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#ive decided to listen to this from the beginning...
caruliaa · 2 years
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got a sudden urge to listen to the twisted soundtrack and now i am. i should rewatch it
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pathologicalreid · 4 months
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heyyy!!! I just wanted to say I really love your work and this is my first time sending a request so sorry if it’s not very specific 😭💕
If you’re still doing requests, I was wondering if you could do a fem reader x Spencer Reid where it’s similar to your cryptic pregnancy one, except Spencer is at home with her when she’s in labour without realising, and she’s just in a lot of pain and it all of a sudden gets worse and she’s just in the bathroom shouting for Spencer, he comes in and eventually works out what’s going on, readers sort of in denial? Maybe the ambulance doesn’t get there in time so Spencer has to help her give birth? Lots of fluff and hurt/comfort :)
Also completely fine if your not comfortable doing it, but again really love your work and hope you have a great day 💕 :)
three's a family | S.R.
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: cryptic pregnancy, traumatic birth, precipitous labor, hospitals, medical inaccuracy (its just me and google against the world), takes place after 9x7 "gatekeeper", surgery, near death experiences, periods, home birth word count: 3.16k a/n: anon i'll be so honest with u i wasn't sure if i was gonna write this but then i learned what precipitous labor was and i was like "i would not wish this on my worst enemy... i'm going to force it on y/n" BUT please keep in mind that there is a .000012 probability of this happening to you (i did the math) this is the wildest thing ive written to date i think
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“I’m going to try a bath,” you murmured over to Spencer, wincing as you dragged yourself out of bed, walking at a turtle’s pace to the bathroom, hoping the warm water would soothe the cramps away.
Your period came and went as it pleased; it was just your luck that it decided to give you debilitating cramps on your one day off. Padding on the tile floor behind you, Spencer leaned against the doorframe to the bathroom, “I could run to the store and get a new heating pad.”
Sticking your hand under the tap to check the temperature, you plugged the drain once you found it to be satisfactory. You shook your head, “No, it’s fine.” Your original heating pad must’ve gotten lost somewhere in the depths of your storage closet, but you didn’t have the patience to look for it. You could manage just fine without it.
“Will you let me know if you need anything?” He asked, leaning forward to press a comforting kiss to your forehead.
Nodding, you hooked your thumbs in the waistband of your pajama pants and pulled them down, watching as Spencer pointedly flicked the bathroom fan on – something you often forgot to do.
You lasted about thirty minutes in the bath, not only was the water beginning to grow lukewarm, but if anything, your cramps were getting worse while submerged in the water. Grunting, you reached over and tugged the plug from the drain, watching as the water drained, you managed to pull yourself to a squat before you felt stuck.
Aunt Flo really had it out for you this month.
Burying your face in your hands you accepted defeat and called out for Spencer, reaching up and trying to stand again, but only succeeding in knocking over several shampoo bottles. “Spence!” You tried again, white-knuckling the edge of the bathtub as you bowed your head. A creeping feeling that this wasn’t your period was beginning to rise.
You listened as your husband made his way up the stairs, turning the corner into your room, and opening the door to the ensuite. Moving quickly, Spencer dropped to a crouch in front of you, cupping your pained face in his hands, “I don’t think this is your period, angel.”
Clamping your lips together to prevent yourself from crying out, you simply nodded in response. How awful was it that you were going to die, naked, in your bathtub?
Spencer wiped tears away from under your eyes – you hadn’t even realized you started crying. “What does it feel like, darling? What else could it be?” He asked, voice urgent but gentle as he tried to stop you from panicking.
As you shook your head, you couldn’t focus on anything else besides your breathing as another pain rose up through you. “It’s like a cramp, but with more pressure,” you said, depending on the bathtub and Spencer to keep you upright as your legs shook beneath you. “Like something’s pushing on me, kind of like I have to shit.”
Reaching behind him, Spencer dug through one of the drawers in the bathroom vanity before retrieving the handheld mirror that you used when you cut his hair. Before you could ask what he was doing, he placed the mirror at the bottom of the tub, just beneath you. “I think you’re in labor,” he announced, breaking the news to you.
“There’s no– fuck,” your voice broke off as you dropped your head onto Spencer’s shoulder, breathing through what was apparently a contraction. “I’m not pregnant,” you insisted as your symptoms started to make sense. You had been in labor all morning.
Nodding to himself, Spencer quickly kissed your cheek before standing up and making sure you were stable before stepping to the side.
You frowned as you looked up at him, “Where are you going?”
He didn’t go far, opening the linen closet and piling towels into his arms, “I’m getting towels to put in the tub beneath you, and then I’m going to call an ambulance.”
“You want me to give birth in our bathtub?” You asked, furrowing your brows quizzically before letting out a low whine as another contraction hit.
Stopping what he was doing, Spencer dropped down to you, running the flat of his palm up and down your back as he gently reminded you to breathe. “Did you want to change positions?”
Immediately, you shook your head. You already had an insurmountable task ahead of you and you saw no reason to add to that task by trying to move. “This is fine. Squatting is good, right?”
Nodding assuredly, Spencer smoothed your hair away from your face, “Gravity can help the baby descend the birth canal, and some people even say that the position can increase the pelvic diameter.”
While you were currently less concerned with the diameter of your pelvis and more concerned with feeling like your body was being split open, you continued going through the motions as he called for an ambulance, trying to explain the situation to the dispatcher.
“Have you been timing your contractions?” Spencer asked, tilting his head at you curiously as the dispatcher spoke on the phone.
Releasing a groan, you gripped the ledge of the tub, “I didn’t know they were contractions!”
Relaying that information over the phone, Spencer dropped to his knees in front of you, “Okay, I’ll do it. I’ll take care of it.” He continued to reassure you, taking one look at your desperate expression before ending the call with the dispatcher.
He understood that you were vulnerable right now, and you didn’t want that broadcasted to a stranger on the phone. If you weren’t so preoccupied with remembering to breathe, you’d be more grateful. After a contraction ebbed away, Spencer stood up.
“I have to go unlock the door for the paramedics,” he told you, keeping a wary eye on you. “I’ll be right back,” he comforted you as he took one last look at you before tearing out of the bathroom.
In record speed, he returned to the bathroom as promised, “It’s bad,” you cried, the pressure on your pelvis becoming insufferable.
Crouching in front of you, Spencer studied your face before he spoke carefully, “I have to check your cervix.”
Despite his carefully chosen words, your lips still parted in shock, “You have to what?”
“I’ll use my hand to measure how dilated you are, and then… we’ll go from there,” he told you, nodding almost imperceptibly. At this point, you weren’t sure who he was trying to reassure – you or him. “Do you trust me?”
“Yes,” you answered instantly, “indefinitely.”
You bit down on your lip as you let Spencer check you, understanding entirely why people choose to get epidurals – this was horribly uncomfortable. “On the next contraction, you need to push, okay?”
For just a moment, your breathing faltered as your scared eyes met his, “Spence, wait,” you pleaded.
Smoothing your hair back, your husband did everything he could to comfort you, “What is it, love?” He asked, his voice soft.
“I’m scared,” you confessed, voice cracking ever so slightly as tears flooded your lash line.
He leaned forward to gently kiss your lips before pulling away to press his forehead to yours, "I've got you. You're going to be fine. You're both going to be fine."
You could see his carotid pounding, and somehow the fact that he was secretly as scared as you was more comforting than the words that came from his mouth. As you pushed, you focused on everything that Spencer was saying instead of the pain. Don’t push for more than eight seconds. Remember to breathe. Your body will know what to do. I love you. I love you. I love you.
By the time Spencer was saying something about the head, your hearing had gone muffled. “You’re doing so well, baby,” you made out his voice and nodded dazedly. “You’re wonderful. I’m so proud of you – just a little more,” he cajoled.
Taking a moment to breathe, your ears and eyes focused as shaky breaths filled your lungs.
“I’m sorry I can’t be more helpful,” he murmured, dropping a kiss on your bare shoulder as he comforted you, continuing to keep you upright.
You shook your head, sniffling as your eyes screwed shut, “You’re perfect. Don’t stop. Keep talking,” you begged, needing something to focus on other than the pain.
“There’s about a point zero four percent chance of you getting pregnant and not finding out until you’re in labor,” he told you, hoping that the information would help you wrap your head around what was happening to you. “One to three in one hundred people have a precipitous labor,” he continued to speak as you pushed, and you wondered what the odds of you squeezing his hand so hard that you did damage were.
Against your better judgment, you looked down to check your progress, “Holy fuck,” you said breathlessly. You weren’t entirely clueless, you knew that once you got past the shoulders the remaining pushes would be easier. You also found yourself grateful that Spencer knew what he was doing – this was, after all, the second baby he had delivered.
You bore down, determined to get the baby out while Spencer untangled your hands, bringing his own down to catch the baby. Out of breath, you panted heavily as you started to feel lightheaded. “Done,” Spencer said quickly, “it’s done. I have him.”
Carefully, Spencer held the baby along the length of his forearm, rubbing the tiny newborn’s back. “Come on, come on, come on,” he muttered under his breath, and it dawned on you that the baby wasn’t crying.
At the realization, your legs finally gave out from beneath you, watching with wide eyes as Spencer tried to clear your son’s lungs. White hot tears streamed down your face as you whispered, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You took a gasping breath as you silently pleaded for a cry, “I didn’t know,” you sobbed, guilt building a pit in your stomach.
With bleary eyes, you looked on as the baby finally spluttered and let out a wail. “There you go,” Spencer cooed softly, his own voice stiff with emotion as he cradled the baby and handed him off to you.
You were still sobbing as you held the baby to your chest, “I’m so sorry,” you continued to babble, watching as Spencer briefly disappeared into the bedroom before returning with a blanket and wrapping it around the both of you. While holding the baby, your vision started to blur around the edges.
Watching you intently, Spencer cupped your face in his hands, “I love you.”
Nodding, your face crumpled before you responded, “I love you too.”
When the paramedics announced themselves, Spencer called out for them, not wanting to leave your side. The two of you focused your attention on the wriggling baby in your arms.
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He was premature – too little to stay with you in the recovery room. The NICU doctor had estimated that he was born at approximately 32 weeks, meaning he’d likely need to spend a few weeks in intensive care. “I want to see him,” you said insistently, looking over as Spencer as he fussed over you.
“You just had abdominal surgery,” Spencer responded simply, as if that was meant to clarify everything for you. He continued fluffing your pillow, which wasn’t entirely productive considering you were lying on the pillow.
As it turned out, you had experienced what was called a precipitous birth, or a rapid birth. It tended to be dangerous, and the fact that you did it in your bathtub only heightened that danger. You reached your arm out for Spencer, “c’mere,” you muttered, trying to get him to stop fretting. “Did you listen to anything that the doctor just said?”
Spencer nodded in understanding, “Lots of rest, no physical exertion, IV medication for now-“
“Did you hear the part where he said I was going to be okay?” You asked, raising your eyebrows at him curiously, you watched as he took your hand in his and sat on the edge of your bed. “I’m going to be fine,” your voice was determined, you had a few small incisions on your abdomen from the surgery to repair a tear in your uterus. “Thank you for looking after me,” you whispered.
Your husband gently smoothed your hair back from your face, “I should’ve noticed it sooner.”
Using all of your strength, you squeezed his hand comfortingly, “You were incredible,” you assured him. “If it weren’t for you, neither of us would’ve made it.”
He shook his head, “Don’t say that.”
Raising your eyebrows, you cocked your head to the side, “It’s true. I couldn’t have done it on my own, I’m so, so thankful for you, my love.” 
You had passed out in the ambulance as a direct result of blood loss, so you were brought to a trauma bay as soon as you made it to the hospital. Once they were in the ER, the baby was taken to the NICU, leaving Spencer with a lot of decisions to make.
When you woke up in the recovery room, the first thing you did was ask about the baby.
Spencer, of course, had been up to see him. The nurses claimed he seemed like a fighter, and Spencer knew the survival odds of a 32-weeker, so he turned his attention to you. Every other option had already failed, so the next option was a laparoscopy. Your husband admitted that while it seemed extreme, the very last choice was a hysterectomy, and he didn’t want to make that decision.
Furrowing your brows, “When can I see the baby?” You asked, not entirely sure how to refer to the infant just yet. It wasn’t until then that you realized you needed to name him at some point – your son.
“Once your blood pressure goes up,” Spencer told you with an authoritative tone. “You lost a lot of blood in the ambulance, but the blood transfusions will bring your blood pressure back up.”
Tilting your head to the side, you glared at your husband, “And is this rule from a doctor with a medical degree or a doctor whose name is on my marriage certificate?”
In response, Spencer shrugged, sitting in the beige armchair at the side of your bed, “That’s a secret I’ll never tell.”
You rolled your eyes dismissively, “Will you go see him?”
He leaned over the edge of your bed, taking your hand in his. “I can, will you be alright on your own?”
Nodding almost imperceptibly, you squeezed his hand affectionately, “I just don’t want him to be alone.” You whispered as tears pricked your eyes, you took your free hand and waved at your face, “god, what’s wrong with me?”
“A sudden drop of estrogen and progesterone immediately following birth causes mood swings. Nothing is wrong with you, your body is acting naturally,” Spencer explained patiently, dropping a gentle kiss on your lips.
You sighed before melting back into your pillows, “At least something about this feels natural,” you responded. Your brain felt like a spinning top, while your body felt like you were being weighed down by an elephant in a commercial for COPD medication.
