodka from the corner store. His car slash home wasn’t too far, less than ten steps away, yet he couldn’t reach it. First he couldn’t fucking find his keys and on top of that, he had felt in a cheery mood, deciding to down half the bottle right outside the store. He was in a mood to celebrate, the news of Tashi and Art’s divorce plaguing his mind like the sweetest of highs.
In his sick mind, the man still lived the fantasy that he and Art were the same or that they could be, true rivals from the same place, both drastically changed by their circumstances but still and forever Fire and Ice. He wanted to believe that well in his thirties he still had a shot. He could still do this, get to reach the same level of stardom and face off his best friend and lover once again. He was insane, and slightly pathetic like that but the news made the possibility even greater in his mind.
Tashi and Art had been a unit of destruction he could’ve never truly beat, not on his own, yet he still dreamt and rightfully so. Because now, both members of the unit were parting ways and what better way to conquer than to divide ? She had done it, years prior, Art fully participating despite his seemingly innocent demeanor.
In the midst of his celebration, he had, once again, forgotten to exercise restraint and had drunken enough to stumble into an alley all alone, falling face first in a puddle of water. In his inebriated state, even felt the weight of his exhaustion, weirdly falling down all at once on his shoulders.
He was so out of it, he hadn’t noticed your figure almost floating towards his body before seeing you crouched down next to him. You started at him just like he did you, both quiet for a second before he cut the silence with a chuckle, you, on the other hand were less than amused, stoic and silent face dark as you watched him, probably gloating to see him in such a state.
“Are you real ?” Was all he had said, waiting for a response which had never came.
It was almost vicious how he could barely make out the walls around him yet could perfectly distinguish the features of your face. It hadn’t changed, fuck you were so pretty.
The rest was a blur of soft touches and movements he could understand. All he knew was that you had spoken to him, telling him to not drink and to cut the heroin. He had nodded, obedient and shameful as a result of his words from the past.
When he had woken up the next day, he was surprised to be in a bed, comfy and warm covers. Parts of him dreamt it was her house. It wasn’t. It wouldn’t never be, not if she had a say on it at least.
You had driven him to rehab, leaving without a word or a note for him to understand. He didn’t know much other than the fact that you had paid for him to stay there for six months and then maybe he could leave. You had even paid more to make sure that the establishment accepted him despite her not being a relative or anything like that. Top quality facility that would have him bust his ass off trying to get clean, and not just off the drugs but also the alcohol.
He didn’t know anything, he just felt like it was you who had been the generous donator to pay for him to get clean. The lady at the front desks and the doctor in charge of him were only told one thing that had a seemingly smug but actually hopeful grin stretching his lips.
“I don’t want anything really, it’s more for him. Maybe, if he gets better in his head, he’ll actually get to be good at tennis again.”
It was mean, you were mean, mostly to him. But he knew better. You both had a habit of disagreeing so whenever he’d shit on himself, you’d join him and suddenly he was bathed in the confidence of the universe. Ironically, it never worked the other way around.
He stayed, all six months though, per the doctors and therapist, he wouldn’t need to. He could’ve left after the forth month. They had a tennis court to help him work a bit so he chose to stay. Even made friends. But he stayed, the whole time. Out of respect for you in some ways but also because he wanted to see how well he’d do. If he could really stick it out for the whole six months and then more. He did, and he would’ve loved to tell you, but that didn’t happen.
~
The next you saw was Art. If “seeing” was an appropriate term to use in this situation. After retiring, the man couldn’t find it in himself to ever really leave the tennis world, even after he and Tashi had divorced. He was still fully ingrained in the tennis world like the champion who would’ve lost it all, should’ve lost it all. His career been over if he had lost to Patrick that day. It would’ve destroyed him, you knew that. You didn’t need to be there to know, you always could read him. You could read all three down to the nastiest of details they were dirty rotten books passing fungus and parasites to everything they touched.
Art was the prettiest of parasites, seemingly clean and well behaved, but he fucked like a man starved for pussy, real pussy, raw and without conditions or expectations. You knew he hadn’t changed a bit when you saw him at an even for Uniqlo. Your career also had you around these circles and you like these events the best, with big brands but really niche, making it easy to not be overwhelmed as soon as you stepped in the room.
You’d been the center of attention the moment you entered and he was quick to catch you, you both engaging in a stare off that had lasted for about three seconds to you maybe, a lifetime to him. You couldn’t be here, not really, how could you ? He had dreamt of you, screamed your name and moaned it while balls deep in his wife. Ex wife. She’d moan your name too, it was pathetic, both were. He had pleaded the universe for you and yet nothing, but here you were, the one night he wasn’t thinking of you somehow. There you were, ever so beautiful and breathtaking. Like a ghost grappling at his brain.
It was pathetic, to not see you for a decade and yet to have his heart beat out of his chest as soon as he saw you and his cock springing to life like never before when you turned around, allowing him to gawk at the curve of your spine, from your nape to your ass. He was screwed.
For the rest of the night you both engaged in a cat and mouse game, him the cat and you the mouse, but here, you weren’t running from him. You were disappearing into the crowd as soon as he was freed from whatever pointless discussion was taking his time from you.
Then came the end of the night and Art was frantic, aimlessly searching for you, terrified like never before to miss you and this time lose you forever. He could reach you, he could go to one of your concerts and press tour for one of your movies. He could do that, but Art had always been somewhat of a pussy. Enjoying his position off in the shadow while the rest of the world took actions and spoke on their feelings.
That day, he took action, forgetting any sense of pride and decorum when he grabbed you by the jaw and pushed you into the elevator, hands reaching under your dress to hike your legs up around his waist. The elevator had barely opened, luckily leading directly into the suite he had been offered that he and his eager hands dragged your docile body to the nearest flat surface. When he had reached the dinner table, he had laid you up on it, so delicately, as if you were a figment of his imagination, potentially disturbed by any rough movement.
He was almost panicking, fiddling with your dress, torn between savoring the moment and your presence or making you feel the weight of your absence. He chose the later, ripping through the fabric of the expensive dress while you whined at the loss of such a beautiful piece to add to your collection.
You liked clothes, you always did and your mewls of pleasure mixed with the sound of your discontentment at the loss of your new favorite dress had him tensing in his pants, balls tight and full of love and memories from how happy and grateful you used to be when he gave you a present.
His lips dragged along the tense vein in your neck, occasionally biting down on your flesh to mark you in the most visible way possible. If you were to disappear again, you’d be marked, sworn as off limits to anyone else. You’d be his to worship.
You had matched his eagerness, sliding slander manicured fingers into his pants and boxers to stoke his cock, mouth watering at the idea lf having him in you again, girth taking up all the space in her throat and rutting into her hole desperately for even more.
You did, have him fuck your throat. Your saliva coating his balls shamelessly while you choked, almost suffocating on him but whining like the desperate girl you were whenever he even thought of pulling out. He had let you have your fun on him, nasty words to match the nasty rhythm of his hips slamming into your mouth. Plop. Plop. Plop, resonating into the room while he drilled his long cock into you with vigor. He had cum once, in your throat, only one, holding your face still as he pushed the tip of your nose into his nicely trimmed pubic hair. You inhaled his scent, eyes crossing in pleasure while you came untouched. What a good girl you’d always been, cumming at the idea of having him lay his semen in your throat.
He pulled out, holding your jaw still while admiring your fucked out face before kissing your cheeks tenderly like he always did to bring you back. You were easy to overwhelm so making you dumb on pleasure came easy too. But Art was a hard working man and he would never stop at that.
“Already so dumb for me…” He had muttered into your skin, lips dragging across your cheeks, jaw and chest, to finally reach your leaking mound. It was his turn to inhale your scent, mind hazy with pleasure and completely taken by you. No amount of thinking ever mattered, you mattered, all of you. Art had found an altar within the confine of your folds, ready to worship it like he had been deprived off for years.
His tongue had lapped at your juices for hours, pussy drunk after the first orgasm he had pulled out of you and ready to sink into his addiction. His messy tongue hadn’t left you since he had started, essentially hours ago, swallowing your taste, drinking in your pleasure and praying for more. He sucked on your clit messily, movements becoming just as erratic as he was. He wanted more of you, more of this, he needed to live in your skin forever. You were so warm and felt so good and he loved you and he had missed you so fucking much and this was too much, ruining him from the inside and melting him into a puddle of arousal and unexpressed love. He was made to love you and you weren’t there, you had left and he needed to love you now and forever.
“P-Please… Baby please…” He kept starting, to dumb on your pussy to be able to finish his sentence. But finish, that he did. Cumming untouched himself, cock rubbed raw against the fabric of the covers, a wet patch under him, marking the spot he’d been soaking with his pour sensitive cock for hours. He was twitching like never before, moans exiting his mouth because of the air touching his sensitive tip, so red it looked like a popsicle. Lucky him you couldn’t see, or you’d swallow him whole until he was to cum without anything coming out.
For now he rejoiced in the pleasure of having you in this bed, shaking nonstop and coherent words and phrases erases from your vocabulary by his desperate acts on your now swollen cunt. His hands had been gripping on your hips, holding you firmly and relying on your ass cheeks for more grip when his attacks on you became too much and you would attempt to squirm away. You were now but a body, a doll, aimlessly moved by him will. His tongue went deep inside you, so, so deep, almost grazing your most sensitive point but still preparing your walls for his raw dick and the abuse it would lay on your eager pussy. He moved your body back and forth, having you rut your hips into his face. His blue eyes, clouded by pleasure and insanity looked up, faced by your breasts bouncing while you cried and cried, the pleasure too much. He freed one of your ass cheeks to reach a large hand over your tits, grabbing it roughly and toying with your nipple while he sucked on your clit. He had heard the sound of the sheets ripping and wanted to be the next one to be torn into.
He was too much, to passionate on you, slurping and slobbering on your weeping cunt as if it was his last meal. He was entranced by you, feasting on you with all the fervor he had missed out on showing you. As he lapped away, you jerked particularly harshly, too sensitive to handle much more. Your fingers tried to pull him away from you, hair tightly gripped in your hands but he was quick to fight back, sending you a glare before going back to you.
In one desperate motion, strength fueled by your impending orgasm and his own, hip humping the air as his large cock stood tall beads of cum leaking in large drops out of his tip, he flipped you over, you on top of him, seating on his face while he laid under you. The weight of your ass on his chin and your cunt smashed against his face, he could die happy again. His hands found your ass again while yours grabbed onto his growing blond locks and the other holding onto the headboard. You road his tongue like never before, smearing your cum on his face while you cried for your release.
“A-Art ! Fuck, Art, baby ! S-So good !” was all you could say at the moment, the rest, incomprehensible cries of pleasure and babbling that signified how far gone you were.
Art watched your tits bounce again, saliva dripping out of the corner of his mouth and all over your center as he dreamt of sucking your nipples until the were swollen and sensitive. He made love to your cunt, moaning inside you like he could do so well, grunts and whines of pleasure going heard by the entire floor if his suit wasn’t the only one here. His own eyes filled with tears, balls releasing cum all over his stomach and your back.
You gripped his hair like a rope you held onto at the risk of falling. He admired with desperation and passion, your head thrown back in pleasure as you finally came, crying out his name while drenching his face in your cream. You could barely catch your breath that he had thrown you off of him and onto the mattress. He stood between your legs for a minute, staring.
That was the clearest memory you had of that night, other than the week long ache between your legs and the pulsating of your clit at the sound of his name. You, on the other hand, were etched into his mind like a picture carved in stone to be remembered forever. Everything he looked was a reminder of you, even his daughter, Lily, a great enjoyer of your movies, one where you had played a princess destined to save her kingdom. Ironic how both he and his daughter saw you the same, the princess and the savior.
He marked you into his mind, your hair splayed onto the bed, eyes lidded with pleasure, mouth parted as you stared at his cock. Every piece of you he memorized. In every position too. And, intertwined amongst the sounds of pleasure exiting his throat, muffled by his mouth almost fused to a piece of your skin, pressed to your cheek or to your forehead in one of the most intimate acts he had performed in the last five years, he cried out for you. Desperately crying out your and the anger he had suppressed towards you. Anger or sadness, sorrow so deep it almost felt like grief. His movement became harsher, almost mean but so full of love too. He loved you so much, present tense, he hadn’t stopped ever. He was still angry at you for leaving though, so he told you in a mix of incoherent and inaudible words all mushed together, he voiced his feelings for how you had abandoned him, left him heartbroken, grieving in silence.
“H-How…How could you d-do this to me, huh ?” He’d say angrily, before pleading. “I love you… F-Fuck… I l-love you… Please… I love you…”
Drilling his raw dick inside you felt like life itself, your walls tightly holding him in while he kissed your thoughts away. Open mouth kisses, all tongue and teeth, this was life, made and in the making. He was making life with you that night, creating like he had never before. When you rode his cock, balls slapping against your ass while his lips latched onto your breasts to suck on them, that was life. When you’d been thrown on all fours, taking the nastiest backshots known to man, pussy molded to take him and only him in, that was life. When he laid you on your side, one leg raised up by his muscly arm as you took another load of his cum from the back, that was life. When he fucked you with your thighs pressed to your chest and ankles around his head, his swollen lips kissing you tenderly in contrast with the force of his hips slamming into you, that was life.
Life hadn’t stopped until sunrise, where you had both fallen asleep, you taking in his ‘I love yous’ and your tongue tied with pleasure, the kind you hadn’t felt in decades, to speak up. With each new position came more cum and more words from him, poor Art, fucked dumb by his sweet girl that had finally returned. Years of guilt and love unexpressed had finally been told in loud moans and babbling about how much he loved you and was sorry.
It didn’t matter.
You had both fallen asleep with his cock nestled inside you, sheets tossed to the floor and arms holding your body close. He slept with his face nuzzling into your hair, a scent of vanilla and citrus he had missed like a man lost in the desert missed water. Your fingers held onto his forearm with your back pressed to his chest. You were both molded against one another, peaceful and quiet.
Reality hit the next morning, when he woke up to you getting dressed. You weren’t in a hurry but you weren’t staying, he couldn’t let you leave though.
He was quick to leap out of bed and in front of you, hands holding your cheeks to force you to look into his eyes.
“Please… Look at me, please baby…” He had begged, your empty eyes finding him. “Stay. Stay and let me apologize, make up for what I did-“
“You didn’t do anything Art.” You cut him off, swatting his hands away and going back to the pieces of your dress. “And there is nothing to make up for. You wanted Tashi, I can’t fault you. The sex was good, let’s stop there.”