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The fact that the NICU nurse informed you that your son had a ninety-five percent chance of living a completely normal life did nothing to calm your nerves. He’d have to stay in the NICU for a few weeks and you tried to convince yourself that the extra time to prepare for him to come home would be good for you, but the idea of leaving him alone at the hospital – save for a small army of doctors and nurses – put a pit of dread in your chest.
Spencer had the forethought to warn you about the tubes and wires that he was hooked up to, ranging from oxygen to a feeding tube. “He’s been undergoing red light therapy to be treated for jaundice, but you can hold him for a while if you want to,” the nurse told you, leading the both of you through the NICU as Spencer steered your wheelchair through the hospital.
Your breathing hitched when you finally saw him, this tiny stowaway that had been growing inside of you for the last several months, and he was just so little. While you were still in your own room, you had convinced yourself that you’d hold him, but now you weren’t so convinced.
According to the sign in his room, he weighed three pounds and ten ounces and was sixteen inches long. He was sound asleep in an incubator, a small hat on top of his head, “Spence,” you breathed.
Behind you, your husband placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, “I know.”
“Did you want to hold him?” The nurse asked you gently, looking over at one of the machines that he was hooked up to.
Genuinely, you didn’t know. “Is… is that okay?” You asked, wiping your sweaty palms on the blanket draped across your legs.
The nurse gave you a knowing look, “Even better than okay, it’ll be good for him to have that kind of contact from both of his parents.”
Frowning, you watched as it took two nurses to break him out of his acrylic prison before they carefully placed him on your chest, making sure you were okay before they stepped back. Your movements were stiff at first, you had never held a baby this small before, but you eventually remembered to breathe and gently cooed at the baby in your arms.
Spencer crouched down next to you and started to ask the nurse a bunch of questions that he had likely been holding in for hours, but you just kept your eyes on the sleeping baby. He was too small to open his eyes, but everyone assured you that he’d get there.
The nurse stepped out to give you some privacy, leaving the door open just in case you needed something, “This doesn’t seem quite as difficult while I’m holding him.” You knew there was a steep learning curve ahead, but with a newborn on your chest, the pit in your heart dissipated.
“That’s called oxytocin,” Spencer said, sitting in a chair, eyes fixated on the infant in your arms.
Humming, you skimmed the pad of your thumb across your son’s tiny back, “He looks like you,” you observed quietly, they had the same nose.
Your husband smiled softly, “You can’t possibly tell which parent he takes after yet,” he informed you.
“And yet, I know he looks like you,” you insisted softly, and Spencer didn’t push back. “You look like your daddy,” you whispered to the baby, “he was the first one to hold you, you know?” You looked over at Spencer, “he’s been my superhero for four years, and now he gets to be yours too.”
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kasagia · 5 months
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Right hand III
Pairing: Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!exBeneGesserit! reader Summary: After Feyd learns the truth about your dark past, you do everything in your power to prove your loyalty to him. He has many ideas for this... but will your life be able to go back to normal after that? You will either die at his hands, be exiled, return to the Bene Gesseit, or live by his side. And you yourself don't even know which of these options is worse... Warning: 18+; violence; blood; Feyd Rautha; death; fight; brutality; smut; Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ PART II ~•♤♤♤•~ PART IV ~•♤♤♤•~
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His dagger digs lightly into your neck, blood slowly trickling down it. You don't try to fight him, you don't push the blade away or try to rip it out of his hand. You know that if you did, you would have been killed by him long ago.
You had to play it smart… and fast—before he slit your throat, which was becoming a more likely scenario with every second.
"Feyd…" You choke out once more, trying to make him look you in the eyes and get him to listen to you. The blood is seeping out of you faster and faster as he presses the blade harder against your throat.
"Silience, witch! You little plague, bane of my existence, poisonous viper, how long have you been playing with me? How long have you been faking all this? Did you think you could outsmart me? That you can deceive me? Make fun of me? Humiliate me? I should fuck you raw, use you like a whore, and leave you in your ridiculous sisterhood to rot with those old hags!" He shouts, pressing his blade harder against your throat. The cool steel of the metal on your skin is becoming a more serious threat to your life. You shiver as you feel him taking more blood from you.
"Feyd, listen…" You try to speak again, placing your hand on his wrist. He pushes your hand away as if it posed a radioactive threat greater than anything floating in Giedi Prime's atmosphere and glares at you furiously.
"NO! You lied to me. You betrayed me. You know how I punish people for disloyalty. You're lucky that I won't throw you to my soldiers so they can play with you before I give you to my harpies. But don't worry, I will take very good care of you. You'll die like those cowardly rats you helped me kill a few hours ago…"
"You... you would... kill me... if I told you... at the beginning..." You gasp as he grabs your neck tightly and drags his blade down your body, creating a trail of blood leading to your collarbone.
"I will kill you now." He growls hoarsely, completely cutting off the air from your respiratory tract.
Your eyes widen as he lifts you off the ground so that only your toes touch the floor. Tears well up in your eyes as you desperately try to draw in air, but his hand is wrapped too tightly around your neck for the oxygen to reach your lungs.
When you realised that it was over and that he had decided on your death, the moment that Lady Jessica told him the whole truth about you, you relaxed. You let a blissful emptiness wash over you as you slowly waited for him to take your life away. You close your eyes, rest your head against the wall behind you, and let your body slowly go limp as the seconds pass without air.
You gasp, surprised, as the grip on your neck loosens so that you can take small, ragged breaths. You quickly take advantage of the opportunity and take a few shaky breaths. You open your eyes, staring into Feyd's icy blue and furious gaze in utter shock.
Was he going to play with you before he killed you? Torture, like many before you, until he finds in himself some mercy and takes your life? Because if you know one thing, it's that you won't beg him to let you go. About nothing. Never. You were too proud to do so.
"Fight." He growls, pressing you harder against the wall. He leans forward, bringing his face very close to yours. You shiver, feeling his breath on your cheek as he carefully observes your reaction to his intimidation. Like a snake waiting for the right moment to attack.
"What?" You ask stupidly, not understanding what he is doing. You've often watched him play with his victims, prolonging their suffering and giving them no hope of escaping his grip... so why does he want you to fight? Why does he want you to resist him? Was this another sick game of his?
"Fight! Scream! Struggle! Why are you not doing anything?! Why don't you beg for your miserable life, Bene Gesserit's spy?! Fight with me! Fight back! FIGHT BACK!!" He screams and throws you against the wall.
Completely unprepared for him to completely release you from his grip, you fall to the floor, too weak to keep your balance on your own. You place your hands on the black metal sheet beneath you and breathe quickly, trying to get as much air as possible before he wraps his hand around your throat again.
"I… I was always… loyal… to you…" You gasp, still trying to recover from what just happened. He walks slowly towards you. He presses the tip of his sword under your chin and forces you to lift your head and look him in the eyes.
“You have five minutes before I treat you like I treat your mentor. Use this time well. I can always get bored and kill you faster.” He takes a step back and slowly slides the blade across your skin. He steps away from you to pour himself a drink, but he keeps watching you out of the corner of his eye. You take one brief glance at Lady Jessica's body before you can compose yourself enough to formulate any logical response.
"I... I have no idea what she told you. Where she lied and where it was convenient for her to tell the truth... but whatever she told you I did... she surely doesn't know the one, most important thing. She doesn't know the reason for my actions."
"Oh, but I do. You wanted to run away from them so you wouldn't have to breed with such a monster as me. You thought that as my right hand, you would be safe, that I wouldn't notice you in the shadows, that I wouldn't want you, and that I wouldn't touch you. But I did. And by doing so, I destroyed your plans. Tell me, how many times have you escaped from Giedi Prime in your fantasies? How many times have you wanted to leave for good?"
With each question he asks, he takes a step towards you, which makes him stand in front of you again. But you didn't get up from the floor. You didn't feel like it. Besides, you doubted he would let you stand up and be on an equal level with him. He needed to feel in control, to feel that he is still dominating over you—that he didn't lose control over you despite your... betrayal. Although you didn't think it was any kind of betrayal at all. A slight omission of a few facts. Nothing more.
"I... you can't blame me for that. Anyone with survival instincts would not willingly live on Giedi Prime. But I stayed." You decide to tell him some of the truth this time. For too long, you managed to play your cards well. You had to bend a little to his will without losing your claw and not behaving like an obedient concubine, wanting to fulfil all his orders and wishes, because that would make him more suspicious, and he would definitely kill you for trying to deceive him and lie to him again.
"You stayed out of fear." He questions your words, keeping his watchful, piercing gaze on you as he tries to find in you any trace of lying.
You almost shiver under the furious gaze of his icy blue eyes. Fortunately, you manage to refrain from showing him any reaction. The metallic scent of Lady Jessica's blood motivated you to survive like nothing had before. You somehow manage to recall some of your lessons and training sessions with her as you think about how to respond to Feyd's words. Maybe her methods and rules didn't keep her alive, but unlike her, you knew Feyda-Rautha too damn well. You could get out of this. You just had to play it smart and sacrifice a few things…
"Out of loyalty to you. Sense of duty and honor. Something I thought we both shared." You say confidently, meeting his gaze bravely.
However, your attitude does not impress him at all. He lazily turns the dagger in his hands, playing with the sharp blade. He doesn't take his eyes off you, even for a moment. He just stands there, maintaining a completely calm and unruffled demeanor. It's hard to imagine now that just a moment ago, this man was overcome with the greatest anger of his entire life. You've seen him in many states, but you have never seen him that mad. Rabban may have been called a beast by others, but the real threat was his younger brother. Especially when his first anger was over and it was time for the cold calculation of revenge.
“Was that loyalty and sense of duty also present in you when you chose to ignore the fact that you were supposed to be mine? That you are destined to give me an heir so strong that the whole world will kneel before him?” This time, you can't help but shudder. He notices this and chuckles darkly, shaking his head. In a split second, the tip of his blade is once again pressed on the thin and delicate skin of your throat. You swallow, and when you meet his gaze, you realise that you have to tell the truth if you don't want to die on your knees in front of him.
"If your uncle told you to marry me and have your offspring with me, would you do it?" A frown appears on his forehead at the mere mention of the baron. His hand trembles slightly as a new wave of rage washes over him.
"What does he have to do with this?" He asks hoarsely, as he suspects you of working with his uncle. After all, you were smart enough to play both sides.
Feyd wouldn't be surprised if you reported everything he was doing to his uncle behind his back. That's why he preferred having you—a cunning, beautiful witch who was now kneeling before him—by his side. Because you were drop-dead perfect. He never expected you to make such a stupid mistake. To ever let him gain even the slightest doubt about your loyalty.
"Nothing. But the Bene Gesserit were to me what your uncle is to you. And after running away from them, the last thing I wanted to do was follow the last sick order they gave me." The years you spent with him gave you enough information about the family relationship at House Harkonnen.
They are like predators waiting for the right moment to attack, always prepared to hurt the other one when he shows even a tiny glimmer of weakness. You also know Feyd's past... or rather, the history of scars on his back. Unfortunately, these were not the only marks the baron left on him.
You hold your breath as he grabs your hair and pulls you up. You get up on your feet, and, being on an equal level with him, you no longer hesitate to look him in the eye. He releases your hair with the other, only to move it to your cheek and neck. He rubs tiny droplets of blood across yours, shifting his attention to your skin. He caresses your jawline with his finger and suddenly tilts your head back, giving himself a better view of your reddened throat, which has begun to form bruises in the shape of his fingers from how he choked you just moments ago. You swallow, watching him closely.
"And yet you served me for many years. You stayed with me after they wanted to link your future with mine. Why?"
“I was hoping the last place they would look for me would be Giedi Prime by your side. And that… after all, you won't be interested in me.”
"But I was. This must have spoiled your plans, right?"
"A little." You confess, hoping to gain something from your honesty.
After your words, there is a long silence in the room. He removes his hand from you, staring intently at you as he considers your words. You wait in suspense and anticipation for his next decision.
One quick move was enough to take your life.
And from the look in his eyes, you know it must have been tempting for him to add your blood to Lady Jessica's, which was already staining the floor of the ship.
"On your knees." His command is so sudden that it takes you a moment for your brain to process what he said.
All you can do is stare at him blankly, your heart beating with excitement and terror at the thought of his words. He didn't want to… he couldn't now… You look down at his pants and swallow, seeing the slight bulge. You hold your breath as he takes a step towards you and presses his hard length against your thigh, which undoubtedly confirms your suspicions. He lifts your chin with two fingers, forcing you to look into his eyes as you blush and realise what he is asking you to do.
"I love your doe eyes, my pet, but there's a time and a place for everything. On your knees or your heart will become another decoration of my chambers." He says it huskily, caressing your chin before letting go. He stares at you expectantly, waiting for your next move.
You swallow again, feeling a huge lump in your throat. Your mind is racing, but you know, as he does, that you have no escape. Your position is hopeless; you can either give him a blowjob or die, and you don't want to do any of it. Or touch him in any way after he disembowelled Lady Jessica in front of you. But the prospect of being his next victim reluctantly brings you to your knees before him.
"Good girl." He hums, tilting your chin slightly so you're looking at him and not the floor between you. He takes a step towards you and attaches the dagger to his arm. "Show me that your beautiful, deceptive, tempting lips, throat, and larynx can do more than feed me with sweet lies, and maybe I won't cut them out of you."
You hold your breath, your eyes trailing down to his pants. You hear him chuckle darkly before he takes your hands in his and places them on the fastenings of his pants, guiding your hands as you gradually free his length from his armour.
You swallow again at the sight of his full, hard length and curse him, as the rumours about him do not lie at all. He was enormous. Long and not too thick, but not thin either. You don't know if you'd rather he tried to cut your throat with a knife than pierce it with what stood proud between you.
"Rumours say you know how to do it. I don't remember how many soldiers I killed for the privilege of having your body before me. But each of them shared one opinion. Your fire burns as bright in battle as it does in the bedroom. Show me, my little witch, how much you care about continuing to be my right hand and having all the privileges you had." He encourages you mockingly when you stare at his slightly pre-cum-dripping cock for too long for his liking. But damn, his cum was black. You were sure as hell that the bastard was going to paint you with it.
You give him an angry, cold glare as you wrap your hand around his length. He lets out a soft moan, grabbing your jaw to make sure you keep your eyes on his. You swallow, stroking his length with slow movements of your hand as he gets even harder. Part of you is glad that he wants you to look at him. You doubt you could keep your composure if you had to look at what you had to fit in your mouth… and hopefully only in your mouth.
He growls when you drag out the inevitable too long, using only your hands on him. You can see that he likes what you're doing, but the impatience radiating from him makes you realise that it won't end with just a few caresses of your hands around his length.
Reluctantly, you lean down and wrap your lips around his tip, sucking him gently—like candy. You taste his pre-cum on your tongue, surprisingly taking in its… not-so-horrible taste. It's bittersweet on your tongue and thick. You shudder at the thought of what he would feel like inside you.
He groans, burring his hands in your hair as he gently pushes you on him to make you take more of his cock into your mouth. You choke as his length suddenly hits the back of your throat. Surprisingly, he stops pushing you and just keeps his hands in your hair, letting you adjust to his full length.
"I've always liked your hair..." He starts tugging on them to correct your rhythm. "A natural leash for my beautiful, dangerous pet..."
You growl around him in anger at his words. He groans throatily, feeling his cock twitch in your mouth at the extra stimulation he got from you. You feel tears slowly begin to well up in your eyes as he allows himself to move his hips more and more, lazily thrusting into your throat. Your saliva mixes with his pre-cum, staining the corners of your mouth.
It amazes you how gentle he is with you. How he doesn't push you too far so as not to cause you the pain you know he loves to enjoy. More than once, you had to call the medic to his concubines. Even his harpies occasionally got injured when he used them for his pleasure after a particularly exciting fight. You knew how… he could get lost in his pleasure. Yet he was extremely careful with you.
He starts thrusting into your throat faster and faster, guiding your head by your hair in time with his thrusts. You let your tears fall as he picked up a pace you couldn't keep up with. You close your eyes and feel a tear roll down your cheek. You open them, meeting his gaze, when you feel his thumb brush away your falling tear. He licked it off his finger, purring at its salty flavour.
You wrap your hands around his balls, massaging them in a circular motion, trying to make him come as quickly as possible. He laughs throatily, pounding stupidly into your mouth. Your jaw starts to hurt. You prop yourself up on his thigh with one hand, unable to stay on your knees for long on your own.
Seeing that you're having difficulty, he slows down a little, lazily digging into your throat. He luxuriated in the warmth of your mouth, and your tongue caressed his length. His gaze never falters, as he maintains eye contact with you the entire time. He strokes your cheek with his hand, then moves to your throat as he gently uses his fingertips to feel the bulge in your throat caused by his cock.
"I'll take you. Fast and hard. You'll cry as beautifully as you do now and writhe beneath me desperately, trying to escape like always, but you'll be so impaled on my cock and wrapped in the tight embrace of my arms that you won't move a fucking millimetre without my permission. I will fuck into you our Kwisatz Haderach, so no one will ever doubt that it should have been otherwise, that you don't belong with me. And the best of all is that you will not know the damn day or hour when it will happen. You will learn how to be my whore and baroness, just like you learned how to be my right hand. You'll do great, my little witch. You prove very well with your mouth and hands what a wonderful right hand you are. Much better than my own fucking hand. Much better than any of the fantasies I had. My little witch, always attending to my every need. Only fucking mine."
He moans, speeding up drastically, chasing his peak. You feel him getting closer to his orgasm as he becomes impossibly harder in your mouth and his balls tighten, ready to release his black cum. He keeps making you look at him until he growls loudly, coming into your mouth.
Earlier, you were gagging with just his length in your mouth. Now you really choke as his seed spills down your throat. He presses you against him, your nose brushing against his pubic bone, making you swallow all of his cum until it's completely inside you. Its taste is pungent, reminding you of a spicy, bitter spice.
He stays in your mouth for a while after he finishes pouring into you. He massages your scalp with his hands, clearly not wanting to release you. His cock twitches slightly, and you fear he's about to give you a second round.
He sighs, reluctantly pulling out of your mouth. He grabs your hands and guides them to his pants. You cleaned him and put him back in his pants without saying a word. You are not even looking into his eyes, knowing full well that a satisfied smile will spread across his lips the moment you do.
He grabs your arms and lifts you off your knees. You shiver, unable to stay on your two feet after being on your knees for so long, and you fall into his arms, leaning completely against him. He laughs huskily, pulling you closer to his chest. He uses his fingertip to collect the last of your saliva and his cum from the corners of your mouth and pushes his fingers into your mouth. You suck on them, meeting his eyes with your defiant, angry gaze.
He hums, smiling darkly as he watches with satisfaction as you lick his fingers. He leans forward, his nose brushing your cheek as he licks from your face and then from your neck the droplets of his black cum that leaked from your mouth as you tried to swallow everything he poured into you. You shiver as his tongue caresses the skin of your neck, tracing the small, sealed wound he inflicted on you with his dagger. He hums against your neck, disappointed at how quickly your blood clots.
Suddenly, he lets you completely go. You can barely keep your balance as he walks away from you.
"If that Atreides' bitch survived, so did her pathetic puppy. Send a message to our people in the desert. Paul Atredis is alive. We have to kill him before he and the rebels start a revolt and destroy our plans. Clean up here too. Tomorrow we have half a tribe of these rats to interrogate."
You nod dumbly, trying to understand what the hell just happened. Just a few hours ago, you were afraid for your life, and now that you... have pleased him, he acts like nothing has happened. You come to the conclusion that it bothered you more than when he pressed his blade against your throat.
"Ah, and Y/N." He says, stopping at the door and turning to look at you one last time before leaving the room. You can tell by the mischievous smile on his lips that he has nothing good planned for you. "I want to see you in my chambers tonight."
He doesn't wait for your reaction or response. He just walks out with a springy, energetic step, closing the door behind him with a bang.
You shiver as you find yourself alone in the room with Lady Jessica's corpse. You look around, and, in a desperate attempt to find some positives, you decide that at least your blood isn't staining the floor of the ship... or at least not yet.
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His chambers in the main base on Arrakis are not as... ornately terrifying as those he had in Giedi Prime. You wouldn't guess that someone important lived there. It was an ordinary room with a bed, a chest of drawers, and a bathroom. No amenities, just a commander's room; definitely too poor for a na-baron.
You shiver as you feel his hand on your hip. He pulls you to his chest, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his nose in your hair. He sighs, inhaling your scent. The warm air on your neck is tickling you gently. You think about how it's been too easy for him to sneak up on you lately. You've gone out of shape.
"Are you planning how to escape, little witch?" He whispers hoarsely, playing with the fabric of your nightgown.
"I didn't. And believe me, I had better opportunities in the past. So why would I escape now?" You answer his question with your own one, irritated by his suspicions.
"Because unlike me, you are very reluctant to welcome our Kwisatz Haderach into this world." You roll your eyes at his words and turn your head to give him an annoyed look. He shrugs with a smirk. He presses a kiss on the bare skin of your shoulder before resting his chin on it. "You're obviously trying to distance yourself from me, too." He adds, seeing the irritated frown on your forehead.
“Weren't you the one who thought the Bene Gesserit prophecies were just bullshit from stoned old women?” You ask, raising your eyebrows in challenge.
"I did… but this particular one seems very convincing..." He purrs into your neck. He moves one hand from your hip so his finger can trace the red line of the wound he gave you with the dagger. He tilted your head back, forcing you to rest your head on his shoulder as he placed a trail of kisses on the small scar.
"Where are your harpies?" You ask when he starts showing too much interest in your neck, peppering it with kisses.
"Should I call them? Would you like them to join us?" You wrinkle your nose, at which he laughs, amused, tightening his hold on you.
"Of course not. You know that I have... no sympathy for them." You grumble, trying to break free from his grip, which, of course, he won't let you.
"The feeling is mutual. You know, they think you're stealing me from them. And that I will quickly get bored with you, like with other... oriental pets I had, and I will come back to them."
"What are you waiting for, then?" You ask, raising an eyebrow at him. He chuckles darkly, shaking his head. His hand plays with the strap of your black sleep gown, gently stroking your bare skin. He leans down, nuzzling your temple, and whispers in your ear:
“The problem is, my dear little witch, that you have taken over every ounce of my thoughts. My dreams, my nights, my days… it seems only right that I get back the time I wasted dreaming about you, right?”
You shiver, both from his words and from the way his hand slides over your body like a snake. He strokes your breasts, taking a moment to focus on them before his hand rests on your hips again. He presses you against him, clinging to you like a second skin.
"Let's go to bed. It was a very long day. For both of us..." He says, directing you towards his bed. You resist him slightly by digging your heels into the floor, but he quickly counters this by lifting you up gently, leaving your feet dangling in the air.
"Wouldn't you rather sleep alone? It's pretty warm here." You try to get out of it one last time, feeling the soft silk of his black sheets beneath you as he gently places you on his bed. He laughs mockingly, amused by your poor attempt at escape.
"Not at night. You know that well. I'd rather keep an eye on you, little witch. We don't know what monsters may be lurking in the darkness of Arrakis after we killed the Reverend Mother of those rats." He purrs, laying down next to you. You sigh as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer to him, knowing full well that your safety is the last thing he's worried about right now.
"If Paul Atreides survived, it is very likely that he could be Muad'Dib. He will come here. To avenge his mother and unborn sister." You warned him. You're trying to make this situation more… normal. Lying in his bed and in his arms wasn't the least bit normal for you, but making plans with him was. You needed to keep your mind occupied until you could fall asleep… if he let you fall asleep.
"You didn't stop me from killing her. You didn't say a word. Why? Were you afraid you'd be next?"
You shake your head. You're not going to tell him the whole truth about what you felt back then, but you know you can't lie to him. You have to tell him at least half the truth if you want to regain some of his trust... at least until you escape.
"Lady Jessica believed that Paul was the real Kwisatz Haderach, since she gave Duke Leto a son instead of a daughter. The Bene Gesserit resented her for this. She was supposed to give him a daughter. A daughter who was to marry you and give you a real Kwisatz Haderach. By disobeying their orders, she fell into their disfavour... until she gave them the idea that they might as well... fuse me with you to secure your bloodline. But the Bene Gesserit came up with the idea that I was going to be the mother of the Kwisatz Haderach. If I hadn't gone with you that night... I might as well have died at her hands. I… I guess I was glad that I survived her."
Not looking at his face helps you partially open up to him. You didn't like remembering your past. This was the one thing you had in common. You try your best to reveal as little to him as you have to, unconsciously tracing patterns in his hand as he keeps hugging you from behind. If you turned around, you would have seen his small smile at your gesture quickly disappear as he sensed the growing tension within you at the thought of Lady Jessica.
"If I had known, I would have made it more painful for her." He states, taking your hand in his and squeezing it. You look down at your joined hands and frown as he slowly strokes the skin of your hand with his thumb.
"Why?" You ask in a whisper, not moving an inch when he buries his nose in your hair.
"Because no one hurts what's mine."You snort, knowing full well the true meaning of his words. If you were just a naive young girl, you would believe in the good intentions behind these words. However, you know Feyd Rautha too well to naively believe that he won't break his favourite toys. He grabs your chin in a tight grip and turns you to face him. You swallow thickly as his intense gaze meets yours. You've never had the chance to look so closely at his icy blue eyes... "I want you by my side all the time. I need to make sure you're not planning anything behind my back, little witch."
"Haven't I proven my loyalty enough?" You ask, placing your hands on his bare chest and pushing yourself away from him gently. He chuckles darkly, letting go of your chin in a split second to grab your wrists in a tight grip. He lifts your hands, pushing them away from him and twisting them so you can't move them.
"I believe you are capable of doing much more." He murmurs against your throat, pressing kisses there and lazily sucking at your skin, which was already irritated by his dagger.
You squirm in his arms, trying to somehow protect your neck from his wandering lips. Your attempts fail, as you only give him more fun by grinding against him in a desperate attempt to escape.
Eventually, he gets bored and decides to let you go. He lets you turn your back on him again, but you don't get far. His arms wrap around you, holding you in a cage as he takes on the role of the big spoon.
"I will bring you the head of Atreides on a golden plate. There is only one Kwisatz Haderach—our future son. I won't let some dog from Caladan tell people otherwise." He whispers in your ear. You shiver, half-wishing you were stupid enough to believe in his devotion. The fact that someone can do anything you want for you. But it wasn't love. It was just an obsession. You had to remember that.
"Maybe he really is the one… or maybe it's all just nonsense made up by those old hags? Maybe there will be no Kwisatz Haderach at all? What's then?" He doesn't answer your questions. However, you manage to get some reaction out of him.