Tears welled up in his eyes, desperation evident as he tried to hold you in his shaky hands.
He followed you around the bedroom and out of it when you were done, running after you while almost sobbing before dropping to his knees in front of you. You sighed, exhausted by the exchange while he sacrificed his dignity once again, for someone but never himself.
“Please baby, stay with me. Please, I love you.” He was erratic, breathing quickening while you looked around.
“Art…” Your eyes dropped to him, staring into his beautiful blue eyes and holding his face tenderly. “You don’t love me. You’re bored and you love having me in bed, that’s it.” You tried to walk away but he crawled after you, holding onto your leg desperately.
“No !” he exclaimed. “Don’t dismiss me or my feelings, please. I love you, with everything I have-“
“Ironically after Tashi left, thought.”
“I’m a fucking coward, fine ! But I can’t lose you again, not like this !” He was scared, that morning, truly. Even more than when Tashi announced she wanted a divorce.
“You don’t lose someone you don’t have. You can’t have someone you don’t want.”
“Fuck you ! I want you, I need you, baby, please !” He needed to know that you’d be there tomorrow and for the rest of eternity. He couldn’t lose you again, not again. “Look at me and tell me you don’t love me.”
You threw your head around, amused by his desperation and how brazen it made him sometimes. “You’re ruining this Art…”
“I can love you for the both of us if that’s the issue. I want to be yours, I want to marry you, live life with you, be everything you need from me !” He wasn’t listening, never.
Thinking back, it wouldn’t lead to anything, the pleading and all. He could see it now. Hindsight was 20/20. It would’ve been useless and even disrespectful to ask you to love him again after discarding you that way. But to get you back and lose you so quickly had killed him a little more that day. He had needed to hear it though, to understand. And understand he had.
“Art.” Your voice was firm, like a line of cement in the sand and a pause in time, freezing him and his tears in place. “I never needed you. None of you. I just wanted you, and was content with that. You were the ones who discarded me because you didn’t need me.”
He remained frozen in place, giving you the opportunity to leave, your eyes glued to his, his beautiful tearful face as he stared in silence. When the doors of the elevator closed, he collapsed, crying harder than ever before, crying like he should’ve years ago when he had found your stuff gone. He had lost you again. His pretty girl. The love of his life.
He might’ve doubted his love for Patrick or Tashi, but loving you was like breathing air. It was easy, it made sense, before and still now. And you’d been ripped out of his life forcefully. Even now, when his pride managed to supersede his love for Patrick and Tashi, nothing could come above the love he felt for you.
After that night, he had been floating aimlessly around life, drained out of life. You were somewhere, everywhere in his life, but near him and that was punishment, cruelty for choosing Tashi and ruining all four of you. He needed to see this and had refused, now he didn’t have the choice.
~
The next to see you was Tashi, or if you had to be precise, it was Lily, her daughter.
There was a park down your block, you often went there to write and skateboard. Tashi didn’t know that. She didn’t know anything. To know about you was to punish herself for about everything she had done in the recent years. Including getting married. She would never admit that though, to much pride would be sacrificed if after a decade she admitted that she missed you even after the way things had gone. It would also require for her to admit that maybe divorcing Art was not really a good idea. Not when a part of her still loved him, a part you had created, the part that accepted to love and be loved beyond tennis because love, as painful as it could be, was beautiful. Even in the most vile and painful moments.
You’d been sitting for about an hour, head thrown back as you let the spring breeze and the sound of birds communicating through the trees seep into your skin. Your week had been hectic and this was the first real moment of peace you could claim to benefit from, truly, a moment of peace where life let itself float around you while you took a pause.
Your pause, ended brutally, the sound of rushing footsteps and then a little yelp waking you up from your meditation. You opened one eye, looking down in the direction of the sound to find a little girl, laying on the floor with watery eyes and a wobbling bottom lip.
Poor thing had probably tripped. You straightened yourself, leaping off the bench to kneel in front of the little girl. She was distraught, looking around and fiddling with her skirt.
“Don’t worry, there’s not that many people, no one saw.” You’d said to reassure her.
She looked at you timidly before nodding, accepting the assessment you’d made on the situation. You didn’t know if anyone really had seen or not, but you did know that the park was essentially empty at this hour of the day.
“Hurts…” She mumbled, still looking down shyly. You wanted to chuckle, she was adorable, but she could’ve thought that you were mocking her so you refrained.
“Do you mind ?” You asked, pointing at her knee that was visibly turning a little more red by the minute. She shook her head, holding onto your shoulders so that you could lift her up and sit her on the bench. She had grazed her knee, it was bleeding. You looked up at the little girl in silence, this would probably have her panic if you told her. She looked about seven years old max and seemed used to run around freely, she hadn’t called for a parent yet. Luckily, you had everything you needed in your bag. You’d learn to carry around a first aid kit because of how easily you got hurt and out of habit. It reassured Tashi, back in the days, to know that you were okay or at least had something to take care of yourself.
You chuckled, her memory would truly haunt you until death if it could. You’d see her face in a piece on bandaid if you let yourself.
Pulling out your essentials, you pulled out a bottle of water as well as cleaning alcohol. You saw the little girl tense but quickly regain her composure.
“You’re not scared ? That hurts sometimes you know…” That wasn’t the smartest thing to say to a kid, but you said it anyways.
“I-It’s okay… Mommy says bugs could grow in my boo-boo if not cleaned. I hate bugs.”
You grinned, amused by her rationality but also by her tight grip on your shoulders. She was scared, she just knew better.
“And what does your mommy say about you running around alone in a park ?”
She didn’t respond, too focused on your face. Like she’d seen it before, and frankly, looking at her, you felt like you had seen her before. The messy curls on top of her little head and the way her nose scrunched and her eyes narrowed when you dabbed the alcohol on her knee. You wanted to pay more attention, but the memories where ghosts that had to be ignored or they would ruin your life.
“I’ve seen you before…” She said. You hummed, quietly asking for precisions. “In the TV. You were really pretty. You had a sword and all… It was cool…”
She’d seen one of your movies, for children kinda. A little bit violent in some scenes but for children technically. With a princess who wielded the sword better than any knight.
“Did you like it ? I personally did. Loved the sword fights.” You asked, softly placing the bandaid on her leg and giving her a thumbs up.
“Me too, but I have to be careful because they’re dangerou-“
“Lily ?!”
You both were interrupted by a loud voice not too far, rushing quickly towards you. The little girl hopped off the bench with a smile, running in their direction after muttering a soft “mommy”.
You would’ve loved to turn around, but presently you were too annoyed to do so, angry to not have noticed her resemblance to the man you had seen a few weeks prior and the woman you hadn’t seen in years. You exhaled, seating back on the bench and watching as the little girl chatted away, explaining how “the princess from the TV healed her knee”. You watched Tashi search around until her gaze found yours and froze.
If you’d been in her head you would’ve seen it all, the fireworks, the crashing waves of a hurricane, the tornado, the screaming lady who resembled her but simply couldn’t be, Art and her’s wedding day, the fights you found yourself at the center of and all the times she’d have sex with him thinking of you but without feeling guilty because she knew he did too. You’d see that and about a thousand other things because she was going insane at the moment while you looked almost bored to see her.
She stood up, mouth slightly parted and her eyes never really leaving yours while her hands gripped on Lily’s smaller one, like she was afraid that she would run and disappear again, like she had previously done and like you did years ago.
For someone who was paid for her advices and known in the business for how easily she could get in someone’s head through words, Tashi was struggling a great deal at words right now. She was stuck between speechless and too angry to formulate clear words.
“Mommy ?” Was what brought her back. She looked to her daughter, plastering on a fake smile to appease the worried child and caressing her hair.
“How about you go play for a little while I go say thank you to the lady, okay ?” In any other circumstances she would’ve gone home, done with the whole outdoors thing and ready to get back to work but the situation was different with you present here.
When she assessed that Lily was far enough to not hear, she stomped towards you, angry eyes burning through you. She was ready to hand you a slap worthy of movies but was stopped by your less that amused eyes matching her expression. You were politely asking her to refrain with your eyes, an expression she’d almost never been on the receiving end of.
Tashi stood there, watching you attentively, like she expected you to disappear. She took the time to observe you, take you in. Your gaze was some distant point in front of you, possibly Lily, seeing how you smiled while she laughed loudly.
You hadn’t changed much in a decade, looking as young as when you were in college. They’d all felt the mark of time as it was engraved on their features, burnt with painful precision to signify the years of conniving, lies and deceit they’d been put through by each other to maintain the illusion that they were doing better than the next. You looked fine, they didn’t.
Even she, felt like she didn’t look good, worn out by the pretense of perfection of the wife and coach who only sought to bring out the best out of her husband, make him the best. Not that he could ever really become it, not when he was so busy trying to play for two. Ironically she did find respite in her motherly duty, finding bits of herself you had taken with you in her darling little girl. Ball of oxygen like she had never experienced before, the kind of fresh air tennis could bring her.
“She’s cute, your daughter. Looks so much like you, almost feels like Art didn’t have anything to do with it.” You said nonchalantly.
She could’ve carved your eyes out for that comment, slapped you with nasty words about your life and how bitter you were that it wasn’t you. She remembered how you four had planned it. You and Art were supposed to marry because you loved each other the healthy, reciprocated, committed way. Like a couple who wanted to grow old and have plenty of kids together did. Tashi, she loved you as much as she loved tennis, but tennis came first. Patrick loved Art as much as he loved tennis, but he loved Art more. They’d find mutual benefits being together, because they worked and loved each other in a way that worked. Loved each other like two pieces of one tennis driven soul. After one very long and celebration filled night where everyone had won something, you’d made a promise that reeked of love, the kind Tashi had never allowed herself to feel for anything that wasn’t tennis. She loved Patrick really, but you first and Art too. You all made her feel alive the way tennis did. Art wanted children, with you, and you wanted kids with him too. Patrick and Tashi, it was more of an eventuality for after retirement. Adoption maybe, or you. It didn’t matter, but it all worked out for all of you. That night, she felt like she was on top pf the world. She crashed a few months later when she fought with Patrick and Art had started his divisive bullshit. The fall of Tashi Duncan, the one who could’ve but never would again.
“She’s a good kid, more like him than you think. But you wouldn’t know, you’ve been busy.” She responded after a while, both to defend herself but also to spit out her anger towards you. It had to come out.
“Don’t expect me to stick around where I’m not wanted.”
“Oh fuck off !” Your nonchalance was getting to her, anger as evident as the sorrow in her voice. “The victim bullshit about how you weren’t wanted can work for the other two but I knew you first. No one in this world wanted you more than we did.”
“Yeah, maybe, but you treated me like shit.” Your tone wasn’t changing while hers shifted from assured to shaky.
“So what, you leave ? We scream at you once and you leave ?” You turned to her, looking into her eyes as if looking through her while she stared at you, awaiting a response. It was surprising really, how easily she lost her temper and composure when it came to you. You were like gasoline to her fire. She’d never show as much passion than in the moments that had to do with you.
She hated you in that moments, because you left her alone. She lost tennis, her mind then you. She couldn’t do this without you but she didn’t have the choice, she faked it until it felt real and suddenly you appeared again. On her screens, then billboards and then ad’s and commercials. Obviously she knew you shared some brand deals with Art, she’d done it on purpose so that she could feel bits of you in him. She smelled you all over him when he had returned from that trip for a brand she had forgotten. She only remembered the look in his eyes, like Life itself had been ripped out of him. They’d shared a look that day and it was all they had needed to know. She, who had started to doubt whether divorce really was the best choice, she now knew that it was. You hadn’t just been lingering around, you were the constant. The glue.
That night, Art had slept in the guest room, crying himself to sleep for her to listen through the walls as she cried quietly. They were pathetic truly. But at least they knew that they had to separate really. No more fight on his part to keep his family, no more doubt on hers to keep tennis. Neither could stand the other any longer nor could they stand the charade.
“You treated me like shit Tashi. You’re not the only one who knows the other and unlike you and your lapdog, I actually don’t mind the truth, even when it makes me look like shit. You treated me like shit, so I left. Or would you have preferred for me to be like your little white boy and stick around to get a taste of what the Tashi Duncan, never really Donaldson, bullshit, conditional love is ?”
You sounded more animated, brought alive by the commentary on a life you would never regret because you knew it brought you the peace they never could enjoy. She usually enjoyed getting a rise out of the other two, feeling like she was better for remaining collected when they didn’t.
Now, it didn’t feel like a testament of her success over you. She never wanted to win when it came to you, it wasn’t about that, it was simpler. You were like a drug she got addicted to, but the good kind. Like being addicted on life. You made her feel alive independently of tennis. With you around, she actually would’ve been okay losing tennis forever because with you around, the story about how tennis was a relationship where you owed it to someone else to entertain them, to build a relationship and whatnot, it just didn’t work.
She felt healthier, in her mind and body with you, like genuinely be alright no matter where life lead her. And one day it all started crashing. Slowly. She should’ve seen it coming, or at least she could’ve paid attention taken charge to fight this the right way. She didn’t. When things got bad for her she’d focus entirely on tennis and when things got bad between you four, tennis was all that mattered until it wasn’t there anymore. She wouldn’t be choosing tennis had she known that it would take you away.
She had lost tennis too at the end so frankly, it didn’t matter anymore but she refused to lose her right to be mad at you too, because that’s really all she had left of you. Her anger and a daughter who grew to emulate parts of you she didn’t know she had missed.
“She hates bugs.” She said. It surprised you, it was soft, a whisper. Almost like she wanted to hide. You could only chuckle because it made you laugh, thought it didn’t make much sense.
“Everyone should hate bugs.” You responded.
“No…” she sighed, annoyed that she had to clarify. “She hates bugs like you do. Has to take off her clothes to check that they’re not there and take off the invisible veil of their presence on her skin.”
“That’s the best way to free yourself from the bugs.” That was weird, and uncool. She looked at you like you were a freak and for a second she was taken back to college, where you were the cool mysterious girl who everyone wanted to fuck but were too scared to approach. You really were a weirdo who hated bugs and could throw up if a caterpillar crawled your way. You were so cool to everyone but her. Just like now.
If you could’ve described her expression, you could only associate it with the way she looked at Patrick usually. That was the look she gave him when he’d forget himself and talk to her like she was any kind of girl he picked up off the street at a bar to fuck. She looked at you like you had lost your senses and had about five seconds to find them which was funny because she was the one losing it.
She loved you a whole lot, which was insane.
She stood and looked at you from above with disdain and contempt.
“You’re a pussy who runs away at the slightest of issues. I loved you, I list tennis and you left me because I wouldn’t coddle you anymore.” She spat venomously, aiming to hurt.
You looked at her, indeed hurt but also surprised. You were more wounded by what her words meant than what she had said.
“Y-You… You think I left because you weren’t playing anymore ?”
“That’s exactly what you did.”
And for the first time you were affected. This was the first encounter that had really thrown you back in the past.
You felt tears well up on your eyes, the feeling of your eyes trying to soak up the tears to keep you composed, so overpowering your throat was stuck. You didn’t want to cry and she didn’t want to make you cry, but she also did, because then maybe you’d feel exactly like she had for weeks back in the days.
“If… If tennis really had been what had sealed the deal, I would’ve stayed for Art, fucked him and gotten pregnant, Tash…” You chuckled, trying to conceal the pain that came with understanding what her best friend felt. You finally saw her view, all because of a simple phrase from her. “I left… I left because I was useless to all of you, Tashi… Without tennis to make you happy, what good was I around other than to have sex and remind you of how disposable I am ?”
You had cried yourself to sleep countless times, begging for assurance that you were good enough, that you could be loved, that you deserved it and weren’t disposable. Patrick’s words had been etched into your skull like a scar that wouldn’t ever go away. And she didn’t seem to see it correctly because she looked disgusted but really she was angrier than before at you for speaking up after a decade and at everything that had a part to play in her loosing her best friend.
“I never said any of that crap to you, so why would you think that ?”
“Because you hadn’t said the opposite, Tashi. You sunk and pushed me away, made me feel like shit for trying when I could never understand but you wanted them. Even Patrick you wanted him around. I was the waste of air…”
And she would’ve screamed at you that no, you weren’t, she had loved you and still did and would burn herself raw to show it, because she loved passionately and her passion with Art depended on you now, kinda. She would’ve slapped Patrick’s jaw off and had him searching for you to apologize. She would’ve done this a thousand other ways and shown you the years of tear stains and sleepless nights where she could only fall asleep to your voice on the TV, singing your life away as if she didn’t exist and wasn’t watching you. She wanted you to hear it, all of her anger and hatred.
Instead, Lily returned, running happily while you whipped your tears. She could only hear the ‘mommy’ coming out of her daughter before tuning her out to watch you. You knelt, listening to her talk about her rocks and the other kids while she watched or admired. Before she knew it, you had rolled away on your skateboard leaving her again.
~
If you presently took time out of your day to think about your exes, it wasn’t because it felt good to think about them, but because they were all crumbling, Tashi included, the most put together one of them. Patrick, it made sense. But Tashi, it was a surprise, though not so much. After Art had unilaterally decided, to announce his retirement, most likely without consulting his wife and coach, you had expected a shift, a the divorce announcement which had followed a month later was part of that. But to catch the three of them together, yelling at each other in the middle of a school was even more a surprise.
You’d been riding your motorcycle downtown when you passed a school. Stopping at the red light, you almost fell off your vehicle when you heard three more than familiar voices in front of a school gate. You felt them themselves had noticed you when all three stopped to turn in your direction. You were remained still, staring straight at them through your helmet. Tashi, always in the middle would be staring into your eyes if she would and a part of you wished she was, to see how she would react. Didn’t matter though, a part of you knew she had recognized you first, her body shifting from anger to unprecedented sorrow, like seeing a ghost of the person you had lived the most in a stranger passing by. You knew they were gone yet you still saw them and felt all the love you had missed out on giving them.
Lily noticed you next, how, you didn’t know, but she did, waiving her arm so hard it could come off at any second. The rest you tried to ignore feeling slightly, but only slightly, humiliated that you’d been pulled so easily into an impromptu dinner at Art’s apartment where Lily stayed for the week because you had stupidly promised her to recount the tales of your movies and concert adventures all over the world. And obviously, after the dinner from hell where each mention you had made about your past and its relation to your current career was met with a snarky comment, mention about a more than private anecdote or a longing look that made you feel like you had passed away tragically, you had to deal with The Conversation. Years of work, years of you steering clear off these people, all gone down the drain because of one little girl that just so happens to be a little too curious.
You would’ve honestly chosen to have a bullet going through your forehead before you willingly accepted to be in a situation like this one. But you also hated being inconvenienced and Art’s look of desperation was enough of one without dealing with Tashi cussing you out again, so yeah you accepted. Patrick was pretty chill, actually really nice to be around when sober.
And then ensued the longest and lost quiet ten minutes of your life, with Art looking down at you like you could evaporate, Tashi looking at you like you spat in her face and Patrick looking at you with genuine happiness, almost glad that you were here. You, were looking elsewhere, everywhere, analyzing the space and checking for the nearest exit. You would’ve made a run for it if you weren’t so fucking lazy, really. Unlucky you, victim of her own lacks.
Patrick was the first to talk, hesitant but clearly not feeling guilty or ashamed of anything. Or maybe he was but had learned to deal.
“I’m really happy to see you. I get to thank you for rehab.” He said and you almost glared at him, which he noticed, grinning like he used to, the smug fuck.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You spat.
It made him chuckle really, how hard you tried to detach yourself from them but kept yourself in their orbit at almost all times. You were a brat and he was glad to see it hadn't changed.
“Right.” He nodded, complying with amusement. “Well, whoever is responsible in your team for my rehab as well as the apartment I got after, you’ll thank them for me.”
“They’re getting fired.”
You were stubborn, maybe more than him even, and he understood, definitely more than the other two who too busy hating you or loving you unconditionally.
Then began another five minutes of silence, broken once again by Patrick.
“Okay, I feel this is a waste of time.” He had barely started that you were already standing up to leave, quickly stopped by a frantic Art standing up in a hurry to stop you while Tashi’s head snapped in your direction coaxing you into sitting down with her eyes. Patrick enjoyed this greatly, how pathetic you made these two. “I mean, if we’re going to be here, we might as well talk. We need to, we haven’t in a while after all.”
Tashi’s anger changed focus to go to him, glaring at him with disdain.
“Since when did you become a fucking preacher of all things healthy and positive ?”
“Since someone nicely offered me a nice stay at a top tier rehab center that offered solo therapy sessions. The kind we all need.” Every word seemed to be pointed at you and you almost whished you’d left him to rot in the back of his car.
“I go to therapy, you ungrateful fuck, you won’t be teaching me shit about a healthy mental state.”
“Oh, what do you go for ? To learn to be less of a pussy and not run when things don’t go your way ?” Responded Tashi, more than annoyed by your condescension.
“No, I go to learn how to deal with nasty cold-hearted cunts who fail in life and take it out on everyone around them because they lost their lapdog husband to do that. Clearly it’s working because I’m here.”
“Oh look at her, she had a voice and a purpose now.”
“Don’t talk to her like that…” Muttered Art, finally losing it enough to speak up. It was cute, coming from a good intention and making shit worse.
“And look who finally grew a backbone ! Arthur Donaldson, standing up for someone, how nice. Of course it has to be for her, because if you won’t be fucking her behind my back and moaning her name while balls deep in me, you’ll be defending her.”
“Don’t start Tashi. You moaned her name more than I did, you’re mad that I got to see her and you didn’t, so let’s discuss that !” His voice increased in volume, meeting her as she stoop in to get in his face.
“Why the fuck would I need to see her ? She abandoned me ? She’s a fucking traitor !”
“Oh that’s rich coming from you Tashi, because you drilled in my head that after your fucking knee gave up on you I didn’t serve any other purpose than a nice fuck to remind you that there was always someone more useless than you now !”
The voices were coming from everywhere, heated and hurt by the wounds of the past, the kind that couldn’t heal until they were acknowledged.
You were all breathing loudly, looking at each other in pure anger, the anger you had repressed for years, the nasty words and ideas that you had let fester in your minds, desperately trying to move on and to grow into better people. You were all bitter, and in a funny twist of things, the most insane one of you remained sat, smiling at the three of you, enjoying the show.
“Oh, sorry.” He raised his hand, waiving it nonchalantly. “Don’t mind me, I’m just enjoying this. Happy to see you communicate.”
Had it been anyone else, you would’ve punched their teeth in, but Patrick enjoyed this. Sober or not, he remained annoyingly toxic, thriving off of the chaos that follows him.
“You’re enjoying this ? Really ?” You sounded just as surprised as you were amused, balancing between two moods that had you going from hot to cold.
You watched him stand up and get closer to you, close enough for you to smell the mint body wash on his skin. Good Lord, he smelled so good you could fuck him right now.
His hands traveled from your forearms to your cheek, holding your jaw nicely while you tried to act utterly disgusted by his presence and his touch.
When he kissed you, all tongue and drool, it was a little more difficult to act, mostly when you pulled at his hair the way he like and when his hand moved to hold your throat softly.
“What do you need to drop this act ? You know you want us, sweetheart. You need us in your life and it’s really embarrassing that you’re still keeping up the bit after more than a decade.”
You would’ve been bewildered by his audacity had you not been almost fucked mercilessly into dealing with it. It didn’t mean you wouldn’t enjoy putting him in his place, which is what you did when you pulled him away from you by the hair before pushing him back into his chair but not pushing his hand away when it loved to you exposed hip bone.
“I don’t know what fucked up substances had been floating in your system that fried your brain, but you told me to fuck off and die Patrick.”
“You’re being dramatic.” He cut you off with a grin, enjoying the situation even more.
“If I remember correctly, you called me useless. That sounds pretty freaking clear to me. As a matter of facts, the two other’s didn’t even say shit to shut you up so you can choke for all I care. Because yes I left, but you gave me the only reason I needed to.”
And it was funny really, how anger made them all lose their memories because you had really been given a reason, but they still felt like victims.
“So you listen to what my bitch says now ?” Tashi chimed in, angering you further.
“I’m as much your bitch as he was so, yeah, if you’re not defending me, you’re agreeing with him.”
And the perspective wasn’t new to her. It just meant she was wrong all that long and that wasn’t something she could accept. She has thought for years that you’d looked for the exit, when in truth they had opened the doors for you.
And now, it was her turn to kiss you. Nasty and greedy, teeth knocking and pussies leaking as she cussed you out like never before. She wanted you and hated you for making yourself wanted after years. Wanted you so much she pushed you onto the table, swatting the teacups off the table to crash loudly. When her mouth traveled down your neck, biting along the way, as if she was attempting to catch up to years of not marking you as hers, you cried out her name all while pulling at her hair.
Maybe it was the use of the present tense that fucked with her brain on a cellular level. Or it was the way Patrick had kissed you as if he had rights over you when then knew she was the only one who had rights over you. And fuck, you looked so good when you were a bitch, that had her leaking out of her panties like never before.
She refused to take up responsibility but you also refused to admit that you had settled for less, accepting the apologizes hidden in her actions. Mouth mean and piercing when her touch was so soft, like an apology that wouldn’t come out.
When she slid your pants down along with your panties, you expected to get eaten out, instead confronted by a crying Tashi.
“What the fuck ?” You exclaimed, seating up and looking at her.
You tried to raise her hand but were pushed back down instead mouth stuffed with your panties while she hid between your thighs. You would’ve loved to get her tongue deep inside you but with her tears running down your inner thighs, it was hard to not be distracted. She sobbed louder, finally stopping before springing up and storming off.
Art was the one to stop her, worried for the woman he had seen cry maybe twice in his life. His eyes asked a thousand questions wonder and fear traveling through, powered by the fear of failing to rekindle the old flame that kept him alive.
“Why did you have to fuck her ?! Why do I have to deal with her again ?!”
It was harsh but you didn’t take it personally, never with her. She was a loyal person, ironically, and to lose the pillar that you were had killed her inside. Her finger pointed at you while she sobbed, letting go of years of resentment.
“You abandoned me ! You left me but you fucked him and you pay for the other to go to rehab ! He hurt you and you save his life when you should let him burn !”
The mask of assurance and anger was crumbling like a sand castle under a wave, traveling as fast as her tears. You wanted to reach and comfort your girl but now could be the wrong time.
“They get every piece of you, even from afar and I get nothing ! You give me nothing but fucking dust !”
This time you did reach out. Holding out your hands to her and letting her fall into your arms like she usually did. She never fought to reach you, she melted for you more than for anyone. Maybe that was why her marriage to Art had failed, because by default, you were the quickest route to her heart beyond the planning for the perfect tennis related life. You actually touched Tashi.
After a while she stopped crying and marched towards Patrick to slap him because he was a smug bitch and the source of all of this, but he was also a good sport and took it rather easily. He didn’t care about the slaps, not when they were a necessary step to getting you back into this circle, the correct universal order of things. And he was also pretty glad that she’d slapped him if it meant he could watch her lodge herself between your parted legs and stick two digits in your mouth to shut you up when you yelped at the coldness of her breath on you.
“You’re sick, you know that ?” She had chuckled when looking at you dripping center and rubbing her thumb on your clit. “I cry just a little and you actually get wetter. That’s fucked, even for you.”
Yeah you were weak to her tears and yeah it did make your insides throb but not because you liked to see her cry. It was because a very twisted part of you knew that only you could get her to act like that, only you could get her to lose that ego and be human for a second. And when she looked up at you with reddened eyes and lashes still a little covered in tears, you did moan because fuck she was hot. She was insane but she was hot and you’d missed having her tongue on you so you took it like the good girl she had trained you to be.
“See how easily things go when you stop being dramatic ?” Had scoffed Patrick, still grinning as he walked towards Art.
“Fuck y- Aah !” You couldn’t finish that sentence, nor when she sucked your clit in like she loved to do whenever you got mouthy. It trained you to be polite.
Patrick watched you slowly lose your resolve, twisted into a submissive little thing, the sweet girl he used to fuck into oblivion, not the egotistical pop star that refused to fucking talk to him.
While Tashi had her fun between your thighs, slid behind Art who evidently couldn’t take his eyes off of you. Oh, how he had missed you, all of you. To watch Tashi devour you like she did ignited a fire in him he hadn’t felt in about a decade, or six months if we went back to the last time he saw you. Here you were, laid on top of his kitchen like a godly offering meant for him to devour. He looked down at you core, watching your cunt throb in desire, never really satisfied until you were filled up properly.