He pulls away from you, the bed creaking beneath him as you hear him turn over to his other side. The sudden chill of not having his body close to yours makes you shiver.
You find yourself regretting for a moment that whatever you said made him distance himself from you. You shake your head and sigh, sinking deeper into the pillows. You try to find the most comfortable position possible when settling down to sleep. But for some reason, you don't feel tired at all. Your eyes are wide open as you listen to his soft breathing, the only other sound in the empty room.
"How did you find out about… uncle?" His sudden question makes you turn towards him. He remains turned away from you, ignoring any movement from you. You think for a moment, staring at the scars scattered across his pale, muscular back, before answering him.
"I have eyes and ears. And enough brain cells to… deduce a few things." You whisper, tracing a particularly nasty-looking scar on his back with the pad of your thumb. "I also... I went through something similar. I've told you that before. Bene Gesserit was to me what your uncle is to you." He turns slowly to face you at your words. His eyes examine you so thoroughly that you feel another shiver run through your body.
This time, when he reaches out to cup your cheek, you don't fight him. You let him, trying to decipher the unreadable look in his eyes as he continues to consider your words.
"Tell me... how could I resist when you're like this? How could I ignore you and leave you in your shadows when everything you do fascinates me to a madness that only you can heal?" He asks, tracing the line of your lips with the pad of his thumb.
"You wanted to kill me today." You remind him in an accusatory tone. You bite the tip of his finger, which only brings a smirk to his face as he moves his hand away from your face. He places it on your hip, squeezing it in a silient warning.
"I wanted to scare you. You lied to me, so you needed some punishment. Besides, you know perfectly well that if I really wanted to kill you, you would already be dead."
"Not telling the whole truth is not a lie. Besides… your intentions don't make this situation any different to me." You huff, rolling your eyes. He laughs huskily, caressing your hip through the fabric of your nightgown as he moves closer to you on the bed. Your chest is pressed against his. Both of you are breathing steadily and slowly, staring intently into each other's eyes.
"Are you afraid of the little old me, my little witch?" He asks teasingly. You catch yourself watching the sparkle of amusement in his eyes shine surprisingly brightly under the light of the Arrakis moon. You can't make yourself turn your gaze off of him. And that's what terrifies you.
"Should I?" You ask in a whisper, trembling, not giving him an ounce of trust. Seeing your extremely distrustful and hostile attitude, he stops smiling. He looks at you more seriously, as he is deep into his thinking.
He doesn't respond to you. He places a kiss on your forehead and turns your back to him. He holds you tightly, buries his nose in your hair, and slowly falls asleep, wrapping himself in your warmth and scent. On your back, you feel his heart beating calmly in his strong, well-built chest. You allow yourself to sigh shakily, being finally 'alone' for the first time since this fateful day began.
And you realise that you're not afraid of him at all. The only person you are afraid of is yourself. That you would give in to your strange attraction to him one day and seal your fate. You didn't want to die. But you'd rather find yourself buried under the sands of Arrakis than let those Bene Gesserit witches control your life ever again.
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"If you tear this, you'll be walking around with my hand around your throat." He warns you, seeing you struggling with the black leather choker around your neck he gave you. It looked like a fucking collar. And it was a bit too tight for you to feel comfortable in it.
"You give me so many options…" You snort sarcastically, leaving the damn choker around your neck. "I look like a fucking whore." You say and turn towards him to look at him carefully.
He wore his more formal black armour with a cape that was as dark as the rest of his outfit. He smiles sarcastically and walks over to you. He smoothes the fabric of your dress on your waist and places his hands on your hips.
"Whore? Not at all. More like my pet." He hums, trying to take in your form in a form-fitting black dress. The silver chains on your hips and chest connect into a spider's web that flows down with the fabric of the skirt of the dress, which surprisingly doesn't cling as tightly to your body as the bodice of the dress does.
It's... definitely a bolder outfit than you're used to wearing. And this time, your hair was loose. The maids put silver accessories and small diamond jewels into your hair. You were a nicely wrapped gift, especially prepared for the Na-Baron's birthday.
"What's the difference?" You ask, raising an eyebrow defiantly.
"Calm down, little witch. Rumours about your past spread quickly. We can't let people see me as a weak man who fell under the spell of a Bene Gesserit, can we?" He teases you. He leans towards you and nuzzles your cheek before his lips start to trace a path along your jaw to your neck. You sigh slightly and place your hands on his chest, trying to keep him at a distance.
"Please. Don't pretend you're not doing it for your own fucking satisfaction." You snap at him, still trying to push him away. He puts the dagger on your neck rather quickly and too suddenly, making you refrain from any form of protest for a moment as he decorates your neck with hickeys.
"I'm not even trying to deny it at all… you look stunning, by the way." He growls hoarsely. His blade moves from your neck to the top of your corset, pressing the tip against the valley between your breasts. You sigh, feeling the coolness of the blade against your chest.
"They are waiting for you." You whisper as he nuzzles his nose against yours.
"We have a moment... besides, it's my birthday. Don't you want to celebrate my adulthood?" His low tone of voice sends shivers down your spine. Even after he tosses his blade aside, you make no move to try to walk away from him.
"You're still acting like the horny teenager I met. I doubt you will ever grow up."
"Watch what you say… I can always show you how hornier I became." His warning is not just lip service. He shows it to you... very clearly as his hard length rubs against your thigh.
You grab his jaw tightly and take a step away from him. He laughs, grabbing your wrist and pulling you back into his arms in one quick movement. You gasp in shock, falling into his chest. You struggle in his embrace until he slaps your ass. You glare at him furiously, at which he only tightens his grip on you.
"I want you to paint my body before the fight." He mumbles, caressing your cheek as you try to pull your head back from him.
Leading members of the high houses gathered on Arrakis to celebrate his birthday and the fact that he had managed to restore the mining and export of spices to extraordinary levels.
Feyd was to put on a spectacle, killing the most dangerous Fremen who managed to be kept alive during interrogations. However, you and Feyd have bigger worries to take care of right now. Like the baron and the emperor. Or Paul Atreides... or rather, their Muad'dib, who has not been found by you yet. Something Feyd decided to ignore for now in favor of groping you and trying to get into your pants.
Over the last few weeks, he has clung to you like a limpet. It made it very difficult for you to do any work or spy, as he was literally following you around. You felt like his favourite dog on a leash, taken for walks around the building before locking you in his chambers for the night, keeping you close to him. Even his harpies couldn't take his attention away from you. Something you really hoped would happen soon.
"It's always been… your harpies' privilege." You say as he tangles his hand in your hair.
"And now I want you to do it." He says it calmly, caressing your cheek as you try to pull your head back from him. "Do you mind?" You huff at his condescending question.
"Don't ask me questions like that; otherwise, I'll start thinking that I really have a choice here." He laughs, showing you a set of his freshly painted black teeth and shakes his head at you.
"We both know you're too smart for that, my shrewd little witch." He says this and leans in, gently brushing your lips with his. He keeps a tight grip on your hair as his kiss becomes more intense and possessive. He tightens his grip on your waist, tugging at the fabric of your dress, causing the silver chains on it to clang against each other with every move of his hand.
His hand reaches for the strings of your corset at the back, but before he can untie even one of them, there's a knock on the door.
"My Lord Na-Baron, the Baron, and your brother have just landed on Arrakis. The emperor should also be arriving soon."
You feel him tense slightly as he pulls away from you. His face hardens as he puts on his emotionless mask, staring out the window, where he could probably see the ship landing.
"Come on, little witch. I don't need to remind you to be on your best behaviour, right?" You roll your eyes at him, placing your hand in the crook of his elbow.
"I think I can play your concubine for a day. Consider this my birthday gift to you, my Na-Baron." You say it sarcastically and sweetly, walking with him out of his room and towards the great hall where he would greet everyone gathered. If you were lucky enough, you might be able to escape from him for a moment or two...
"In my chambers as well?" He asks teasingly, and out of the corner of your eye, you see him trying not to smile, but the corner of his lip twitches, giving him away (at least to you).
"Anywhere but there." You reply quickly, making him smile this time. At least for a second. After all, he has a reputation to uphold.
"That's okay. We don't need to do it there. There are so many other places…" He whispers hoarsely in your ear before you enter the room where the first party is to be held. You can't stop a cold shiver from running down your spine.
Doors are opening for you. You wait for him to let go of your waist and move in front of you like he usually does at these types of parties with the concubines he brought for company, but he doesn't do that at all. Instead, he tightens his grip on your waist and holds you by his side as he navigates through the sea of people. You can't help but blush slightly.
If you had any doubts over the last few weeks that he was no longer interested in you, they were gone with his small gesture. He will indeed ruin you. As soon as he finds the opportunity suitable. You were afraid that the evening of his birthday might be considered in his eyes as a perfect time to do this.
But somehow you manage to get out of his sight. You position yourself against the wall, having a perfect view of the most important people in the room. The Baron and Feyd were talking about something with the Emperor and his daughter. You look at them curiously, especially since the Harkonnens have their backs turned to you. And looking at Princess Irulan in a silver dress that was constructed to resemble armour, you see in her your chance for freedom. If Feyd married her, he would probably get over his strange obsession with you.
"Lady Y/N." Feyd's older brother's mocking greeting reaches your ears. You turn to him, taking your eyes off Feyd for a moment, and nod to the man standing next to you.
"Count Rabban."
"I heard you and my brother dealt with the rats of Arrakis. My congratulations." You are quite wary of his civilised attitude. The last time you saw him, Feyd made him kiss his shoes. And yours. So you definitely didn't stay in... a neutral relationship after that.
"Na-Baron is a great commander." You reply with a polite smile. Your eyes involuntarily wander to Feyd. There's a knot in your stomach when you see him talking to the princess. You frown, wondering what the hell is wrong with you.
"I have no doubt." He nods, also looking at Feyd. "He will destroy you. Like any toy he had before you. When you lose your usefulness, he will throw you to his harpies. He's more unpredictable than me or even my uncle. But you know that... so what are you still doing by his side?" He asks, turning his gaze on you.
"I am his right hand. I live to serve him." You answer automatically, shrugging your shoulders.
"If I had known that Bene Gesserit witches were so devoted, I might have appointed one to be my right hand."
"Believe me, count Rabban, the overwhelming majority would not serve him or anyone else so loyally as I do. They would probably prefer to poison themselves." He laughs at your words, taking two drinks from the passing servant. He hands you one, but you shake your head. "I don't drink if I don't have to. Old habits from my home planet. My mother would slap my sisters and me on the hands until she could see our bones as a punishment for stealing a drink or two." You're half lying when you remember how the Reverend Mothers made sure you were completely… untainted by any substances that could make you less healthy. All for breeding. Like farm animals.
"And they say the Harkonnens are monsters. At least you can get drunk with us… well, before we torture you to death or accidentally kill you."
"I've gotten used to it. Fortunately, I have fast reflexes." You reply with a smirk, knowing full well what he's trying to do. He wanted to ingratiate himself with you while you were still important in the Harkonnen court. His brother currently despised him, and his uncle probably did too. He saw an opportunity to increase his political influence when he spotted you alone.
Suddenly, you feel someone's intense gaze on you. You turned your face to notice that Feyd's eyes were on you and not on the princess, with whom he was still talking. Judging by the way your skin was burning from the look Feyd was giving you, you could tell he didn't like his brother being close to you at all.
And Feyd was incredibly pissed off and furious. In his eyes, Rabban wasn't worthy enough of your time, attention, or even being close to you to have the pleasure to smell the scent of your perfumes. But not only did his brother have the courage to talk to you; he even made you smile. Feyd was already planning in his mind how to tear his head off.
Na-Baron would have done just that if an arrow had not suddenly passed between him and Princess Irulan.
Panic filled the room when suddenly, a hail of arrows hit random people. You grabbed your blade and were about to move towards the first archer you noticed, but suddenly a cold steel was pressed against your neck. The Fremen woman holds you tight. You can only stand there calmly and watch as they overpower the more important representatives of the great families, leading the less important people out of the room. Feyd's blue irises are focused on you all the time, which surprisingly makes you feel a little better.
"Silience!" You freeze when you see Paul Atreides emerge from the crowd of Fremen.
Your informants haven't told you much about him. He had done well since he was forced to live on Arrakis among the Fremen. He became stronger, smarter, and more ruthless. He had no weaknesses… except one. You look around the room, your eyes locking on the woman who stood a few metres away from you. His lover.
If living among powerful men taught you anything, it was that they only had a few weaknesses. Fear for their lives, property, title, and, among those younger and less experienced in life, their loved ones. But Paul Atreides changed on Arrakis. He wasn't the little boy you knew during your training with his mother. You could only hope that he loved his woman enough to consider rescuing her. Maybe you will buy enough time before your trops, waiting on ships above Arrakis, come to rescue you.
"Let me go. Give me your blade. Keep your mouth shut and close your eyes for the next 30 minutes." You use your voice on the woman who holds you.
While she does what you told her, you try to get to Atreides' lover unnoticed. You ignore his speech; your heart is racing in your chest, and all you can hear is the sound of your blood flowing in your blood vessels.