He watched you with glossy eyes and a line of drool picking out of the corner of his mouth, he wanted his mouth of your tits, so nicely presented, bare under your top. Was that what you wanted ? For him to see you and think of your night together, like he had done for the last weeks ? Were you trying to get him to lose it ? He was going insane, more than usual. He could still see him jerk off in the shower, his bed or his TV whenever something about you came up in his head or his screen. He saw you and would cry at the loss of you all while cumming all over himself repeatedly.
“Look at this, pretty girl…” Muttered Patrick, running his nose down Art’s neck. “Look at your sweet boy, Art. Look at how hard you get him when you start acting nice with us ?”
His large hands slid under the blond man’s joggers, pushing the tiny briefs he wore to the side, to let his large cock be freed. You saw him sigh in relief, his long girth and thick balls finally freed from the piece of fabric barely covering them. You could salivate at the thought of him, how his pore dick just could never fully fit in the tiny underwear Tashi had him buy. He’d get aroused and need to push them to the side to breathe. Obviously, all that before you offered to get on your knees and relieve him from the itch.
And you were already getting crosseyed, losing your resolve quickly and forgetting why you were angry at them for all these years. You couldn’t remember, but you knew that you were ready to be used by every single one of them. Starting with your poor baby boy who tried his best not to jump you, respecting Tashi’s time with you all while leaking cum through his joggers. He tried to be so respectful that was the one to drop his pants and tug at his balls to give him a little friction.
A little always went a long way for Art, so when you saw him cum all over Patrick’s hand and not down your throat you were a little disappointed.
Tashi barely spared anyone a glance, to busy exploring your insides with her tongue. When your legs closed in around her, she knew you were close, enough to satiate a decade long thirst for your sweet juices. She sucked in your clit again and you tried to crawl away, too sensitive for the double sucking and penetration, her fingers sliding inside you to part you open properly.
You were so close, whining and moaning her name while rubbing your pussy on her face. But then she stood up, leaving you to cry out while you watched your orgasm die on her tongue.
“You really think I’d let you cum after you ghosted me for a fucking decade ?” She said, looking at you with a mix of disgust and amusement.
You wanted to scream and cuss her out for leaving you so high and letting you crash down, but you knew better and you knew she would do worst if you didn’t watch your mouth.
Patrick was the one to make a move, kissing forehead with another fucking grin. Was that the only thing he did ?
“Be nice to our girl, Tashi… She was certain that we hated her guts.”
“Yeah, well that’s not my problem. You fuck her if you want but she’s not cumming until I say she does.” Her gaze was decisive and you knew that was an order for the two men in the room as well as a threat to you.
You tried to plead with your eyes, pulling at her heartstrings to no avail, you’d need to make yourself be forgiven. But it was also easier to plead with Art who was still staring at you, desperately waiting for his moment. Patrick stared at you both, amused at your fickle attempt at restraint.
He'd always be the one to let himself be driven by his dick so really, he could salute Art for the attempt, had it been him, he would’ve fucked you stupid already. And he would, eventually, he wanted to, his throbbing cock a proof of that. But he wanted to deal with this shit first.
“How about we calm down and let all the anger go, huh Tash ? Look at our sweet girl, look how much she’s missed you ? How about we let her show us, huh ?”
For a few seconds, both looked into each other before she rolled her eyes, agreeing in silence. In mere seconds you were lifted up by Patrick, his hands holding onto your bare ass cheeks while toying with your pussy lips. His nose ran along your nose, inhaling your scent and the aroma of you on his tongue.
“You’ll get to put on a show for us, princess.” He said, nipping on your collarbone all the way down to your nipples. You closed your legs around his waist, throwing your head back in pleasure when his lips ran around your nipple, sucking it in vigorously.
He stopped in his track, turning towards a frozen Art, unmoving and red all over, from the tip of his ears to the tip of his cock. He watched the way you swallowed, eagerly waiting to get to suck him dry. He liked it, when you became just a little bit insane over Art’s cock, salivating at the idea of him drilling his cock down your throat.
Tashi had been watching you this whole time and the way you looked at the blond man. She liked how much you craved Art too, enjoyed watching you two fuck for hours, until you couldn’t think or form a coherent sentence. She stood up, walking in his direction and running a finger over the slit of his tip. He was shaking at the touch, almost ready to cum on the spot.
Tashi took his hand and followed after Patrick and you, dragging the man behind. She pushed him to the bed and Patrick threw you on top of him, Art’s arms wrapping around your waist protectively. He didn’t know what he was protecting you off but he wanted to be in his skin at the moment deep in every crevice of your being.
“Show us what you did together and I’ll forgive you.” She said, taking a seat right in from of the bed next to Patrick.
You could’ve refused, acted like you were better than that, had changed and grown out of that phase of your life and didn’t need her forgiveness. You could’ve been the mentally stable being you claimed to be, but you didn’t. Because you weren’t. You missed being used by all three of the people in the room, watched and admired as a vessel of their pleasure. You missed Tashi being mean to you in bed, so mean that you would cry for hours until she was done and cuddled you afterwards. You missed being used as a cum dumpster by Patrick and his disgusting ways of having sex, thick hairy balls rubbing over your face when he’d make you suck him off. And you missed Art taking you until you were left shaking in his arms, so roughly that neither of you could think a single rational, logical thought.
You missed the messiness of life with them, not prim proper and rational but genuinely sick and twisted, toxic filled bullshit that had you feeling passion like never before. You missed actually being better than them and rubbing it in their faces by always being the first to do the right thing.
You were just as twisted as them, calculated and conniving as the next. Birds of a feather, that was all you, all four of you insane and desperately in love, even if it hurt sometimes.
You didn’t talk shit out that night or the day after. You fucked all night, finally forgiven around 4AM, just in time for Tashi to sit on your face while Art and Patrick battled each other to eat the cum out of you. The weren’t sure whose it was but they wanted a taste. And that went along for the next day because while Patrick and Tashi could actually control themselves, Art never could, not with you. He kept going until his balls hurt and he’d been shooting blanks inside you.
Patrick wouldn’t apologize, not with words but with actions, because he was still an ego drive piece of shit and he refused to admit being wrong when it came to you. But he loved you so he became nicer and watched his words around you, because he refused to go insane again at the loss of you. Tashi would move on as if nothing happened, her girlfriend was back and she’d eventually get married with Patrick because she actually worked with Patrick and loved him the way she couldn’t Art, but never the way she loved you. Art would pamper you like you were heaven on Earth, worshipping the very ground you walked on and feeding off of your love for him just like you fed on his love for you, because you actually loved Art, loved him enough to get married and have that baby you talked about.
The dynamic was weird but it worked and it was all planned also. Nothing had really changed, except you, you became worse. Just as unstable as them.
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livingformintyoongi · 8 months ago
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can I request: Jungkook and YN laying in bed cockwarming while watching a movie and they fall asleep. Jungkook wakes up in the middle of the night and is still inside YN so he wakes her up by sucking her tits and asks her if it's ok to fuck because he is hard
thanksssss💕
5:30 A.M.
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a/n: Thank you for the request! It's my first time making smut as such, so I hope it's good enough for your taste ^^. warnings: Cockwarming, Mazophilia, reader is older than Jungkook by two years, kind of dom!reader and sub!Jungkook but very mild, breeding kink, hair pulling. wc: 1.8k
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"Don't you find it strange that Captain America and Iron man get along so badly? I mean, they both seek the same end, why fight each other when they should be using that strength against villains?" muttered Jungkook, trying to swallow the vulgar amount of popcorn he threw into his mouth.
"They both have the same goal, but at the same time different values, and those same values are what make their relationship so strained" you nodded, taking a sip of your drink, "You know what thing does strike me as odd?".
"What?" your boyfriend's gaze was still fixed on the TV, too focused on watching Iron man and Captain America fight.
"That you asked to be inside me while we watch Captain America: civil war," you laughed softly, turning to look at your boyfriend "Sounds like too weird of a fetish. Tell me the truth, do you have an Iron man fetish or something?".
Jungkook laughed, kissing your cheek and caressing your abdomen with his fingertips. You felt your insides stir inside you. 
 "Of course not, it's just that I really love being inside you" he murmured, kissing you shortly, "I feel so much closer to you, like we're really one person, you know what I mean?".
You nodded laughing, stroking his jaw, "Sure I do, but it's still weird that you're asking me while we're watching a Marvel movie."
"I'll pick something better next time" he chuckled, snuggling under you. He loved having you in his lap and being able to hug you from behind. "Now let's concentrate on watching Robert Downey Junior fight Chris Evans."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say" you smiled, leaning against his shoulder and watching one of your boyfriend's favorite movies.
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You fell asleep shortly after watching the post-credits scene, you had a long day's work, so it was expected that you fell asleep so early. Before going to sleep you asked Jungkook to switch positions and he was quick to agree. He was aware that it was quite uncomfortable for you to sleep sitting up, and since he still didn't want to leave you, you decided to lie down hugging each other, him with his head on your chest and his hands around your waist, you, with one of your hands on his lower back and the other in his hair.
Even though you fell asleep much earlier than Jungkook had planned, he quite enjoyed watching the rest of the movies alone, mostly because it was enough for him that you were lying next to him.
He hadn't planned on disturbing your rest, indeed, he hated to do so because he knew how much the work exhausted you, but there were things he simply couldn't control, like his cock. 
If we're honest, it hadn't been his fault as such, but somehow watching Wade and Vanessa's scenes while he was still inside you awakened something inside him. And on the outside, too. 
As soon as he felt little spasms in his cock, he turned off the TV and settled back against your chest, closing his eyes and trying to think about anything other than fucking you. It worked a little at first, but then he felt the soft scent of your perfume, your breath against his scalp, the softness of your breasts against his cheek. He actually tried to resist.
He took a breath of air, remembering an old conversation the two of you had at the beginning of your relationship. You had talked about whether you were comfortable with certain things in the sexual realm, among them, having something with one of you asleep. You confessed that you didn't mind as long as you weren't fighting and he told you that he trusted you enough to know that you would take good care of him even if he was sleeping. 
You weren't fighting, so he wasn't passing you around, you said yourself that you didn't care. 
That was Jungkook repeated himself as he slipped his hand under your shirt, which was actually his, and started massaging your breasts. At first it was just small squeezes, using his whole hand to cover your breast. He licked his lips, looking at your face. You were still asleep.
The squeezes now shifted to your nipples. He rolled, pulled and pinched them, gradually increasing the force on them. He was surprised to notice that you were still sound asleep in spite of that.
He thought that was good, so this time he lifted your shirt until it was under your chin. He swallowed saliva at the sight of your breasts. He seriously loved them, they were so round, nice and big. He brought his mouth up to the point where both breasts met and began to leave little kisses on the spot. His hands were now busy caressing your hips, and his hips were grinding against yours with almost imperceptible movements. 
You were still asleep.
When he realized that you wouldn't wake up no matter what he did, he began to lick the skin around your nipples. At first it was just small rubs, but they soon turned into sloppy kisses, sucking your nipples hard as his onslaught became stronger than at first.
It was only then that you opened your eyes.
You were still a little groggy from the nap you had taken, so it took you a while to realize what was happening. You came all the way back after Jungkook hit your G-spot a little too hard.
You moaned much louder than usual, opening your eyes wide.
"Jungkook?" you gasped, clinging to his hair as you felt his cock touch your G-spot again. 
"Noona" he whispered, his voice cracking. Now that you were aroused he could afford to lunge harder. "You feel so good, you're so beautiful, so tight."
You weren't understanding the situation very well, but you weren't going to complain either. Jungkook definitely knew how to make a woman feel good.
"I thought I'd have to hold back, I didn't want to wake you up," he murmured, tightening his grip on your hips as his lunges got faster and messier, "I'm glad you woke up."
"Were you holding back?" you chuckled, groaning at the end of the sentence.
Jungkook was big, much bigger than any of your exes were, and even though you'd been together for quite a while now, you couldn't get used to his size and how well he filled you up. That, coupled with how resilient and flexible he was, made him a perfect lover. 
Even knowing that, you were still amazed by the fact that Jungkook held back most of the time just so he wouldn't hurt or tease you. It seemed so cute to you.
"Of course I do," he nodded awkwardly, closing his eyes tightly as he licked his bottom lip. He had to let go of your hips and grab hold of the back of your bed in order to continue. It felt even better now that you were awake. He loved hearing your voice. "You looked so tired, but I was so needy" he grunted as he felt you tighten around him, squeezing the backrest until his knuckles turned white, "I thought maybe, if I did it slowly you wouldn't wake up."
You hugged Jungkook's hips with your legs, while your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him close until he was close enough to kiss his lips. 
You tried to make the kiss slow and deep, but Jungkook seemed so desperate. You moaned as you felt him wrap one of his arms around your waist and lift you off the bed until you felt your chest crush against his. It didn't take him long to slip his tongue into your mouth.
You both broke the kiss when you ran out of air. Jungkook wasted no time, and quickly brought his lips down to your breasts, returning his focus to your nipples and how good it felt the way you squeezed each time he sucked on them hard.
You felt close, and it really was hard not to be when Jungkook was fucking and eating your breasts like it was the last time. You pulled his hair tightly, pulling his neck closer to your mouth, nibbling and sucking every space on his skin that looked too empty.
You smiled as you heard your name leave his lips between gasps.
"Noona" he whispered, letting his head fall on your shoulder, "I need...can I...can I…?". 
"You can cum inside" you kissed his head, feeling his cock stir inside you. Each time it felt even bigger, "It's okay, don't worry."
Jungkook sighed in relief, kissing and licking the skin on your shoulder, letting his hips bump against yours.
The sound of his skin against yours was getting louder and messier, as were the moans from both of you. 
With his mind too clouded to think clearly, but still quite aware of the situation, Jungkook lowered his hand all the way down, letting his index and ring fingers rub your clit, following the same messy, rapid rhythm his onslaught had.
You clenched your jaw, keeping a loud moan from leaving your lips. Your back curved the moment his fingers touched your sensitive spot.
Suddenly everything he did felt too much for you.
"I don't think I can take much more," he said between grunts, looking at you with dark, clouded eyes.
Seeing your boyfriend's reddened, swollen, glistening lips, his big eyes shining with desire and his messy hair covering his sweaty forehead was enough of a turn-on for you to squeeze his cock even tighter.
He moaned again, but unlike you, he didn't hold it back.
"It's okay, Jungkookie," You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling on it gently, "could you cum for me?" you whispered over his lips, licking the piercing that rested in the corner of it with the tip of your tongue.
Jungkook nodded quickly, letting your pussy milk his cock, and that was enough to cause the knot you felt in your belly to untie. Jungkook didn't stop moving until the last drop of his cum was inside you.
You both took a second before coming down from your euphoria. Jungkook fixed your shirt carefully, leaving a soft kiss on your neck as he finished. 
You smiled barely, caressing his cheek with your knuckles, "Aren't you going to get out of my pussy?" you asked teasingly.
Jungkook smiled back, but his smile was much bigger than yours, "No, you feel great."
You laughed helplessly, lowering your hands to his waist so you could pinch it gently. 
"Fine, but this time don't do anything, it's..." you looked at the clock on your bedside table, raising your eyebrows as you saw the time, "You seriously woke me up at five thirty in the morning so we could fuck??"
"We better just close our eyes and rest, we'll talk about this tomorrow" he kissed you shortly, before resting his head on your breasts again and settling back to sleep.
You just rolled your eyes in amusement, hugging Jungkook and letting tiredness take power over you again.
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Materlist.
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kuroppiii · 5 months ago
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  soft launch ᵕ̈        timeskip! sakusa kiyoomi x gn reader ˎˊ˗
⋮⋮ ˒ ₍ᐢ..ᐢ₎ 𖥻 ⿻ : it's just a silly   ⋮⋮  little tiktok, nothing major ... ⋮⋮  right ?
📋 content     ♡ # 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧 🐮     ♡ # 𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘵 🥛     ♡ # 2.6k 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴
🎶 on shuffle “ never lose me ” - flo milli ( specifically the trending clip of " yeah he my man , he was never your type . if you try me , ho it ' s on sight " , but whatever tiktok audio you ended up using is up to you lol <3 )
🧸 directory ‹ ✩  like what you read ? check out more of my blog !  •ᴗ•
💬 kuroppiii ─ “ first time i ' ve pulled myself together to write about sakusa bc when i think about him , i simply can ' t think straight . an exaggeration ? man i wish !! ”
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you weren’t anyone special, really. you lived your life, pursuing your goals and hobbies, spending time with those you love. there were things you were good at, sure, but any sort of recognition or praise for those things only ever came from those closest to you. if you walked down the street, no one would bat an eye. "ordinary" couldn't have described you any better.
your boyfriend on the other hand, star wing spiker and outside hitter of the msby jackals, jersey number 15, sakusa kiyoomi certainly was a bit extra-ordinary in the public's eye.
if you took any of his official social media accounts, they easily skyrocketed ahead of any of your accounts in the sheer numbers of following or likes or views. but that's only natural, as the reasons you love your boyfriend–talented, cool, handsome–surely would be shared by the thousands he's subjected to by being in the limelight of the popular and successful pro-volleyball team.
but what else is natural, is that you've always wanted to be able to "soft launch" him, your boyfriend. you've scrolled through your tiktok "for you" page and your pinterest feeds and have undoubtedly saved every "soft launch inspo <3" post you've seen.
the idea was just perfect, you thought–sakusa often prefers not having his face in photos or videos anyway.
to sakusa, however, well... he didn’t really get it until you sat down and had to explain it. you always found it ironic he was never the most active online despite having the bigger following count between the two of you, after all.
“so you want to go public?” he asked, a bit of surprise in his voice.
"well, yes. but also no," you tried to clarify, leaving him with an even more perplexed face that tugged at your lips as you smiled and calmly continued with your elaboration.
you and him have discussed how to navigate your relationship with his volleyball stardom in the past before. it's not like your closest friends and family didn't know about your relationship, but granted, some of your more casual friends and acquaintances who followed your socials probably didn't entirely know either.
the general public definitely did not know, though, of course. but that's why you'd just post something on your accounts, significantly smaller than his.
“are you okay with that?" you made sure to confirm with him, after explaining your thought process on the whole idea.
he came over to you and placed his hands on your hips gently, a concentrated look in attempts to understand your idea adorning his features as he spoke, “i mean, i'd love to be able to finally let everyone know about us–but really it's up to you if you're okay with it. when it comes to things like this—always has, love.”
and what he said was true, from the moment you started dating he was always trying to protect your peace from the media and reporters and cameras. to him, you were like his private repose from all that. but admittedly, as time went on, you both came to realize keeping your relationship under wraps could get pretty hard at times, especially when you wished to go on normal dates out and about instead of resorting to small secluded get-togethers with the handful of people you who knew or nights spent inside your home.
you shook your head as you reached up to brush some of his curls out of his face, revealing his beauty marks above his eye—brows subtly knit together as he considered how your idea might play out in the longrun.
his arms lovingly pull you even closer as you reassure him, "it's just my friends and family who might see it, anyway. it's just a fun little thing to do, omi, that's all!"
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،   そ   ✧   の後    🌱 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗻 ...
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a few days later, you and sakusa had an event to attend with the rest of his team. it was a nice dinner so you were all dressed up–the perfect get-up to record a small tiktok or two to satisfy your boredom as you waited for your boyfriend to finish getting ready himself.
as you scrolled through your saved audios, you stood by the humble expanse of wall where sakusa had some of his volleyball medals and trinkets displayed in your shared apartment. then it hit you: this would be the perfect opportunity for that soft launch you were thinking about.
he didn't even have to be there, you could just have his framed "sakusa 15" jersey and recognitions with his name on it in the background as you sang along to a song. it was simple. a little ostentatious? maybe. but you thought it was subtle and fun enough to entertain the people who followed you and were going to see it.
so you picked an audio and started recording. your accessories for going out that night glimmered with the gold medals on the wall in the dim lights of the apartment as you lip-synced to the lyrics, showing off your outfit with a slightly sly attitude of making claim to your relationship with sakusa–claim to what rightfully was yours.
but just as the timer on your video was up, you hear sakusa’s voice approaching from down the hallway, his watch clattering as he's trying to put it on, "what are you doing?"
you break out into a sheepish smile as you rush over to end the video timer manually, "nothing! let's head out!"
in the car on the way to the event, you posted the video and thought nothing about it. no tags, no caption, no nothing–just something cheeky for your friends and family to see and hopefully get a small kick out of.
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،   そ   ✧   の後    🌱 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗻 ...
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late the next morning after you wake up, you stretch over to your bedside table to grab your phone to do a first-thing-in-the-morning doom scroll. sakusa's still peacefully snoozing away–head tucked under your jaw, soft breaths fanning your neck, arm secured around your waist, and legs tangled with yours under the sheets–when you open up one of your socials and realize you've gained thousands of followers overnight... literally.
you swipe past notifications of your friends texting you dozens of messages to see that hundreds of comments have flooded the most recent post you made–pictures of you and those same friends on a day out in the city–no sakusa in sight yet a lot of the new comments gave mention to him.
almost thinking you're still asleep and dreaming, you scroll through the words total strangers have left for you. it was such a mixed bag: some were mean, some were just confused, and some were even very nice, complementing you on your appearance.
there were a few, however, that mentioned a certain "repost".
"here from the repost"
"RAN to see this after seeing the repost"
"it's been less than a day and there's already so many comments about the repost lol"
and so you go to look up your name with the word "repost" attached to it, and are met with dozens of articles about your "viral tiktok reposted by msby's sakusa kiyoomi seemingly hints at volleyball star's secret relationship".
shocked, but still trying not wake up said volleyball star with your reaction as he clung to you on your shared bed, you quickly switch over to your tiktok to look back at the video you had posted just the night before.
surely enough as you let the video play out, the buttons on the right-hand side of your phone screen displayed astronomically larger numbers than that you've ever seen something you've posted in your life track before.
as the video plays the moment sakusa had called out to you–with you smiling to somewhere off camera before getting up close to the camera and cutting off the recording–you look down lower on the screen and see “msby sakusa reposted”. his official account. (you knew this bc he had you help him set up his personal one, the name of which you set up to come up as simply his nickname amongst friends "omi" with the cleaning sponge and bubbles emoji.)
hearing the audio of the video, you can feel sakusa stir at your side, his brows furrow against your skin as he peeks out from under his messy bedhead of curls to look at what you could be watching so soon after waking up.
after processing it was a video of you, one of his hands wordlessly part from where it was snaked around your waist and reaches up to tap on the little heart icon on the side of your screen.
then his hand returns to where it was, and he retreats back to the space between your collarbone and your jaw, hoping to quickly be lulled back to sleep just for a bit more before you two would have to get up and get on with your day.
but after a brief moment, you can suddenly feel the vibration of his voice against your skin, groggy and sloughed down by drowsiness to a deep treble as he lazily mumbled, “oh... that was your phone. was wondering why it wasn’t liked yet. i could've sworn i did already...”
his words set loose butterflies in your stomach, knowing despite his limited time spent online, he still does everything to let you know he loves you, even if it takes making a small heart icon light up on a video you post. but soon that warm feeling goes away, as your concern quickly overcomes it given the current situation at hand.
“omi," you coo, an attempt to not let on in your voice how you were slightly freaking out as to not disturb his peaceful state, "did you repost it? my video?”
“of course i did,” he replied in a heartbeat. you could feel his breathing start to slow down, him on the brink of slipping back into continuing his slumber.
you also felt he didn't quite realize the implications of what he did.
“you looked nice in it,” you hear him drawl out, after being met with your contemplative silence.
you hummed as you asked a follow up question, “did you do it with your personal account?”
“mhmm,” he sounds so content when he hums back in reply, bliss apparent as he spoke being tangled up with you as sunlight peeked in through the bedroom windows.
one of your hands paused the tiktok from playing and departed from where it clutched your phone to comb through sakusa's hair–partly to calm your nerves and partly in adoration at the realization he was so eager to show you his affection, that he didn’t check which account he was on before he reposted your video.
you tried your best to say your next words carefully and gently, “well i don’t think you did, babe."
"hm?"
trying to act nonchalant about it, you continue, "i gained, like, a thousand followers while we were sleeping.”
"hm?!!"
you no longer feel his curls under your fingertips as he retreats from his little hiding spot, now confronting your phone screen where surely enough, he caught a glimpse of the numbers your video was doing, as well as the little tag that, yes, it does look like he reposted your video using his official msby account.
he was wide awake now as one of his hands go to rake through his locks, and he starts rambling despite how his voice definitely wasn't caught up from his sleep yet, “y/n, angel, i'm so sorry. i didn't even check, i should've. i should've been more careful. now everyone know's about it, and it's all my fault. is anyone being mean to you about it? i can say something, or post something, right now, or—“
you cut his running mouth off with a kiss, dropping your phone in your lap to cup the sides of his face before you pull away.
"you're not... you're not mad at me?" he asks softly, eyes searching yours nervously.
a moment ago you were feeling a little more than uneasy at the thought that you weren't going to be just an ordinary person anymore. but now, seeing how much sakusa cared and doted over you, you realize you'll be fine. because you won't be dealing with it alone. you had someone extraordinary to be by your side each step of the way.
“no, omi. i'm not mad," you tell him through a warm smile, "at least we don't have to hide it anymore."
you feel him slightly nod in your hands, still on edge as he intently listens and hangs onto your every word. you could never get mad at that face. you can't resist the urge to brush your nose against his because of how cute you thought your boyfriend was.
"and besides, it still wasn’t a hard launch. we don't have to confirm anything just yet. so by social media rules... i can still post some more soft launches before we do that, no?" you say with a hint of mischief in your tone, making sakusa break out into a smile as he chuckles and places his hands over yours at the sides of his face.
"y'know what we always say," you continue with a more genuine voice, barely above a whisper, "we won’t let them get to us. we don't owe them anything–let them figure it out. what’s done is done, so let’s just have fun with it, okay?”
you're blessed with the sight of sakusa's dimpled smile growing even wider and before you know it he's all over you, on top of you smothering you with kisses, making you laugh as you try to pry him off of you.
he finally pauses to hover over you, his eyes with the slightest creases at their corners because of how he was smiling down at you, “thanks for bearing with me. not just my social media incompetence, but–for dealing with my… everything, i guess. i love you.”
the sheets ruffle around you as you gingergly wrap your arms up and around his neck, “i love you too omi. always will.”
you reach to grab your phone, buried somewhere in the blanket draped over the two of you, and sakusa rolls off of you as he finds it first and hands it to you. now it was your turn to ramble on, “how about we do the one where you stand behind me and hold the phone really high? or the one where you pick me up and spin me around in a random parking lot? or maybe i should make a video wearing your jersey–? oh my god that'd be diabolical, don't you think omi?"
he laughs into your shoulder at your eagerness as you spend the rest of the morning scrolling through soft launch videos online that you can save to copy later.
“i’ll do anything," he tells you, "i want to show you off–because now i can properly do it the way you've always deserved, love.”
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       ⇩  ⇩  ⇩ 𝘽𝙊𝙉𝙐𝙎 ::
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a few weeks (and a few more soft-launch tiktoks you both had fun with) later, although you and sakusa never publicly confirmed anything yet, his fans practically accepted that you and him were an item.
you even had the pleasure of seeing some fan-made edits of you come across your feed and appreciatively dropping a few likes on them yourself. but there was one in particular when you peeked into the comments of the video.
the original poster had commented on their own edit: "GUYS SAKUSA GAVE MY EDIT A LIKE WTF???"
you laughed out loud at the comment, considering as how your dear and darling boyfriend had never mentioned his apparent viewing and liking of these edits of you online as of late.
your boyfriend may have learned his lesson about public reposts, but it looks like his attempts at covering up what he hits "like" on needed a bit of work, too.
326 notes · View notes
secretress · 5 months ago
Text
❝𝐏𝐀𝐂: 𝐏𝐬𝐬𝐭, 𝐡𝐞𝐲? 𝐇𝐞𝐲? 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐈 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧? 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞? 𝐈’𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐢𝐭.❞
Who is the next person coming into your life?
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Pac summary!
🦋 Who are they?
🦋 The reason they are coming.
🦋 End results of it.
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Moodboard | Divider
Pile I
Who are they?
King of pentacles reversed and death. 