When you reach the Fremen woman, you quickly disarm her and press your dagger to her neck. Atreides stops his speech. Before anyone can react, you take a deep breath and say loudly:
"Everyone ten steps back. Stay still, or slit your throat with the nearest weapon." Everyone in the room is listening to you. You have to take a few steps back with the woman you have in your iron grip. You tremble as you feel the eyes of everyone in the room on you, especially Feyd's. However, your gaze is fixed only on Paul Atreides.
"This is impossible… what are you?" He asks in shock, not moving after you forced him and everyone else in the room to back away from you.
"It doesn't matter, Atreides. Take your men and get out of here. I advise you well." You growl furiously at him. You feel the blood start to pulsate in your veins. The old wound on your side is slowly starting to open up under the pressure your body is going through. You're glad you're wearing a black dress. At least not all of them will see the blood stain on your dress when it will be leaking out of you more and more by the second.
"You cannot keep them under your will forever. You'll soon get tired, faint, or bleed to death." He reasons, fully aware that your crowd control is time-limited.
"My men will be landing here soon. They'll take everyone who counts and fly away with us, raining nuclear bombs on your precious little desert. The spice from these areas may have been contaminated for several centuries, but we still have the opposite pole of Arrakis to exploit and extract it. So better choose wisely."
He frowns at your words, looking at you carefully and analysing your facial expressions carefully. You stare at him hard and unfazed, even though you feel the fabric of your dress sticking to your open wound. You have a staring fight with each other until you press your dagger a little more into the woman's throat and take her blood. He looks briefly at his girl before he opens his mouth to speak.
"We've met before, right?"
"You have one minute to make a decision before I make your woman bleed to death in front of you." You say hoarsely, feeling your muscles tremble slightly. But you hold on with all your might, maintaining your calm, dangerous, hostile attitude.
You all wait in suspense to see what he will do. He might as well attack and kill you, risking his men overpowering any reinforcements that come to your rescue. But you hope he's considerate enough to back off. If not because of the people who came after him, then because of his girlfriend or concubine, whose life now depends solely on you.
You almost sigh in fucking relief when he takes a step back. You let him get out of your control, looking at him carefully all the time. You swallowed and let go of his woman.
"Follow your Muad'Dib." You command the people of the desert. They stare at you for a moment before their eyes rest anxiously on their leader. He nods at them as he slowly leaves the room.
As quickly as they arrived, they left. You stand at attention for a long time—a minute, an hour, or hours—until you hear the ship approaching and the movement of the sands of Arrakis under the influence of sandworms.
They left. You realise this with relief. However, it is a very short-lived relief. It ends when your eyes meet the eyes of the reverend mothers, who are clearly communicating with each other. You fucked up. You revealed that you were a Bene Gesserit, or at least that you knew some of their tricks. Unconsciously, you completely let go of control over the gathered crowd.
"Why didn't you wait for your people so we could kill them? Kill him?" The emperor's voice reaches you vaguely. You raise your head and meet the gaze of an old man standing a few steps away from you.
"I bluffed, my emperor." You reply shakily, feeling blood start to flow from your nose as well.
"What?" He asks in shock, unable to believe that all your talk was a pure bluff. You don't have the strength to explain anything. You can stare blankly at the floor, feeling your strength slowly begin to drain away after you use the voice on the people gathered in the room.
"I bluffed." You repeat, feeling your heart beat rapidly against your chest. Your vision becomes completely blurry; all you can hear is the buzzing in your ears, the pounding of your heart, and the slow dripping of your blood onto the floor.
"But… you…" Whatever he was about to say, he's interrupted by you falling to your knees. You don't register at all what's happening around you. The only thing you are sure of is that there are suddenly a lot of people around you.
You're clinging to what little consciousness you have when you suddenly feel something pull you against the hard wall of muscle. You lean against the unexpected support, slowly drifting into blissful unconsciousness as you no longer feel the pain from the open wound on your side. The hoarse call of your name makes you a little more aware, enough to distinguish Feyd's voice from the indistinct gibberish around you.
"Get a medic here!"
He whispers something else to you as he brushes your hair out of your face, but you don't hear anything anymore. You let yourself go into the blissful darkness, happy that you can rest, at least for a moment. And you feel surprisingly comfortable, with the warmth of his arms and his scent being the last things you feel before passing out.
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You're surprised that when you wake up in the hospital wing, there's no one at your bed, looking at you like a guard dog. Once you get used to the feeling of being fully aware, you rub your eyes. The moonlight shines through the window, illuminating a dark and empty room you found yourself in.
You ignore the strange twinge in your chest when you don't see your Na-Baron anywhere near you and slowly sit up on the bed. You check the status of your wound and are pleased to see that you are in a more stable condition than you were a few hours ago.
You place your feet on the floor and slowly stand up, testing your muscles. You're relieved to see that it's not as bad as it was in the past. You walk over to the chair where a black silk robe is hanging and put it on. You take a moment to search the room, smiling hugely when you find your daggers on the nightstand next to your bed. You attach one to your thigh and tuck the other inside the sleeve of your robe. Maintaining great silence, you tiptoe out of the room.
You sigh in relief as you wander the empty corridors again, hiding in their shadows. You feel like a newborn, like a fish that has returned to the current of a familiar river. You weren't aware of how therapeutic it was for you to wander the halls alone at night until Feyd trapped you in his arms and his bed practically every night. You missed it. Very much so.
However, today's attempted attack by Atreides made you realise that you were too focused on getting away from Harkonnen and trying to keep him at a distance. You had to take action. Otherwise, Paul Atreides will cut off your head, just like his mother once wanted to do.
You shudder as you remember the day you escaped from the Bene Gesserit sisters' sanctum.
You ran barefoot through familiar corridors in the cold, dark night. You didn't need a torch or other light. You had lived within these walls long enough to know which corridors ended in dead ends and where to turn to reach each gate. But Lady Jessica knew them as well as you. You had to be a lot smarter if you were going to escape the woman who wanted you dead.
Yesterday there was a great meeting of Reverend Mothers after Lady Jessica failed to give birth to Leto Atreides' daughter at the right time. The Reverend Mothers had to find... a new breeding mare for Feyd Rauthy, from whose blood the Kwisatz Haderach was to be created. They chose you. And now, because of this honour that had been a death sentence for you from the very beginning—a curse, an evil fate that seemed to have stuck with you since your birth—Lady Jessica had tried to kill you in your sleep and was now trying to complete her work.
You decide to go to the ramp, hoping that you might be able to capture some small ship—something flying around—that would get you away from those damn Bene Gesserit.
You knew you were too weak to fight Lady Jessica. She taught you a lot, but not how to defeat someone stronger, like her. If you wanted to live, you needed to find a way to escape.
You speed up as you hear the click of her heels behind you. You run as fast as you can, reaching the door just as Lady Jessica appears at the end of the hall. You close the door behind you with a loud snap. You sigh, leaning against it for a moment. You freeze as you feel the blade against your throat.
"Step away." You order in panic before opening your eyes. A cold chill runs through you as you see Na-Baron Harkonnen's cold blue irises staring at you in shock as he obediently steps away from you.
You stand there for a few minutes, staring at each other without saying anything. Na-Baron examines you carefully: your dishevelled state, rapid breathing, red cheeks, and bare feet. You have no idea what he deduced, but it was enough for him to not immediately slit your throat for using the voice on him.
"You should go back to your sisters, little witch. Unless you want to join me, I wouldn't say no to the company of... such a pretty mouse." He speaks hoarsely. He doesn't wait for your answer, though. He simply turns and walks slowly towards the ship his men are packing. You swallow and wonder: Is death at the hands of Lady Jessica or at the hands of Harkonnen? Your pride chooses for you.
"I'm not a mouse, I'm a warrior." You reply, gathering all your inner courage. Na-Baron stops in his way.
His raspy laugh sends another shiver down your spine as he slowly turns back to face you. He approaches you slowly, each step perfectly calculated as he stands a few millimeters in front of you, invading your personal space. You raise your head proudly and meet his gaze with your own, determined one.
Which impresses him.
So much so that he reaches for the dagger strapped to his hip. You don't flinch when he runs the tip of the dagger across his tongue. You watch him closely, waiting for him to either slit your throat or accept the challenge. Feyd is surprised. And very curious—too curious—to simply walk away and continue on his path. That's why he takes your hand in his and hands you the dagger he was just testing.
"So show me what you can do, little witch. Except for using that honeyed voice of yours." He says it mockingly and takes two steps back, drawing another hidden blade from his armour.
You don't remember the entire fight clearly. The adrenaline was pumping through you so much that you only remember snippets of that dance with him with daggers in your hands. Surprisingly, neither of you disarmed the other. You stopped as you both placed your blades against the other's flesh—at points that would guarantee instant death if either of you decided to press the blade against the skin a little harder.
"You fight well, little witch." He praises you, moving away from you. "You're wasting yourself here." He says, looking at you acutely for a long time, considering something. But finally, he nods at you and turns again to join his men and board the ship. You quickly grab his hand before he gets too far away from you. You feel him tense at your touch, but he doesn't make any moves.
"Let me go with you. My blade will be an extension of yours, Na-Baron. I'll be your spy from the shadows, just... get me out of here." He widens his eyes slightly, unprepared for such a request. He turns towards you and glares at you with his icy irises.
It could very well be a trick from those witches, but Feyd would be lying if he didn't say that you caught his attention the first day he saw you training. And he really wanted to see what you were really capable of doing. Few had the guts to challenge him. And he found it somehow charming—how your eyes shone with determination every time you held the blade in your hands.
"Your sisters won't be happy when they find out that I took one of them to Giedi Prime." He says, feigning hesitation. His people knew him well. If he wanted something, he took it. A group of old witches wouldn't stop him, not now that he saw... great potential in you. Maybe not only as one of his soldiers.
"With all due respect, your house is not known for following anyone's rules except those you set. I… I can't stay here any longer."
His heart beat faster, seeing the desperation and helplessness in your eyes. Normally, he would laugh at someone who showed him weakness and kill him on the spot without much thought. But you... when you stared at him with those pleading eyes of yours, flushed from fighting him... it did something to him.
Feyd knew the feeling of helplessness. His uncle loved making him feel this way. And Feyd himself finds great enjoyment in making others feel that way. Humiliated. Weak. Scared. Somehow he didn't like the fact that staying in the sisterhood made you... feel like that and do such desperate actions as coming with him to Giedi Prime.
However, he had no intention of letting go of such a valuable bird that was voluntarily pushing itself into his cage.
"Well, you fight better than most of my men... I will make you my right hand. And as for your Bene Gesserit sisters..." You sigh softly as he reaches for your hair and cuts it in half. He cuts your shoulder and dips the cut hair in your blood. You see him put a few strands in his pocket, before he handed them to his servant, growling something at him in his native language. You raise an eyebrow at him. "I told him to convey my thanks to the Reverend Mother for... sending me a delightful toy. He might also mention that my darlings liked your meat." You nod, swallowing. He laughs mockingly, patting your shoulder. "You have many things to learn, little witch. You better prove to me that I wasn't wrong about you, or you will suffer exactly the fate that my servant will pass on to your sisters. I don't like weakness and disappointment."
"I have no intention of disappointing you, Na-Baron."
"Good. Come with me. I'm fed up with this planet. Besides, you need to change your clothes if you don't want my men to think you're a whore they can enjoy while on our journey." He nods and walks towards the ship. You follow him like his shadow, casting cold, sinister glances at the people staring at you.
"I am perfectly capable of defending myself, my lord." You reply confidently as you walk with him up the ramp to the Harkonnen ship. You see a small smile appear on his face at your words.
"I don't doubt that. However, I wouldn't want to lose more people than necessary. It's supposed to be your job to clean up after me, not the other way around, little witch." He responds, testing you and carefully watching your reaction. You don't flinch, perfectly prepared and familiar with... the brutality of the Harkonnens.
"Duly noted. There's only one thing I don't understand." He doesn't stop in his steps, but he gives you a quick glance and hums, allowing you to continue and ask a question. "I appreciate it very much, but… why didn't you kill me at the entrance?"
He chuckles hoarsely at your question and stops at a specific door. He turns to look at you, a spark of amusement shining in his eyes as he studies you like a predator would its prey before deciding to answer you.
"You didn't apologise or beg for your life. I found it... very refreshing." He says, opening the door. The metallic smell of blood fills your nostrils. You look into the room and see several prisoners chained to the wall of the ship with some strange cuts on their chests—probably some words in Harkonnen."Your first task, little witch. My darlings are very hungry. They will need the meat of my enemies. Come back here in an hour... I should finish by then. And change that rag you wear. I want to see you only in black." He orders, closing the door behind him with a bang.
You stand in the hallway for a moment, blinking and staring at the door, as you are suddenly thrown into a new reality that you have to get used to. You mutter a series of curses under your breath as you go searching for... any clothes or shoes. The cold metal of the ship's floor and the dried blood in some places made walking around on your bare feet quite uncomfortable.
Feyd-Rautha was indeed psychopathic... but it was better for you to be the devil's right hand than his mistress. And it was certainly better to inhale the toxins of Giedi Prime than to smell the flowers from underneath your grave.
You find yourself in front of a door that you don't want to go through. But you know you have to do it if you want to remain free and independent of anyone. You couldn't escape now. Not before Feyd-Rautha. You had to pay the price of your freedom with someone else's freedom. And you were ruthless enough to do it without blinking an eye. Maybe the years of living with Harkonnen really made you one of them...
You knock and enter the cave of Feyd's three harpies.
As you might expect, they don't welcome you very warmly. As soon as you close the door behind you, you hear their hisses. They stop feasting on some Fremen and glare at you, slowly approaching you.