Uptight. The person coming into your life after you heal some open wounds is uptight. Good grief, they are stubborn as hell. Intuition tells me this person is here to end a karmic cycle for you. This person is very ambitious with what they want. So if you are in the way, best believe you aren’t going to be saved. They do not care about other people’s feelings if it means they can have what they want. So if you want to be kind to someone like this (as you always have to others), then go ahead, but remember that this is to end a cycle. So make sure you are aware of this. Intuition tells me they are successful, they have a lot of wisdom in the material world, and they give me lex luthor vibes, but healthy? Ironically, I am hearing they are a healthy person but can be immature when it comes to their goals. You are someone who doesn’t like change, and you always resist the change coming into your life because you are scared. That fear will be removed with this person. I do advise you to be alert around them since they aren’t a ray of sunshine. The death card explains that this person will make a meaningful change in your life, but you must take it. 
The reason they are coming.
Change. Card came out so quickly. They will appear in your life quickly, kind of like a spontaneous decision on their side since they know you. And you know them damn well. I keep hearing about a breakup, so it’s possible that for some of you they are an ex, and for the rest it’s an old acquaintance. 
The lovers and ten of pentacles.
The lovers confirms the ex coming back into your life if you resonate with it. As for the rest of you, it is possible that it’s a relative you stopped speaking to out of disrespect or a third party you left for a relationship. I feel a lot of third party energy, it’s possible it’s someone who didn’t approve of your relationship or marriage or wanted to steal your lover or you. So the reason they are coming into your life isn’t for forgiveness or that they are sorry, it’s for their own security. Having you in their life provided them material wealth or some type of abundance. They were able to leech off on you and they want to do the same. This is why intuition mentioned a karmic cycle. You must end this and not allow them to come into your life. Intuition tells me, ‘’leeches, leeches. Always coming back for more. Do not be your past self. Acceptance is key. Leave them.’’ 
End results of it.
Seven of cups reversed, knight of wands reversed, and the moon reversed.
You have all three reversed cards. Ouch. This is about a blockage in your life, and this person is truly not interested in you in the way you hope. Stop seeing the good in people, especially those who hurt you. It’s fine to see the best in people, but not those who hurt you, love. They aren't good for you and surely, your healing shouldn't go in vain, right? There are two pathways here. 
You let them into your life: if you decide to let them into your life, all your hard work of healing goes in vain. You will be miserable and become restless. You will struggle to keep up with your life and fuck up your bedtime routine. Fuck your grades and start gaining weight from stress despite having a good metabolism. I also see acne breakouts, and you are crying constantly. Some hair loss and a lot of fear are running through me which is how you will feel. This person will be arrogant and stubborn, as mentioned, and make you lose your self-worth again. You will be stuck in the same cycle again, and that’s not worth it. Unless, of course, you are interested in being your own enemy? Don't be, and do not let your past self hard work in healing go to crap. 
If you don't let them in: you will be slightly happier. Not in a bad way, but you are still healing, and you will feel guilty for not allowing them to come back. But you will find the clarity you need and realize many things about yourself. You will start to become stronger and learn that your intense emotions are not your enemy. You will start becoming creative again and start to draw, animate, read, exercise, etc. Right now, it’s kind of distant with your hobbies, but that’s okay because healing takes time, so stop being harsh on yourself. Anyway, your control over your mental diet will improve, and everything will become positive for you. You will eat healthier and, overall, become healthier. You will find your passions again and find a new job in your hometown, and it will give you the abundance you need to start anew. 
Masterlist.
Pile II 
Who are they?
The cards came out so fast that one of them almost fell on my floor. Their energy is wild. I feel fast-paced and on pure adrenaline, as if I were Superman. 
King of cups, reversed ace of wands, and reversed five of wands.
You have two reversed of wands in your pile. Intuition says this person is afraid of planning ahead and always does things spontaneously; I keep hearing rule breaking. They like to do things to the extreme and make things fun, but they struggle with being decisive. I also hear ‘’fire, fire, fire—help, there is a fire! Just joking.’’ They like to joke around a lot; everything is a playful banter with them, and they will help you ease up a bit. This pile is honestly so beautiful. The king of cups is about compassion and empathy, and that’s the overall energy. A lot of people who are troublemakers get a bad rep and that’s the same with your pile. Make sure to be gentle with them, because underneath all that badass energy, they are a pile of goo and sensitivity. They are amazing at communication and honestly remind me of Ace from one piece. Intuition says, ‘’the sweetest people always get a bad reputation.’’ I hear that sometimes they ruin an opportunity for themselves because they do not have the motivation to keep going, and I hear that depression is something that they have dealt with or will deal with. And yet, with your energy, you make them want to improve. (psst, a love interest). 
The reason they are coming.
Aside from the love interest, I’ll come back to that later. Intuition says they will bring your life pure happiness, but it will be a wild ride. 
Queen of cups, the tower reversed, the chariot, and judgment.
Oh wow, wow, wow. Hey guys, so you are in your spiritual awakening right now? Congratulations on that! That's a huge accomplishment, so I'm proud of you. Moving on, so they are coming into your life because you ended a painful cycle in your life that has caused you to have a glow up both mentally and physically. Congratulations on the weight loss or weight gain too!! You should be proud of yourself and show more compassion to yourself with the queen of cups. Tarot says you need to realize how hard you worked to get where you are and understand that you will gain or lose weight more, but you cannot do that without accepting the progress you made. Stop looking at the big picture and focus on the smaller details. Our bodies change all the time, just as a plant grows into something beautiful, but it takes time. Everything needs patience, unless it’s a gut feeling and you have to make a spontaneous decision. They are coming into your life because you ended a cycle in your life. You found something you wanted, and you decided to make an inevitable change in your life. This change has made you stressed out, but it has also made your body healthier. I need you to stop worrying about the bigger picture and focus on the smaller details. Intuition says, ‘’love. I am proud of you. The hardship you went through to get where you are is amazing. Have more compassion and self-love for yourself. This person cannot appear and be your lover in the near future without this. Love is necessary within before it’s given outward. ’’ They are coming to make you feel warm and loved. They want to be your rock and your knight. They want to see you happy and lively. They want you to stop being so rigid and focused on your hobbies. They want you to travel with them and fall for them, just as they will fall for you. Some of you are hopeless romantics, and so are they. I keep hearing a ‘’match made in heaven.’’ Congratulations on a healthy relationship. 
End results of it.
The reversed eight of swords came flying so fast, fell on my floor, and the first word to appear was, ‘’that’s too much love.’’ This person is going to be so loving, oh my god. So damn cute. I see a bunch of flowers on your table with love letters written on each of them, always saying how much they adore you, but all with details. This person loves you so much, and the amount of time they take to show you both with words and action is so mesmerizing. 
Eight of swords reversed, five of pentacles, and the empress. 
Awh, okay. So basically, a lot of you struggled to believe in the idea of love after encountering a lot of shitty people who shamed you for your weight. This caused you to hate yourself further, and you stopped caring about your emotions and yourself. The idea of loving yourself made you feel grossed out, and whenever you saw confident people with your body weight, you judged them internally, never outwardly, because you found it wrong. Because you have learned to heal yourself, you were able to find freedom within. You were able to heal yourself from those thoughts as they haven’t appeared since, but they are resurfacing in your obsession to become skinnier or gain more weight. But the person coming into your life is here to teach you how to harness your emotions into something beautiful. ‘’I want you to blossom into the beautiful flower that you are.’’ That is what I heard from them, which explains the imagery. They want you to release your limiting beliefs about yourself and help you understand that you control your life, not these thoughts. They will teach you how to become more confident—not falsely confident, but genuinely confident. You're going to feel so good, and I'm so happy for you. In a way, they will teach you how to take care of yourself without being so harsh on yourself. And make you feel happy. With them, you will have a happy, healthy relationship with them, amazing communication, and you both will be so loyal to one another.
Masterlist.
Pile III
Who are they?
There are multiple people coming into your life. As I was shuffling, so many cards came out, and one card flipped, indicating it was your card. Intuition tells me, ‘’a lot of people are coming, but you will be able to spot one person to come. It will be magical.’’ Someone is coming into your life, but you have a lot of people stopping you from allowing them to come, hence ‘’multiple people coming in.’’ This person will teach you a lot of things, but truly bring out your inner child and help them heal. Lots of tea parties, and I had an urge to listen to Alice’s theme song. 
Two of pentacles reversed, ace of cups reversed, and the lovers.
A lot of you repress your emotions and wonder why the things you want won’t come into your life. I was telling someone today, ‘’if you do not heal with your repressed or bottled up emotions, then you cannot get what you want. Your thoughts create your reality; the things you say to yourself are what come towards you.’’ This is what you needed to hear. You honestly struggle to believe in yourself and lack confidence and self-love. A lot of people have mentioned that to you, but you ignore them. The person coming into your life will say the same thing. I am hearing they can be a teacher? Something with a nurturing vibe or mother nature; someone very calm, perhaps a bit too calm and very sweet. I feel drowsy, but in a relaxed way; that’s how you will feel with them. They are going to be honest with you and could never lie to you unless it’s to protect you. Intuition says they will teach you a lot about the world since you’re always in your room or feel caged in. a lot of overbearing and/or overprotecting parents/guardians. And they will teach you how to balance your intuition and feelings because you mistake your intuition for your anger or sadness. 
The reason they are coming.
I feel suicidal energy with all of you. And I feel so empty inside. At first, I thought it was with me until I saw your cards. 
Reversed ace of cups, reversed ten of cups, and reversed four of cups. 
Awh, love. You are so worthy and loved; maybe you don't see it with others, but here with me, you are. I love you lots, and I am very proud of you that you are moving forward in life despite the struggles you are facing. Understanding your emotions is hard, isn’t it? Everything is a mess with you. You think of yourself one way, then it changes a lot, and you feel like you are lying to other people, but guess what? You are not. Change is about to happen, and you are figuring out who you are, and that’s okay. It’s okay to not know what you want in your life, that’s what it means to be alive. I hear that some of you are part of the furry community and do not feel loved or accepted, but you are accepted here, and the person coming in will feel the same. So they are coming into your life to show you that you are loved and accepted. With the four of cups reversed, tarot tells me you are struggling to find motivation in your life and find new opportunities. Remember, a flower cannot grow without sunlight, water, or patience. So you cannot find opportunities without patience, self-love, and acceptance of yourself. The person wants to show you that and give you what you need. And I keep hearing discord. Since a lot of you have broken families, the person will be coming online, but mainly on Discord. 
End results of it.
Happiness, so much happiness. Your future self is happy and fulfilled. They are comfortable with who they are and express themselves better because their family also accepts them. But this was done with a lot of patience and understanding. Communicating and understanding one another, teaching each other about their cultures, traditions, etc. 
Three of pentacles.
This confirms it for you. The three of pentacles are about positive endings, and you are on the right track. The opportunities you have been craving will come as you speak to this person. They will teach you so many things without expecting anything in return. They remind me of the dad or mom friend, always showering their friends with so much love and yet not caring for themselves. So teach them how to let go of being so selfless and teach them how to take care of themselves. After all, this isn’t a one sided friendship; things should become equal. I know that you guys will get a lot of rewards after this person meets you. Like the things you wanted before? You already have them. You will feel so relaxed and happy; a lot of you haven’t smiled, and if you have, it was fabricated. It will be genuine with them. They make your life better, and your family will know about them and think about allowing you guys to meet up. I hear that you have mentioned it or that both of you are comfortable with it. Either way, both of you would be down for it. 
Masterlist.
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eldritch-spouse · 5 months ago
Note
Can we get Santi making his match ~Properly~ apologize after they gave in and resummoned him after banishing him?
[Ohhh I'm gonna hurt you good. Fem reader.]
TW: Manipulation; Brief but descriptive past gore; Struggling with trauma; Angst and abuse.
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Ironic, isn't it?
You did it. You successfully banished a high-ranking demon from your life. Not just any high-ranker, one that claimed to be your "match". You had assumed that was just another appeal to emotions back then, a trick to wrap your around his pinkie further, but you've done a lot of research in order to successfully pull off what you did, and there's no lie to be found in those words.
Few humans can drive their matches away for good, very few. You have the scars to show for it, certainly. The ragged rifts on your limbs from when Santi had sunk his claws so very deep into your flesh, raking them down and tearing your muscles apart in the process. You have a bad eye. It's not blind, but it's definitely not as good as its twin. Lastly, of course, there's the dead and withered mark on your mons... Faded, but still there, still visible, still mocking you every single time you look at yourself in the mirror.
It's been years.
Yet you still scrub at it ruthlessly, hoping that it'll disappear little by little, like a grease stain. The nightmares remain, feeling it throb through your entire organism, glowing that hellish magenta, signaling the nearness of your personal castigator. Your unrequited pest that, much like a cockroach, refuses to die.
It's been years...
And he's still haunting you.
He's in Hell, probably in Lust if you had to guess, where he belongs- And he's still fucking up your life. Poetic, a true demon.
The exhaustion you felt the moment Santi successfully got phased back into the fires has stayed since. It dug roots into your soul, hugging it possessively, his parting gift to you- Numbness.
You reinvented your life.
New hairstyle, new fashion, new place to live, new interests, new friends. It felt like the only way to be free of the incubus was to become anyone but the person he claimed to have fallen in love with.
No matter what you did, what new hobby you took on or what personal goal you achieved, you never felt accomplished, never felt good. Psychologists treated your supposed chronic depression with every tactic they had, only succeeding in making you feel even more pathetic when every single one of them failed.
It was clear you were not in the mindset to begin any type of relationship, but... Your libido demanded it of you. It's unclear what changed your appetite. Was it the mark? Was it the constant sexual contact you had before? Or is it just that you can't satisfy yourself anymore? Maybe all.
You tried sex again once.
It was... A monumental disappointment.
Enough to make you swear it off, and live in a gross state of constant frustration, unsolvable no matter how much you pushed yourself into new spaces to attain new sensual experiences. Maybe, maybe you just had to try something different, right? Try a few kinks.
No, not even the almost shameful collection of toys you've amassed since Santi's been gone have done a single thing to relieve you properly. Every orgasm feels dull and requires too much effort.
You started hating yourself when the only thing that seemed to make you cum faster was thinking of him.
The image of your very own abuser above you, whispering sweet encouragements in your ear and moaning as he sunk his cock into you. The thought of his skin on yours was enough, it was effective- And the wave of pure self-hatred that rolled over you when you orgasmed crying his name was strong enough to make you break down into screaming tears, naked and soaked and humiliated.