"Relax, ladies. I'm here... to make a small agreement." You announce, taking a seat in the only chair that, surprisingly, isn't covered in anyone's blood. The women look at each other distrustfully and approach the table where you are sitting.
"Agreement?"
"With a little witch?"
"We don't make any agreements with our meals; we simply eat them."
You don't flinch at their words. Instead, you nod and draw your dagger when they get too close to you. Two of them move away automatically, but one—the oldest of them—continues to look at you. You give her a cold and dispassionate glare as you play with the blade in your fingers.
"But that's exactly what I'm talking about. About... a food. A great meal. A feast you will remember for a long time, ladies." You try your best to sound encouraging.
Their eyes light up, interested as you meet a fresh meal. You know perfectly well that they haven't eaten anything... desirable for a long time. They probably had to drag the body of this miserable man to their chamber themselves since you didn't have time to... make sure they were fed. And if there's one thing you can get on Giedi Prime with something other than power and sex, it's food.
"The little witch is planning something…"
"The little witch is up to something interesting…"
"The little witch wants to do something against our master…"
You look at them unfazed as they read that you have no clear intentions at all when it comes to working with them. But anyone who managed to survive on Giedi Prime and Arrakis was surely a man whose conscience had gone a long time ago.
And maybe your plan wasn't good for everyone... but it was definitely good for you. And Feyd. He'll agree with you... or at least you hope so. You're still not sure if his obsession with you was just a passing whim or if he really wanted to keep you with him. But you didn't want to end up like his concubines and pets.
"Possibly... but isn't that what you want? For your master to give you his attention again instead of taking care of me?" This seems to interest them even more than the promise of food.
"What do you want, little witch?" The oldest harpy asks you, looking at you carefully. You give her a mischievous, sinister smirk.
'"Have you ever thought of feasting on the Baron?" Your question hangs in the room. The harpies watch you carefully, smiling slowly and showing a row of black teeth.
Nothing united women like a common enemy.
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To be continued... Taglist: (I REALLLLY hope that everyone who wanted to be here is here...😅 I;m sorry if I missed someone <3) @skymoonandstardust @prettybubblesintheair @thegabbyh @himesuedi @wo-ming-bai @beebeechaos @mamawiggers1980 @moonsoulk @avidreader73 @heartarianagran @dreamlandcreations @ancientbeing10 @lovereadingfanfic @jeansjoie @workof-a-rr-t @aixicl @ladyredstar1991 @evangelineimagine @hobobobo-fett56 @happyant3 @marsflys @aaaaaamond @kamcrazy123 @k1swass @yum-yahgurt @tyns13 @oh-you-mean-me @menari @tyns13 @vaf24 @dacreshoney @emrennoll-blog @tian-monique @slightlypossessed @celestialadrift @lauramooij05 @flaps200 @chixnugg22 @aaaaaamond @marvelfangirl04 @sw33tsnow @emeraldsgirl @imyourbubblegumpop @tempt-ress @k1swass @alana4610 @cloudroomblog @lotus-888 @lowlyloved @spoolsofgreenspoolsofblack @w3ird11 @kythefangirl25 @hobobobo-fett56 @nj452896
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kyeomofhearts · 6 months
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+ summary: while adjusting to your new life in college, you couldn't help but attract the attention of wonwoo, someone who you happen to have a history with.
+ pairing: badboy!wonwoo x fem!reader
+ word count: 2.7k
+ content: badboy!wonwoo, college au, mature language, flirting (wonwoo is a menace), jealousy. [pls let me know if i missed anything!]
Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV
[ᝰ.ᐟ] i hope you guys enjoy this! it's most likely going to be a two-parter so definitely let me know if you want to be added to my taglist! i would greatly appreciate it if you guys reblogged (maybe with comments too ^^) since i thrive on your guys' validation :)
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You were tired, very tired.
Granted, this was your own doing. Maybe if you hadn't pushed your responsibilities to the side last night you wouldn't have had to wake up so early to study for an exam, but what's done is done. This whole college thing was not going so well, to say the least. Sure, it's only the beginning of the second semester, but you already feel exhausted by all of your class workloads.
Just ten more minutes of this boring lecture and you could finally go home and crawl into bed. But… that's only if you avoid him today. Which now that you’re thinking about it, you hope he isn’t waiting for you outside, again. That would be the last thing you needed today.
With that being said, things have felt a little weird if you were being honest. Of course, this was your first year of university, so things were bound to feel new and different. But there was something, or rather someone that was making you feel strange.
Around two weeks ago you noticed that Wonwoo, an old classmate of yours, had recently started to become a bit friendly towards you. While that normally wouldn’t be considered weird, you couldn’t help but feel skeptical about his intentions. You knew the kind of people he surrounded himself with, and especially the girls he would go after; which was the exact opposite of you. So what exactly did he want from you?
What also makes this situation more odd is that you’ve basically known Wonwoo for your whole life. Of course, you don’t actually know him, you just happened to go to the same elementary, middle, and high school (which is insane if you think about it). Acquaintance is a perfect word to describe your relationship with him, nothing more nothing less. So yeah… it’s a little weird when the guy you have been around for (almost) your whole life is suddenly trying to befriend you, there definitely had to be something wrong with him.
All you knew about Wonwoo was that he was on the more reserved and quiet side; mainly keeping to himself most of the time. His group of friends was quite the opposite of him, which always made you wonder how he even became friends with them in the first place.
Seeing how the lecture was ending soon, you started to pack your stuff; you were more than ready to dash straight out of the classroom. Having finished all of your assignments for today, you had nothing left to worry about. So once the professor had made her goodbyes, you made a straight beeline to the door, nothing was going to hold you back from your long-awaited nap. Your pace was brisk, attempting to avoid the backed-up main exit, you decided to go to the opposite door. The walk back to your apartment wasn’t too bad either, most of the time you saw it as a way to daydream and listen to music. So while you scrolled through your various playlists, you happened to miss the (very obvious) figure following you.
Wonwoo called out your name a few times until it finally dawned on him that you had your headphones on. He took a few long strides to catch up to you; he was very adamant on getting your attention this morning. With ease, he quickly plucked your headphones off of your head.
“What are we listening to today?” He said while adjusting the headphones on his head. It took you a second to fully process what he was doing. You knew he was doing it to provoke you, but you were determined to not let that happen today. So to his surprise, you simply kept walking. You figured that he would continue with his antics if you gave him the reaction that he wanted so you did the opposite, you ignored him.
What shocked him the most was seeing you pull out an old pair of earbuds and plugging them into your phone. He was dumbfounded to say the least, how were you so prepared and why were you ignoring him?
And again, he quickly caught up with a few simple steps. He took your headphones off of his head and tapped them against your shoulder.
With a tired sigh, you turned around to face him but couldn’t help but admire his face. You really didn't want to lose that ‘expressionless’ look you were going for (to help you ignore him of course), but that small smile of his was enough to crack you down. It's like he knew that it was your one weakness when it came to him. This was the most annoying part of it all. Anytime he smiled or looked at you, a tiny part inside you secretly liked it, making you crave his attention at times.
Objectively speaking, Wonwoo was very handsome. That was something you could never deny, you would even go as far as to say that he was your type but you didn't particularly like the people he called his ‘friends’ so you were stuck in a weird limbo.
“Is there something on my face, birdy?”
You scoffed at the nickname. “I told you not to call me that.”
Wonwoo’s eyes were looking straight into yours, a smirk slowly creeping up to his lips. It didn't help that he was looking really good today either, his messy hair combined with the whole biker fit did wonders for your eyes. He was about to say something before you heard your ringtone go off, evidently cutting him off.
Oh.
It was Hyunwoo. That's odd... you finished your shared project with him rather early, what could he be calling you about? Either way, you answered the random call in front of a rather annoyed Wonwoo.
"Hello?"
"Heyyy yn, I was wondering if you wanted to get lunch later today?" You couldn't help but feel your eyes widen at his sudden question. Since when did he want to hang out with you? Last time you checked he had a plethora of girls that he was talking to... maybe he was interested in you? No, you shouldn't get too ahead of yourself...
"Um... let me check if I have anything to do first. Can I call you back?" You knew that you sounded nervous but how else were you supposed to feel when the cute guy from your physics class was literally asking you to eat lunch with him?
As soon as you ended the call, you felt Wonwoo's arm snake its way down to your waist. You couldn’t help but yelp at the sudden intimate contact. Chuckling at your reaction, he leaned down, closer to your ear. “Who was that?”
"No one." You stated simply, it wasn't his business anyway.
"Hm, okay," Wonwoo rested his head on your shoulder, continuing to speak lowly in your ear. "I'll remember that birdy."
Before you could even come up with something to counter him, he decided to speak up once again.
"Well, I do have something rather important to tell you." His voice was so calm and soothing, you could honestly listen to it for hours on end if you had the chance.
"What is it?" You hoped he couldn't sense your rather, embarrassing, curiosity.
"Heard you used to have a little crush on me," his voice was evidently smug, knowing that this would surely get a rise out of you.
Which it did.
Your face burned at the memories of when you used to have a crush on Wonwoo. But, that had to be in fourth grade… so how could he have known about that? Nonetheless, you scoffed at his statement, not wanting to know that you were a little embarrassed by the sudden reminder.
“Key word, had,” you rolled your eyes at him. This did make you curious though, who could have possibly told him that? So you asked him exactly that.
“How do you even know about that?” His smile never faltered even as you lightly pushed his hand away from your waist. If anything, this made him want to touch you even more.
“I have my ways,” he stated simply. Of course, he does. You hated when he would shrug things off, now this was going to bother you for the entire week!
One thing about Wonwoo was that he has always been curious about you, this interest stemming back all the way to your elementary days. This curiosity eventually intensified in junior year of high school when you began to show your blatant distaste towards him. He just had to get to know you.
He looked down at you, his face was unreadable like always. You never knew what was going on in that mind of his.
"Why are you here? Shouldn't you be hanging out with your actual friends?" Sometimes you couldn't help but blurt out your thoughts to him even if they sounded a bit rude. His face faltered for a split second, probably caught off guard by the random question. Shoot, you really didn’t mean to say that out loud. Although, it looks like Wonwoo didn’t take any offense to your sudden question. If anything, it made him... smile?
“I am hanging out with my friend,” he stopped you to face him, “which is you.” You rolled your eyes at him. That had to be the corniest thing he has ever said to you if you were being honest. You just hated that giddy feeling he would give you any time he said something remotely cheesy.
"Ugh, you're so dumb," you groaned while checking the time on your phone. It was getting close to noon and you hadn't responded to Hyunwoo's question from earlier. Maybe it was best if you didn't go... who knows what he wanted from you. If you were being completely honest, you didn't know if you had it in you to see other people at the moment, aside from Wonwoo of course.
"Have somewhere to be?" Wonwoo asked, a hint of concern peeking through his voice.
"No, thank god, but I do have a scheduled nap to get to so if you don't mind-" you were cut off by the sound of an engine revving, making your body jump at the unexpected noise. You turned to see where the source of the commotion was coming from but then realized it was coming from a group of bikers nearby; most likely Wonwoo's friends.
Or so you thought?
Wonwoo didn't seem too pleased with the group that was getting closer to where the two of you were. On the contrary, Wonwoo looked pissed. His jaw was visibly clenched, the gentle grip he had on your waist tightened, and his eyes lost that playful spark he had earlier. You couldn't help but feel guilty for thinking about how hot Wonwoo looked when he was angry. Of course, you would never want to be on the receiving end of his anger but seeing it on the sidelines was quite... interesting.
Wait. This might actually be serious, so it's best if you leave before anything crazy happens.
"I think I'm going to head out now..." you said quietly as you tried to slip away from Wonwoo's (awfully) strong grasp.
He turned to look at you, his eyes softening once they landed on your figure. Why did they have to come and bother him at this exact moment? He knew that whatever was going to happen was not going to be pretty, but he found himself reluctant to let you go.
Before truly letting you go, he quietly asked, "Are you sure? I can take you home if you want me to." As soft as his voice was, he still managed to sound composed which was comforting considering the situation.
You nodded in response, "I don't live that far from here so it's fine, thank you for the offer though." You managed to flash him a small, awkward smile before turning away from him and heading toward the direction of your apartment. You didn't know what exactly was going on between those guys and Wonwoo but it for sure wasn't friendly. Although it wasn't exactly your issue, you couldn't help but feel worried about Wonwoo, even if he was a pain in the ass sometimes.
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Much to your dismay, that scheduled nap never came your way that day.
You blame Wonwoo, how were you supposed to sleep peacefully knowing he was probably getting jumped? Okay, you might be jumping to conclusions but what else were you supposed to think about when he was visibly angry at the mere sight of those guys?
Realistically speaking, it's only been two days since that whole incident happened. Granted, you haven't seen Wonwoo since then but that could mean a lot of things.
[...]
While you were in line to get a smoothie from one of the pop-up shops near the campus, you felt a sudden tap on your shoulder.
"Did my little birdy miss me?" You felt Wonwoo say right next to your ear, his breath fanning across your earlobe. It sent a wave of tingles down your spine, making you shudder in turn. Though you weren't a fan of his spontaneous appearance.
"God, you need to stop doing that! I almost slapped you I swear-" You stopped mid-way once you turned around and saw his face. He had a few cuts on his lips and eyebrows and one big bruise across his cheek. Those guys really did a number on him.
Your eyebrows furrowed in concern, "are you okay?"
He tried to wave it off but you could tell he was bothered by your question, "It's fine, really, don't worry about it." Was he insane? How were you not going to worry when he was visibly injured?
"Were these from the guys on Tuesday?" You couldn't help but ask, where else would he get these cuts and bruises if it didn't come from them?
His demeanor immediately switched and he pushed himself away from you.
"It's none of your business so stay out of it."
"Okay." That was the only thing you said before grabbing your smoothie from the worker and quickly walking away from the shop. If he wanted to be like that then so be it. You most definitely were not going to wait for him to 'open up' by all means, he could throw himself a pity party for all you care.
"Wait-" He tried reaching for your arm but you were too quick for him. Your steps were swift, helping you create a reasonable distance between you and Wonwoo. He called out your name a few times before giving up, he didn't want to gather any unwanted attention from the people nearby. Reaching your pace, Wonwoo was finally close enough to grab your wrist and make you look at him.
"Are you seriously ignoring me?" His voice was a bit jagged, no doubt coming from the unexpected cardio you made him do to catch up to you.
Unfortunately for him, you were petty. "You said it wasn't my business, so please do not talk to me because I really do not care." You brushed past him once again this time making sure he could not grab your arms or wrists.
He exhaled in annoyance, "Look I'm sorry-" Wonwoo was mid-apology before being abruptly cut off by the voice of a guy yelling your name out loud.
Speaking of the devil, what immaculate timing.
"Hey yn! Did you still want to get food after class?" Hyunwoo jogged to where you were standing but saw how Wonwoo was still trying to talk to you.
"Sorry, were you busy with him?"
You instantly responded to Hyunwoo, "No, he was just asking for directions, but yeah I'm down for food." Like before, you made your way towards Hyunwoo, making sure to bump into Wonwoo. He couldn't help but stay frozen in place as he watched you walk to class with some random guy, jealousy slowly invading his mind.
Directions? Did she really...?
As much as Wonwoo wanted to be mad at you, he really had no one to blame but himself. The whole situation with his old group of 'friends' was really getting to him so once you popped that question it just seemed to send him over the edge. He just didn't know how far you would go to express your annoyance towards him. Now all he had to do was find a way to properly apologize to you before that Hyunwoo guy got to you first.
The only thing stopping him? He didn't have your number or any of your socials...
Part Two: II
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miya-rin · 2 months
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“what the fuck do you two think youre doing?”
shit, you think, you didnt notice the balcony door had been slid open until you heard the voice of one of your brothers. you start to pull away from suna’s lips which earns you a small whine from his end, his grip tightens around you and honestly it its quite cute the way he is trying so hard to savour the moment. “come back later, we’re kinda busy.” the boy mutters before trying to move your face away from the distraction so that he can kiss you once more.
“suna you get your hands off of her right now, i dont give a fuck that its your birthday.” osamu pipes up, he looks furious and a little bit disgusted, if it hadnt been for the situation youre in right now you would think its kind of funny.
“samu lay off him, it was a mutual agreement, im just as guilty as he is ok?” that does not seem to help the boys understand, if anything they seem even more angry with you both.
“what the fuck do you mean it was a mutual agreement? are you two hooking up or something? yn he just turned 18 a few hours ago are you forgetting that?” atsumu says, he is rambling on with every excuse he can think of as to why this is “so wrong”, from the corner of your eye you can see suna trying so very hard to hide the grin that is creeping its way onto his face, his hands still all over you despite the fact that you arent alone anymore.
“listen, it was his birthday wish ok? i swear it didn’t mean anything,” sunas grip begins to loosen ever so slightly, “i just though it would get him off my back and get him over his little crush on me.” suna’s facial expression shifts but you choose to ignore it, you have bigger problems to deal with at the moment.
“no this is not ok, how would you feel if me or samu kissed one of your friends because it was their birthday wish?”
“that’s different, why would my friends want to kiss either of you?”
“excuse me? ill have you know that many women want to kiss me! and dont think youre getting off the hook either suna, ill make sure you never-“ you dont even want to hear the threat that is about to come out of his mouth, you just want to get out of this shitty situation.
“boys please, just give us five minutes to talk and then we will be back inside ok? i promise.” your efforts to plead with your brothers finally work.
“…fine,” atsumu mumbles, “but this better be a one time thing. im not gonna deal with you two being all lovey dovey around me.” and with that he lightly tugs on osamu’s sleeve, signalling him to walk back inside and continue the party. he closes the balcony door but not before bringing two fingers up to his eyes and then pointing them at the two of you. its a warning.
you turn back to suna and notice the sad look on his face - he looks kinda cute like this, “so, what do-“.
“did you really mean what you just said to them?” the poor boy looks heartbroken, after waiting three years to finally have a chance with the girl he loves wants the moment is ruined like that? “did you actually just do that so i would leave you alone?” his hands fully leave your body now and he takes a step back to put some distance between you two.
“well i mean sort of yeah… ive never looked at you in any way other than my brothers best friend if im going to be honest, i dont know if thats because of the age difference or what but ive never thought we could be anything.” the look of hurt is prominent on his face no matter how hard he tries to hide it, normally playful banter would have been thrown back and forth between the two of you but rintarou just stays silent, an indication that youve fucked up.
“listen suna i dont know what you want me to say, i wasnt really thinking when i said that to atsumu it just came out. i am 4 years older than you and many people would not approve of us if i decided to give you a chance.”
“who cares? i could treat you so right if you would just let me. i have waited entirely too long for this moment, all im asking for is one date.”
“you said that about the kiss too, one thing is never enough with you is it? you always need more.” a playful smile creeps onto your face which is outshined by the one on sunas, he knows that your smile means that you agree to go on a date with him.
“i really hope you arent fucking with me right now, that would be so cruel, especially on my birthday.”
“oh give the birthday excuse a rest now will you? you dont need to keep on at me you have already got what you want.”
“mhm i absolutely have,” he walks closer and once again wraps his arms around you, placing a hand under your jawbone to make you look up at him, “and i couldnt be happier.” he states as he pulls you in for a passionate kiss once more <3
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latetaektalk · 6 months
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love to hate you | jjk [viii]
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“when obnoxiously rich and spoiled frat boy jeon jungkook comes up to you one day and asks you to fake date him for money, you definitely should have said no. because before you knew it, you were going on insta dates with him and having lunch with his equally obnoxiously rich and spoiled friends.”
— genre: sexual themes, angst, fluff, fratboy! AU, fake dating! AU, college! AU, rich kid! AU, enemies to lovers! AU
— pairing: jungkook x female reader
— word count: 18.351
— warnings: swearing/cursing, communication skills nowhere to be found, chronic overthinking, emotional rollercoaster, confusingly set during christmas <3
— a/n: and just like that we've crossed 100k !! its here, the big one. by far one of my favourite chapters that ive written so far!! hope you guys enjoy it!! praying yall wont hate me for this one haha once again, this is inspired by To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before by Jenny Han!
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You didn’t miss the look Chaeyoung and Jisoo exchanged, or the way Hoseok longingly looked after Jimin as he quickly walked away to get everyone some food after you sat down, or how Jimin muttered something about how someone clearly needed something to eat. The comment didn’t bother you because he was right and you could admit as much.
The mall had never been your favourite place to go, and even less so today. The Christmas decoration put up around you seemed overly tacky and in bad taste, and you could have ripped off your ears, sick of listening to the same three Christmas songs over and over again. You closed your eyes that ached from the bright colourful lights, and scrunched your nose when your arm bumped into one of your shopping bags. Your patience hung by a string, the fibers breaking with every passing second. Everything hurt, from your head to your arms and your feet.
Nothing was right, and there seemed to be no end to it.
“Fries?” 
Jimin specifially offered them to you, placing two medium plates of golden fries in the middle of the table. You took him up on it, taking two and throwing them into your mouth. The fries were bland and not salty enough but you took three more pieces, shoving your face full. As if the grease and carbs would fix anything. 
“Do you wanna try the thrift store that Ji suggested?” Chaeyoung asked, choosing her words carefully, and you cringed, shaking your head. 
“No.”
The silence continued, and you didn’t miss the looks your friends exchanged. There was clearly a conversation going on over your head, but you didn’t care, reaching for one fry after the other.
“Y/N, it’s gonna be fine,” Jimin said in the end, putting his arm around your shoulder. Bold, but when was he not. “Don’t be so down. That one dress- the beige one looked great on you!”
“Yeah, but also, they don’t care about what you wear,” Jisoo continued, not allowing you to even begin to disagree.
“And you still have time to find the perfect thing, right? If you do decide that the dress isn’t up to standard. Didn’t you get some stuff online too?” Hoseok asked, trying to get you to look at him, but you just closed your eyes and pulled your lips into a line.
They didn’t get it. But telling them that would be of no use, just like how their words didn’t encourage you the slightest bit. 
“I promise you Kook’s parents are really the sweetest people I’ve-”
“Yeah, maybe, I don’t know,” you mumbled, cutting off Jimin. You rubbed your eyes until you saw black spots. With a sigh, you leaned back. “I’ll figure it out, I think.”
There was no confidence in your words. To you, it seemed like your life was about to end, all over a stupid outfit you couldn’t put together. The thought almost made you laugh and cry at the same time. This was as ridiculous as it could get. 
“What did Kook say?” Chaeyoung asked, and you frowned.
“About what?”
She blinked at you, her brows creasing together. “Well, have you talked to Kook about any of this? How you’re worried about meeting his parents?”
You pressed your mouth into a line, and you didn’t even know where to begin. It seemed futile to you to explain that you possibly couldn’t tell Jungkook about all of the thoughts suffocating your mind. You would look stupid, like an absolute fool. You would look like you cared, and really, you didn’t. It would weird him out—how much you stressed about it, how much it was on your mind. But then again, really, actually, you didn’t care at all. You just were… especially irritable these days. Hormones were raging—your period, of course, greeting you just a day prior.
“No,” you exhaled, shaking your head. You didn’t know what exactly you were denying—you being stressed about meeting his parents, or you not talking about it to him. Probably both. “He’s busy with his stuff. He’s got a paper to finish- it’s fine.”
And even though you closed your eyes, you knew your friends were looking at each other. There was a carefulness with which they spoke to you, and you did feel bad. Just nothing seemed to lift your spirits.
“I’m sorry. I haven’t been in… a good mood these days,” you told them, getting more annoyed at yourself for being the way you were. You hid your face in your hands. “I don’t know what’s up with me.”
“It’s fine,” Jimin assured you. “We know you’re stressed.”
Jisoo placed an arm around you, leaning her shoulder against yours. She opened her mouth before closing again, ultimately she decided to speak. 
“What if… you don’t go?” 
“Ji,” Jimin whispered, looking at her as if she had just suggested something criminal.
“I’m just saying— it’s stressing her out so much, maybe she shouldn’t go.” Jisoo shrugged, believing her suggestion to be rather harmless. “She can meet his parents another time, right?”
You looked at her. She grimaced, apologetic, about to backpedal, taking your expression as offence. But you waved her off. Her suggestion was meant well, you knew that. It would also be more than a lie to say you hadn’t thought about it too. Of course, you had. But you couldn’t do it. Not when the image of Narae popped into your mind every time you did consider it. 
“Okay, fine,” Jisoo sighed, relenting. “But I’m just saying he’ll understand if you don’t want to go. It’s not like you guys are getting married.”
Chaeyoung mumbled something to her, but you couldn’t hear it. If you had to guess she told her to lay it off, which you were admittedly thankful for.
“I don’t even have gifts,” you groaned, remembering that your outfit wasn’t the only issue plagueing your mind. “Do I bring an actual gifts? Or just wine? Flowers? Something more personal? I don’t fucking know.”
“Do you have to bring them anything?” Hoseok asked, frowning. “I mean yeah, I guess it’s Christmas and you’re meeting them for the first time, but I don’t know, I’m not sure if you have to bring them anything.”
“I don’t think you do. They’re just happy to meet you, I promise,” Jimin said, squeezing your shoulder, but somehow, his answer annoyed you even more. Because what if he was wrong? And they use it as a reason as to why they didn’t like you because you showed up empty handed? Poor and rude? You wouldn’t even take a single step in their home. And even if Jimin was right, that they were just happy to meet you—it seemed even worse. Because all you had to show for yourself to Jungkook’s parents then would be…. yourself. 
And what if that wasn’t enough?
You groaned, leaning back again. Everything was making your situation only worse, giving you an even bigger headache, feeding the heavy pit in your stomach. And as you spiraled, you didn’t notice the rather obvious text Chaeyoung send, or the even more obvious way Jimin’s phone lit up on the table to display it, just for him to quickly grab it and start typing. Jisoo leaned over to look, and Chaeyoung quickly mumbled something into Hoseok’s ear. You wouldn’t even notice the way Chaeyoung jumped when you spoke suddenly again,
“Let’s just finish eating and go home. I wanna go home.” 
No one protested.
By the end, the fries were gone and the grease had eaten through the recycled brown paper plates, and your mood wasn’t much better, still the same level of annoyance always buzzing in the back of your mind. Grabbing the bags from the various shops you had walked in and out of with your friends today, you made your way out of the mall. Stepping outside, you hugged yourself, the wind harsher than the past few days. 
“What way is your car again?” you asked, teeth gritting. Your question was aimed at Chaeyoung, but you didn’t have the nerve to look at her. With the tip of your boot, you scraped against the concret, enjoying the way it rolled back and forth. You lifted your head when no one would answer, confused by the silence.