You'd wake up in fetal position, throat hoarse, the crust of your own pleasure sticking to your thighs, numb as per usual.
It's been years, of this.
And today, you've given up.
It wasn't a spur of the moment decision, of course not. It was more of a slow spiral into hopelessness.
Is this misery going to be the rest of your life? This insupportable existence.
You'd rather never live another day than allow it to continue. And if, to fix it, you need Santi again... Then you need him again.
Is it weak of you, to do this? Maybe a stronger, more dignified person would choose death. But you've been worn down, you've never recovered, you're still on his fucking palm!
Were you ever truly free of Santi?
What does it matter, right? If you're still going back to him after all this.
Making a summoning circle is easier, certainly more so than cleverly hiding a banishment circle. Droplets of shame drip down your cheeks as you arrange it, as you come to terms with your defeat.
In spite of his rank, there's no need for a big offering. Santi will know it is you who's calling him, because of your blood. You're letting him know preemptively. An orgasm should suffice.
There's no need to think about his sigil, the very shape of it is embedded on your frontal lobe, a pesky cattle tag clipped onto your body. It's on your fucking cunt, the blasted thing.
There's a long moment of contemplation where you stare at the spacious circle in your living room. A brief streak of resilience has you wanting to put everything away, except your legs don't budge, stone-like.
Once more, your mind says no, but your body says yes.
Bile rises in your throat, yet if there's anything you've learned to do by now, it's swallowing.
There's an exhausted grimace in your complexion as you sink to your knees before the circle, pushing panties aside, and fall into your guiltiest pleasure. People use the term very loosely these days, you've noticed.
It should disgust you how easy it is, how quick you approached a peak, how the anticipation of feeling his hellishly delightful touch brought you that much closer, that much faster, that much wetter- You're a loser.
And maybe you deserve this. Whatever comes of this.
As soon as you orgasm, the circle pulses, your blood seems to sink into the demonic sigil, and a stillness follows, lulled by the hum of a portal waiting to manifest.
Torpid hues study it. Seconds pass. A minute maybe.
A hysteric little giggle escapes as you wonder if he'll deny you now. Reject you.
No. No, he wouldn't- That filthy piece of scum would suck the grime off your shoes sooner than reject you. Because that's all he is, a worthless fucking worm who should be grateful you're letting him see your face again.
Eventually, a rift cracks through the floor, widening, the symphony of Hell echoing out in a scream of triumph. A hand pushes through, as dark and large as you remember it, sinking into the first anchor it finds. Soon, a great body is pushed through.
Santi.
... Santi?
Your breath catches in your throat.
He looks... Off. Turned away from you, crouched in the circle, it's hard to put your finger on what's changed, but he feels different. His horns have grown bigger, sharper.
Motionless, you watch a thick tail twitch. He rises to a stand carefully, joints cracking when he rolls his neck. God, that's not his usual posture at all. And then, you get to see his face. Gaunt cheeks, a larger, darker mouth with unnatural teeth. Santi's charm had been, in large part, his ability to toe the line between handsome and monstrous, taking advantage of his inhuman abilities to impose and using his sightly features to cause a "scared but horny" effect. That line has been long eroded, if you had to guess.
What strikes you the most are the eyes.
His stare has changed completely. The demon looks... Horrifying. Where once there had been something sharp and seductively warm to hide the evil beneath, there's now a corrosive transparency oozing off him, an animal carelessness. The left eye is particularly dulled, having lost pigment, the pupil won't move, lodged in an upwards position as if midway through rolling back into his skull. The whisker on that eye is also damaged, it looks to have been cut.
Certainly, it wasn't just you that changed.
You both look like complete shit. Well, he looks like shit as much as a concubus can...
Still, once he's fully turned towards his summoner, Santi attempts to put on a familiar mask.
The result is a far cry from the past.
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" Minx. "
The incubus nods, his gaze blazing into you, unreadable.
Your mind wars between fear and irritation. The nerve of this motherfucker, to immediately address you the same way he did when you were but his mindless cur! When he did unspeakable things to you in the name of love. This anger is tempered by the shock of his rougher tenor, by the simple fact that you hadn't heard Santi's voice in so long- It feels too real, it feels like he can hurt you just with it.
Returning the favor, you call him by something that'll make him feel vulnerable.
" Noph'ae. "
A slight wrinkle.
Success.
His chest inflates. You think Santi's about to start shouting at you, but he just exhales afterwards. This happens a few times before you realize he's smelling something.
" It's been a while since I've been to the surface. The smells are so different, the lights, you take it for granted until it's stolen from you. "
He stole a lot of things from you that you took for granted too.
When Santi's tongue snakes out, it becomes clear he's now just trying to catch whiff of your recent arousal. Whatever trace of it still wanders.
Surprisingly, all the incubus does afterwards is just... Sit down, in the middle of the circle, continuing to look you up and down, as placid as can be.
You hadn't expect this, needless to say. You assumed there would be anger, indignation, a vicious desire to maul you or demands to let him free. Mockery even. Not this. Not nothing.
Your attempts to stare him down and coax some kind of response -Not that you even know what you want to hear from him. An apology? A justification?- Are fruitless. He just stares back, and speaks when he pleases.
" I see life has treated you harshly. Pity. "
" Shut- " The anger lodged in your throat like a knot makes you choke. " Shut the fuck up. "
He does, waiting. A few seconds pass before you can gather enough calm to say anything.
" I hate you. "
Santi blinks slowly, the words having no effect on him. God knows you've screamed them a hundred times and they never amounted to anything. Why would they now?
Still, the fact that he seemingly won't react to them drives you mad enough to pull at your own hair in a small tantrum.
He smiles faintly at the show.
" Would it please you to hear me say the same? " Santi interrupts the pain, making you all but glare venomously at him.
" It would make you happier if I said I hate you too, right? After you banished me. That I only exist to make you hurt. That I answered your call just so I could wait for a moment to kill you. " He sighs. " That's what you want. "
" But that's not the truth. "
When Santi's expression softens, and he spends several moments openly observing you in an almost nostalgic manner, a pit of dread forms in your stomach.
You start shaking your head. " No. No, don't you fucking dare- "
" I love you. "
A shriek bursts out of you. " You piece of shit! You don't know what love is, you know fuck all about love, all you know is how to break someone down to nothing! "
New tears follow tracks already left behind. " You can't even apologize to me. You're just soulless, aren't you? "
" If ever there was someone I loved, it was you. " He taps the floor with his clawtips as he speaks. " I only wanted us to be. You felt it too, but you kept fighting it. I would never willingly let you take away the best feeling I had ever felt. It was my paradise. "
" It was my Hell. "
He frowns.
" Don't lie to yourself. "
Before you can bark anything else at the demon, he continues.
" It was 'your Hell', but here you are, calling for me again. " Silence. " Doesn't add up. "
There's so much you want to say. So much you want to shout at him. Too many ways to contest his arrogance, his shamelessness, too many ways you'd like to torture him. The rage fueling you, generating those fantasies, dies when you realize it's all pointless.
Santi won't ever believe he's wrong. He won't ever say what he did to you wasn't justified. You could probably kill him, he'd still think he was right all along.
It rips the small, sick joy you could attain from picturing him groveling for all his mistakes. Talking to Santi about this is like debating a brick wall. It's time to move on.
He reads the defeat on your face plainly, wisely deciding not to poke further.
" What happened to your eye? "
The incubus tilts his head. " Concerned for me, love? " Again, he hardly allows you to inhale. " I felt that we should match. "
Confusion and anger is a very bad mix. " Is that your idea of a joke?! "
" No I... " Santi has the decency to look away, if even for a second. " I wanted to punish myself. It was never my intent to blind you. "
You huff, then make a broad gesture over your face. " And the rest? "
He lets the question hang for a while, then shrugs. " I've changed. Didn't you? "
As much as you want to deny it, squish it like a bug, reality is that he's been miserable too. It shows. This should make you happy, but all you can feel is a mysterious frustration.
Only in the ensuing silence do you begin to hear the gentle pitter patters of raindrops on the windows. A soothing sound, hushing the turmoil in your racing mind for a fraction of a heavenly beat.
" Will you break the circle, love? " Santi eventually concedes, leaning the least bit forward.
The fact that he's the first to address the matter of his summoning is a small victory for you, one that doesn't please you that much, though you still eat it up. It must be hard for him, seeing you after so long, yet not being able to touch. Must be torture. Good.
There's an avenue of power you'll always have over Santi, a double-edged sword actually, but he's more affected by this than you are. As his match, you are the incubus' most favored meal, and just being in front of him in nothing but your panties is likely chipping at his composure in fast swings.
Not that you are faring that much better, your current arousal may be buried under the scent of your orgasm, but it will fade soon, there'll be nothing to mask the want then. Even if he's endured some changes, the demon before you is still the one that made you reach platforms of pleasure previously unfathomable to you. Even when you didn't want it, even when... The mark...
How can you still want him, even after all this time?
" No. "
The answer comes easily.
" How am I to offer my services then? "
" You're not touching me! " Of course he will, who are you even lying to anymore?
Santi rolls his neck, tail thumping idly while confusion writes itself on his complexion.
Wordlessly, you reach for the waistband of your underwear, removing it slowly. The cloth is aimlessly twirled around your index, then thrown half-heartedly into the circle.
Predictably, pathetically, Santi swipes it before the thing can even make contact with the ground, bringing it to his face instantly. The sound he emits is like a sobbed groan, he rubs himself on it like a house cat, breathing it in, drooling on the fucking thing as he appears to damn near drug himself on the scent of your pussy.
It's satisfying.
It feels powerful, in a depraved and unhealthy way.
Which is why you never expected him to turn to you with a look that gushed utter vitriol.
" Break this circle. " He demands, finally using a voice befitting of his rank and infernal authority.
It's always a shock when Santi does this. The demon so deliberately maintains his tone to a seductive lulling purr, that when his patience chips just enough to let the real beast slip, it thunders through your composure.
" N- No! Be silent! "
Even to yourself, you sound like a frightened bleating animal.
" Pathetic! " The incubus laughs, straightening, leaning those great horns forward just to have you watch when he hooks your panties in the left one. Like a prize. " You summon me out of desperation, then play footsie and cocktease like a coward- "
" Desperation?! " Your own anger rises like burning bile. " Typical of a fucking demon to think so highly of yourself! "
Santi pauses to look at you quietly, wordlessly and petulantly asking you if you're sure that's your answer. A challenge.
" I don't need you for anything! "
" Are you hearing yourself, Minx? Why am I here, then? " A dark finger wags. " Better yet, why did you summon me and not another concubus, hm? "
Wracking your brain for answers that are anything but the truth takes time, time Santi won't offer you.
" I'll tell you why. Because you made a hotheaded decision and you've been living with the consequences of it for all this time. And you can't take it anymore. "
White knuckled fists begin to quake.
" So you banished a high-ranker, ooh la la, quite the feat! " Sardonic clapping rings across the room. " But you don't know how to get that out, do you? "
When Santi points at the mark previously hidden by your panties, goosebumps cover you from head to toe.
" You don't know how to make your mind forget me, much less your needy, luscious little body. " That pointed index moves from your pelvis to your chest. " I rocked you to the very core! The same way you took me by the neck, woman. "
All you can do is gulp, and all he can do is watch the motion of your throat.
" And it's not so easy, shattering our bond, love. We have a beautiful thing, that you've tried to ruin. I still don't know why... But what I do know, is that you've put us both through torture, isn't that right? Or do you think you were the only one miserable all this time? "
For some reason, no matter how angry you are and how much you want to say, the words won't leave your mouth.
" Was it fun? Tell me, did you have a good time? " He's already laughing. " Was it nice to never feel relief, to crave pleasure you could never achieve on your own again? This isn't like smoker's withdrawal, it doesn't go away. Did any body you ever sampled after mine offer even a tenth of what you had? "
It feels like your airway is tightening.
" No. Of course not. You never got it through your skull that neither of us had a choice in this. There are some things in life we don't get to choose, right Minx? We're each other's matches, and we have real chemistry together. That scares the living soul out of you, doesn't it? That you'll always want me. "
A choked cough makes it past your lips. He's as close to you as he can get from within the carved, advanced circle. No salt here, Santi would bulldoze through it immediately.
" As much as I love you, my sweetest delight, you are selfish. More than me. Because you never stopped to put yourself in my shoes. I am just as much of a slave to you as you are to me, there's no denying that. "
The next words he throws at you lash welts into the very fabric of your being.
" Even worlds apart, with all the wards and circles and magical aid, you will still be mine. And I will still be yours. "
Hearing him say what you had recently come to realize makes you deflate in a way you can't even describe. It's the final nail on the coffin you had no idea you were inside of. The last embers of a flame before wind blows it away. He's silent while the waves of defeat wash over your figure.
Several seconds later, Santi resumes with a somewhat calmer lilt.
" We'll never be free of each other, not without the type of pain that would make you rather die than keep breathing. That's what I've been trying to tell you from the very start... So, why don't we start over? "
You hadn't realized that you had begun glaring at the floorboards in the middle of his speech, only now cautiously rising your gaze to the agitated demon trying to gather his own calm.
" After you apologize to me, naturally. "
Finally, your mouth opens. " A- Apologize? "
Santi huffs. " Well yes, love. None of this would have transpired if you had just listened to me all those years back. I rather think I deserve this much, don't you? "
You hate him. You hate him so much. But, most of all, you hate that he's right.
Your fate had already been decided long before you could begin to make a choice. You won't get rid of him, because just like Santi says, even when he's away, your body will torture you to find him again. And it doesn't stop, because you don't have the means to make it stop. He said it perfectly, which might mean he's been mulling over this conversation as many times as you have mentally imagined it.
You're just so tired. Even if every ounce of rage in your heart demands that you send him back into the fire and tough it out, even if it kills you- Another part of you craves rest, comfort, calm. It wants the normalcy and modicum of well-being you'd sometimes feel before.
It wants this to end, at any cost.
Maybe you do have to learn to live with him.
Because it's not a choice for you. For your health or mental stability.
Maybe if things are done just right, you can mold him into a more tolerable person, you can teach him to be more than he once was. It's disgusting that you have to fix Santi, but it's the only way, isn't it? That's the only way to make it work and spare yourself unnecessary torment.
And, to fix him, you first need to make amends.
" I'm... " It's as if your tongue won't move to form the rest of the sentence. It has to be forced. " I'm sorry, Santi. "
Perhaps the only thing that makes it sound sincere is the fact that you're already emotionally exhausted.
The demon hums. " Very nice, that's a start. " You quirk a brow. " But for a proper apology, you should break this circle. "
A denial almost slips off your tongue without thinking, making the demon's gaze harden. Realistically, there's no escaping this. You're going to have to let him out one way or another, might as well have it be a gesture of cooperation. For a better future.
Sighing, you reach behind the slightly shifted couch, knocking three glowing crystals out of the specific order they were previously in. These same crystals were the ones you used to create a circle not even a high-ranker like Santi can break through- They were incredibly expensive, and acquiring them without raising his suspicion proved to be one of the most anxious episodes of your entire life.
Instantly, the glow that once contained Santi and limited the summoning rift's width fades away, leaving only hasty chicken scratch markings on the ground. He looks mildly bewildered that you actually followed through, but the expression wipes itself away quickly.
There's barely enough time for you to turn before Santi's all but prowling after you, a massive body colliding with yours while restless hands instantly dart everywhere.
He seems to want to do everything at once. In his desperate longing, the incubus crushes you against him, palms grabbing the globes of your ass then squishing the fat of your sides as he buries his face into your neck and snarls hard enough to make you quiver like a leaf in the wind. One second he's rubbing your legs luridly, the next he's rolling your tits and trying to lock his teeth around your neck. It's too much too fast, but exactly what your body had been craving for endless time. It wanted his attention, wanted his soothing- Your whines fall somewhere between frustrated and inconsolable, largely drowned out by his vaguely intimidating calls of delight.
Beastly in his want, Santi licks your jaw to a humid, tingling mess before forcibly crashing his lips unto yours, easily weaseling his tongue inside. Traces of your own arousal linger, but are otherwise negligible compared to the euphoria of his kiss. It's just as powerfully addictive as it was the very first time he selfishly stole the gesture.
And, if there's one good thing about Santi's irresistible nature, it's that his pheromones and fluids won't allow you to feel guilt for enjoying this. What a wonderful excuse, to let yourself sink into the experience bereft of all shame.
You can't hope to halt the noise of animal pleasure that rips itself out your throat, something he moans for, happily receiving and encouraging it. Santi's fevered hand eventually snakes downward and palms the faded mark still clinging to you, before reaching further and offering you just the briefest feathered brush against your clitoris. He soaks his digits in your generous wetness to make the motions even more fluid, the teasing very quickly has you shifting your hips in between heated kisses and breathless panting.
No matter how much you wordlessly beg him to indulge what you'd both been deprived of for far too long, Santi doesn't cave. In fact, he growls warningly whenever you try to buck, claws digging into your meat so you can't rock yourself on him.
" None will ever compare. " He finally parts, mouth as coated in your drool as yours is in his. There's a dreamy look in those tired eyes. " I wracked the Rings looking for someone that could satisfy me, and I went mad along the way Minx, but it was okay. "
A force on your shoulders takes you by surprise, the ensuing impact of bare knees on wooden tiles sobers you up gradually. Quiet clicks follow when Santi takes a few steps back.
" Because I knew you'd call for me again. "
What a nice way to say he knew you'd come crawling right back like a bitch in heat...
As you kneel there in disheveled confusion, Santi merely beckons you forward with a deceitfully warm smile.
It's obvious he wants you to crawl, but you still try to play dumb and raise a leg.
" Stand and I will be much meaner to that pretty face, love. "
A threat that instantly stills you.
" I'm not discouraging you, by all means, I miss those times where I could feel you try to breathe through your nose but you were so flush to me you couldn't... "
His words alone evoke a myriad of images, flashes of his teeth twisting into pleased grimaces and the oxygen-deprived skip of your heartbeat while spots danced around the edges of your sight. Memories that feel all too vivid now.
Crawling towards Santi is far from the most embarrassing thing you've done, so it's hardly worth antagonizing him about it.
The monster's own anticipation betrays him and he steps forward to close the last bit of distance between you, expression somewhere between manic and endlessly adoring when he whispers.
" Now, show me you're sorry. "
You know what to do to get the incubus revved up, not that he needs much assistance, seeing as he's practically bursting out his slit.
Keeping eye contact, a reverent kiss to that overheated sheath and a tongue flirting with the edge is all it takes for him to groan, holding your head to the side so you can watch his cock slide out, already throbbing from repressed arousal. Fortunately, nothing's changed on this end. He's still just as mouth-watering as you remember him from all those years ago.
Before you can wrap your lips around him, Santi grabs a soft hold of your hair.
" Tell me about the people you've bedded after me. "
You frown. " I only... Only had sex once. "
The demon tilts his head, mind seemingly shattered by that. " Once? "
After your nod, he nudges you slightly. You get the pleasure of seeing him inhale sharply at the first feel of your warmth around him, a shaky sigh following while he waits for you to worship him properly.
" You poor thing, was it truly that bad? "
There's no answer to be had aside from your slight gag when you attempt to take a little too much of him too soon. Santi pauses just to buck and make you gag again, the gross sound turning him on. He triggers the reflex until your face is flushed and there's strings of drool hitting the floor.
" Ssh sh, that's perfect, just the way I love it. " He murmurs praises when you pull away to cough hard.
" What did you do then, to make it bearable? " Santi appears to forge his own answer. " Did you spend your days fucking yourself to the thought of me? "
Instead of thinking about his words, you just focus on pleasuring the monster, bobbing on him effectively enough to disrupt his train of thought a few times. He makes a guttural sound when you audibly pop your lips and pulses madly.
" Hhn- Did you ever regret it then? In those moments where you were just so close but nothing would get you there... And you knew you banished the only one that could help. "
When you fail to pick up the pace accordingly, Santi rolls his own hips into your now stationary face, occasionally choking you deliberately, but also pausing to simply let himself rest on on your tongue. He intends to languish every moment of this.
" Because I thought of you when nothing and no one could make me cum. I thought of every sound you made and every inch of your stupidly gorgeous skin. " His tone intensifies with his speed, words chopped into tight breaths. " I hope. You crawled. The walls. "
Almost.
" I hope- You screamed. My name. "
You did.
" And I hope. " He pants. " In the end. You cried. "
You... did.
Santi's getting close, you already know all his tells, down to what muscles he twitches when he's nearing an orgasm. Part of being his match is knowing his body well, though not as well as a demon of carnality can read yours.
Instead of wanting to sink as far into your throat as he can, Santi offers mercy to your creaking jaw when he merely has you suck him hard around the most sensitive spot, curling forward slightly in his mounting pleasure.
" That means you learned something from this. So you won't have to cry anymore. "
When his jaw becomes slack, the first rush of sizzling ecstasy hits your tongue, a taste imprinted deep into your brain, like sweet liquor enabling a spiral into total debauchery. You know, somewhere in what's left of your rational mind, that ingesting his fluids will only make you more restless- But this is exactly what you wanted.
You want that hit. The high. The relief. Is it really a spiral when it feels so good?
The incubus refuses to indulge your greedy wish, pulling you off his length so he can make a mess of your already less than composed visage. You hardly have the mind to care about the flashes of warmth as he paints you all pretty, simply smiling contentedly. Santi finds it endearing enough to coo.
" There, my lovely little Minx, aren't things better already? " His claws swipe gently over your cheeks and chin, entering your mouth with another offer of poisonous sweetness you can't decline. He lets you clean him at your own sluggish pace, spare hand pumping a slick but by no means spent cock to the sight.
The rest of it is rubbed across your lips like some perverse gloss.
" I love you so much. " He swoons. " Say it back to me. "
You barely heard his request, too busy hypnotized by his eyes. Even damaged, they're still the eyes of the most captivating creature to ever exist, for your cum-drunk brain.
" I... Mm... " You swallow, every inch of your throat feels sticky. There's something dripping down your neck.
He leans down to mouth the words for guidance, but all you do is try to reach his lips for another kiss, causing the incubus to laugh and shake his head.
" Come one, darling. Three words, I want to hear them from my one and only. "
Although his tone is so sickly sweet it borders on sardonic, you're able to focus enough to at least heed the request.
" ... I love you. "
" I love you, Santi. " He corrects quietly, yet sternly.
" I- " The lustful fog only ever allows you seconds to think clearly. " I love you, Santi? " "
He makes a face that reads something among the lines of 'good enough', grinning in an all too familiar way.
" Then hold on. "
It's a while before you realize he's not telling you to wait. Santi has curved his head just enough that you have access to his horns, and though you give him a slightly puzzled look, all he does is chuff impatiently. Your panties still hang off his horn, you imagine he'd like to keep them on for as long as he can get away with it.
As soon as you have decent purchase on those thick handles, large hands swipe you up by the ass, making you clap onto his thighs. Santi bounces you a bit more until he can stand a little straighter, with you effectively anchored onto him by the horns. Instinct has you quickly crossing your legs around his midsection. He's holding you up as if you weigh less than feathers.
The demon rumbles from the depths of his chest, a feral and drooling Cheshire beam.
" First order of business, my love, is fixing the gift I so kindly offered. "
He uses one hand to smooth over the residual mark and tuts, the distaste written all over his face. Said hand helps him adjust and, in what felt like a blink, he's hilted inside you.
Both of you quiver and call out in tandem.
Your own orgasm is triggered immediately, the cry of an addict reaching delirious heights, your vision darkens for the briefest second as you can only groan senselessly and milk Santi with a grip that might have made him burst if he hadn't only moments ago. Instead, he merely huffs and rasps curses in a tongue you don't grasp.
He drags you off his length deliciously, every ridge bumping its way out, then shoves you back down with intentional force, cockhead kissing spots that have you nearly dizzy. Each disorienting thrust has you struggling to get enough air in your lungs, toes curling hard enough to tease a cramp while your arms fight to keep holding on and your legs don't know where to shift- Not that Santi allows you to squirm much.
" Lords- " He has to loll his tongue out for a second, teeth glistening and chest heaving. " I could die buried in you. Did you miss this, Minx? "
As if you had the wits to answer him right now, grinding your teeth from overstimulation. He laughs when your body freezes every now and then, unable to accompany so much mounted pleasure.
" Save your voice, and save your tears, because when I fuck you full of cum, you're going to feel every inch of that mark blaze to life again. "
And he's right, the sparks are already burning you...
After tonight, there's no going back.
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gatitties · 10 months ago
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Can I get a one punch man saitama genos and garou accidentally saving a female reader from a villains or monster attack and the reader becomes madly in love with them and like stars following them and clingy to their art etc
─Saitama, Genos & Garou x reader
─Summary: You think that the person who saved you needs all the love in the world even if it was an accident.
─Warnings: none
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─ In this world of heroes and villains you consider that you have a superpower, the superpower of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
─ Somehow you find yourself involved in battles that do not concern you, being just another civilian who is rescued, it has happened to you several times, but you usually go unnoticed and flee from danger before someone decides to use you as a hostage.
─ It didn't happen like that when Saitama saved you, although he didn't even see you, he destroyed that huge stone that was going to crush you when defeating a villain, your eyes could only look fascinated at the shine of his bald head and his bored expression.
─ You thanked him in different languages and he just gave you a thumbs up without knowing how to respond when he didn't even notice you in the first place.
─ He was certainly happy thinking that he had gotten a fan, but you went a little too far.
─ You went crazy looking for information about your now favorite hero and love, you sighed every time you saw him knock down enemies with a single blow.
─ Saitama met you more times a day than he did with Genos, and he lived with the cyborg.
─ You always tried to start a conversation with him, no matter how brief, you love the simple interaction.
─ Saitama will run away from you, seriously, he appreciates your letters and gifts but you are reaching an extreme, the man wants to lead a fairly peaceful life and you are a whirlwind of emotions.
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─ Genos got a taste of his own medicine when he prevented a pile of rubble from falling on you, he hadn't noticed that you were the only person there, he just diverted the pieces of building for a battle strategy.
─ You didn't need anything else, once he realized that there were civilians, he apologized and helped you get to the nearest hospital to check if you had any injuries.
─ You were creating imaginary scenarios with the cyborg throughout the medical checkup and immediately sought to have more interactions with him.
─ It's difficult for Genos to reject some of your offers once you manage to establish some kind of friendly relationship, although he feels that you are being a little suffocating with your affection.
─ Appreciate your enthusiasm and affection, but seriously, relax a little, his brain will short-circuit from the amount of love you show him.
─ This boy has zero experience in romantic relationships so he is a little lost when it comes to reciprocating at first.
─ You will take care of that as long as he ends up accepting you as a partner, since he is still confused by your sudden appearance in his life, especially when he has such clear life goals, he doesn't know if you could distract him from his occupations.
─ He doesn't want to make you feel bad so he won't ignore your signs of affection like Saitama, ironically he has more heart than his bald friend.
─ In general he is a good boy and he will accept your love bombing, but he also has clear goals for himself, and he lets you know if you really want to be part of his life.
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─ This idiot surely saw you and he was even the one who planned to use you as a hostage, but someone beat him to it and put a knife against your throat before he could do anything.
─ Fuck everything, the cheap villain was his priority now and he forgot about you, no one would take away a target even if it was a hostage, speaking of capricious boys…
─ Of course the whim of fighting your captor indirectly saved you, although he didn't look at you when you fell to the ground or help you after he broke the other guy's face, but your heart experienced an instant crush.
─ Garou had the feeling that someone was after him after that day, he thought that some rival was after him only to find... you with a love letter in your hands?
─ You looked at each other in an uncomfortable silence and he decided to leave without saying anything, but your spirits did not falter, you tried by all possible means to spend as much time as possible with him to establish a relationship.
─ The man simply got used to having you by his side, ranting about anything or receiving compliments for any little thing he did.
─ He was so embarrassed, not only because the sight of him as a villain would be destroyed, but because he was not used to receiving so much praise and affection.
─ You may have a rather negative reaction towards your love, he doesn't feel confident enough to start something and you also came out of nowhere, but now that he knows you a little more he won't kick you out of his life either, at least for now…
─ Don't expect any signs of affection from him, he's a tough guy and has to look tough.
─ He constantly reminds you that he's not a good person and what his goals are right now, but he gives up when he sees that the look in your eyes clouded by love, won't scare you away so easily, although he might like that.
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