“Oh, uh,” Chaeyoung began, glancing at Jimin who was typing away on his phone. “Give us… a minute.”
She said it as if it was a question, gesturing for you to wait. You looked over to Jisoo and Hoseok for some sort of explanation, but they both kept their mouths shut.
“Where’s your girlfriend’s car?”
Hoseok blushed, and you knew he still wasn’t used to the development of his and Chaeyoung’s relationship. It was cute, and it did make you smile a little.
“Just tell me.” 
You tried nice. Nice didn’t work.
“I-I don’t know.” 
You sighed, your hands on your hips, shopping bags knocking on your legs. The cold wavered your voice.
“Ji?”
But rather than even say anything, or make an attempt to stall you, she waved you off, flicking her wrist back and forth. At least, Hoseok and Chaeyoung tried to dismiss you subtly.
“Oh my God, what are you guys looking at? Can we just go home, I’m really cold here and I just wanna-”
“Ah, yes, he’s here!” Jimin exclaimed before slapping his hand over his mouth, eyes wide. “Oops.”
You stopped, not needing a second to understand. Jisoo punched his arm. 
“You texted Jeon?”
If you were upset and annoyed before, you were even more so now. You leaned forward, as if the reality weighed down on you and physically pushed you. Your eyes darted back and forth between your friends before ultimately landing on Jimin, who was shrinking in on himself.
“Are you guys for real?” you hissed, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. You could have ripped out your hair. “But why?”
Everyone looked to Chaeyoung. “We- we think it’d be good if you talk to him. You’re clearly stressed about meeting his parents, so why not talk about it?”
She added on a smile, and you closed your eyes, groaning. 
“Guys, I’m fine.” You dug your hands through your hair, looking over your shoulder, relieved to see that he was nowhere. “Where is he? Is he here already? Tell him to go home. He has a paper to-”
An arm wrapped around your shoulder, and you didn’t need to look to know who it was.
“Go home.”
“Damn, hi, it’s nice to see you too, cabbage,” Jungkook laughed, grinning at you even as you frowned at him. He pinched your nose, and you didn’t even have it in you to swat his hand aside, closing your eyes instead. 
“You guys weren’t kidding. She’s in a bad mood.”
Your frown deepened, mouth setting into a thin line. Jungkook squeezed your shoulder, quietly apologising to you for his comment, but his smile remained on his lips. 
“Alright, I think—” Chaeyoung hooked her arm into Hoseok’s. “—it’s time to go.”
“Yeah, don’t worry, I’ll take her home,” Jungkook said, nodding to confirm his own words. “Get home safe.”
“Great, text us when you get home,” Jisoo said, waving at you. “We love you, Y/N! And oh, nice scarf!”
Jungkook laughed, thanking her.
“Yeah, good luck, Kook! Also love ya, Y/N!” Jimin laughed before taking off, sprinting ahead, scared you might just throw one of your bags after him. (Which you were strongly considering) The others waved you goodbye, and even though you were more than ticked off, you did the same, mumbling a goodbye their way. God knows they had put up with your attitude with enough grace today already. You sighed once they left your sight, shrugging off Jungkook.
You looked at him and your gaze softened, if only a little. Even more so when you saw it, wrapped around his neck so prettily. There was something very messy about him today—his hair not done in its usual way, hanging into his eyes, getting longer each time you saw him, the collar of his coat not folded down properly. If you had to guess, he had walked out the moment he got the text from Jimin. But he had thought of your scarf, looped it around his neck carefully. Looking at him now, out in the cold, you were glad you had invested the time into learning how to knit. The scarf suited him, the red matching him well. You were almost tempted to knit another one, one in every colour.
“You’re wearing the scarf.”
“Of course,” he returned, smiling at you, and you wondered if his cheeks hurt, red from the cold. 
The thought embarrassed you. You looked down, returning to rolling the tip of your boot on the conrete, back and forth, back and forth.
“Go home.”
“Okay, yeah, let’s go home together.”
He reached to take the bags from you, but you pulled away, lifting your head. “No, Jeon, go home. I’m fine.”
Jungkook shoved his hands into his pockets, shaking his head. This wasn’t going to be easy, he realised. “And how will you get home?”
His question made you frown, as if that was the issue at hand right now. You almost scoffed.
“I’ll walk-”
“Right, because walking in the cold is such a good idea, hm?
“Fine, I’ll take the bus.”
“Do you even know where the next bus station is?” 
“I can look it up.”
“Or you can just, you know,“ he leaned towards you, and you couldn’t back off, “not be so stubborn and let me just give you a ride home.”
You pursed your lips, shaking your head. Why was he being oh so frustrating? Why couldn’t he make this easy for you? Why wasn’t he at all discouraged by your behaviour? It didn’t make any sense to you. He should be annoyed with you and your attitude, infuriated because you were being difficult for no real reason. And yet, he smiled and laughed at you, showed you patience. It was strange to you, unexpected.
“I never asked you to pick me up.” 
It was like you were a goddamn teenager, fighting with her parents, trying your very best to tick them off. It was like you wanted him to be mad at you, and in some ways, in some real ways, maybe you did. You felt sorry for your friends about your attitude, but not with Jungkook somehow. For some reason, you couldn’t extend the same empathy to him. At least not in this moment.
He didn’t say anything, hesitated, his brows creasing together. His eyes darted to the ground before ultimately finding you again, tongue in his cheek, nodding. For a moment, you thought you won, did it. 
“Yeah, you didn’t,” Jungkook said, taking one two three steps in your direction, slowly prying the shopping bags from you. “But I’m still here to pick you up.”
And when he met you with a smile, you knew there wasn’t anything you could do. You let your head hang, as tears shot into your eyes. It had never happened before, you were never one quick to cry, but right now you felt like it. You blinked them away, not allowing Jungkook to know.
He took your silence as a sign of defeat, which it was. Very much so. He had won, and you had to admit that you were actually relieved. That he had proven you wrong, that he hadn’t just left after you had repeatedly insisted he should, or gotten annoyed and sick with you. 
Jungkook shifted all of the shopping bags into one hand, using his free one to grab yours. Like he would, of course he would, he placed a kiss on the back of your hand before putting your hands into his coat pocket to keep warm, together. You could have begun crying again.
“Be a good girlfriend, alright?” he told you, leading you to his car, and you scoffed, hoping your voice didn’t sound as unstable and shaky as you felt.
“Be a good girlfriend?” you repeated, raising a brow. Jungkook was quick to see his mistake and correct himself,
“I mean, let me be a good boyfriend to my girlfriend and pick her up after a—” He hesitated, squinting as if he was searching for the right word. “—fun, right?”
There was something inherently cheeky and smug about Jungkook. But you couldn’t quite take offence to any of it, nodding, even if you knew that today wasn’t the funnest day. (And you were to blame.)
“Fun day at the mall with her friends.”
You pressed your lips together. “But what about your paper?”
He paused and looked at you before shaking his head and laughing. “Oh, don’t worry about it. I’m almost done. I’ll finish it at your place.”
His hand squeezed yours, and you hated how warm he made you feel. How the warmth spread from your chest to the the tips of your ears and feet. How even if you tried, he remained patient with you. You hated it because it made it so much harder, for you not to fall for him again and again. You hated it because you almost believed him that you could be one of those stupidly in love couples that held hands in their pockets and made each other scarfs.
Jungkook opened the car door for you, and you climbed inside, thankful for the few seconds you had to yourself as he loaded your shopping bag into the trunk. Without a word, he gave you his phone, and by now, you knew the drill. 
You unlocked his phone in second before quickly typing in your current location into Google maps. Your address popped up at the top, bookmarked, when you tapped to enter the destination. Handing him his phone back, you wondered what Jungkook’s password meant, 09052020. It seemed so oddly specific, but you didn’t bother asking.
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“You should show me what you got.”
The water remained in your mouth a second longer before you swallowed it, slowly screwing the top back on the bottle, eyes set on Jungkook. You shook your head and leaned against your kitchen counter. He was just a few steps away from you, sitting on your couch, taking up all the space, arms spread left and right. 
“Yeah, I don’t think so.”
He gave you a look, as if to say oh please! His head rolled back for a second.
“I think you should.”
You didn’t respond, pulling your phone out of your pocket instead. Deeming your silence as enough of an answer, you scrolled through your phone, opening the group chat between your friends and you, your feet crossing at your ankle. But before you could even read one text-
“But isn’t that why you were in a bad mood?”
It seemed brave of Jungkook to address it so openly. Or maybe just incredibly honest. You couldn’t do it. He didn’t seem afraid at all that you might just dip back into your bad mood at the mention of it and come out bats swinging. It was admirable in some ways. You didn’t rememeber him to be this confrontative a few months ago when you started this, him and you. He seemed to have found a confidence with you now, convinced he knew the ins and outs of you. Maybe he did. He probably did, in some ways. You couldn’t say if you liked it all that much.
You snorted, an attempt to make light of the situation. “Yeah, so why bring it up again?”
Jungkook reached his hands out to you, a gesture for you to come his way. You thought about it for a moment before abandoning both your phone and the water bottle on the kitchen counter and moving over. He scooted to the edge of your couch to allow you to step between his legs. His hands held yours, thumbs brushing the inner part of your wrist, back and forth.
“My parents don’t care,” he told you, staring up at you with his big eyes, squeezing your hands as he spoke, physically stressing his words. “They really don’t care, I promise you. They’re just excited to meet you. And so am I, excited.”
He paused, allowing his words to sink in with you and take effect. 
“But I know you care and you’re stressed about it,” Jungkook mumbled, and you couldn’t look at him, eyes finding the floor instead, right where your carpet curled up because sometimes your couch would dig into it and flip it up. It was so very embarrassing that he knew how much you cared. It felt like you were ripping out your heart and letting him inspect it. You wanted to correct him, set the record straight that really, you didn’t care at all whatsoever! but it felt like a cheap attempt, even more humiliating.
“So why don’t you show me?” he asked, shaking your hands to get you to look at him. You didn’t want to but did anyway. His gaze was soft, just like his smile, and his hair fell into his eyes. You brushed it away. It made his smile widen, so much so he brought your hand to his lips and kissed it.
It was sealed for you then.
“Alright, fine,” you sighed, defeated, moving away from him to dig through your shopping bags. “Look away.”
“What? Why?”
“What do you mean?” you frowned. “I’m changing.”
Jungkook’s features morphed from a frown to a smile in a second before he ultimately began laughing. “Are you really gonna be too embarrassed to change in front of me?” He gave you a moment to deny it. “I’ve seen and touched-”
“Oh my God, just turn around,” you hissed, and for some reason, your cheeks were as hot as the sun. “Either that, or I won’t try on anything.”
He exhaled the most dramatic sigh he could, making a point to show you that he even pressed his hands to his eyes. Just for that, you wanted to kick him. But you should have known that Jungkook wasn’t quite done, needing to squeeze in one more comment, purely to annoy you and nothing more. There wasn’t anything serious about it at all, no deeper meaning.
“Are you gonna be like this when we’re married with kids?”
You froze, arms up and your face mushed together by your sweater and half of your body exposed to the naked air with only your bra to show for. He wasn’t serious, you knew. There was lightness and an obvious teasing embedded with his words. You doubted Jungkook even expected a response from you, probably just enjoyed knowing he made you flustered even if he couldn’t see it. And yet, your heart began pounding and your hands sweating and your cheeks burning and your mind reeling for any possible retort you could offer. Before you could stutter something, he spoke again,
“Sorry.”
The smile was evident in his voice, and when you finally peeled off your sweater, you turned out to be right. You shook your head, throwing your sweater at him before you could think better of it. It hit him in the face.
“Ow, cabbage! That’s not fair, I have my eyes-” 
“I’m so close to kicking you out, you know?” you mumbled, keeping your voice quiet as if raising it by any means was dangerous. You pulled off your pants and your stockings you had layered underneath for some extra warmth.
“I said I’m sorry, cabbage.” 
But Jungkook sounded far from sincere. You didn’t bother responding, grabbing one of the shopping bags and slipping on the sweater you had thrifted. It was off the shoulders and this warm midnight blue colour, rich and beautiful and cozy. You moved to your old dresser and pulled out the black maxi skirt you had thought to combine it with. The outfit was simple, but with the right accesoires (ones you would still have to buy which the thought of it already gave you a headache), it could work. At least, it could in theory because when you looked at yourself in your full body mirror (which you had thrifted when you had first moved in), you frowned.
“Can I look?”
You gave a grunt in response, still looking at your reflection as if you had put together the most hideous outfit possible. It wasn’t much of a yes or no, so for a few seconds Jungkook hesitated, but he slowly peeled his eyes open.
“Oh, cabbage! You look so amazing-”
“No.”
It was as simple as that for you, shaking your head.
“What? But you look-”
“I don’t like it,” you said, already moving to take off the skirt. “Close your eyes.”
You expected some sort of protest from Jungkook, but he actually did as you said. Just as quick as you had decided that the outfit wouldn’t work, you peeled it off of you. You rummaged through your next shopping bags, looking at the pieces you had gotten—a cream knit sweater and white maxi skirt. But all of a sudden, you hated it. You clearly remembered loving the clothes in the store, giving the outfit a couple spins and scrutiniscing it from head to toe until it was deemed worthy of your money. But right now as you looked at it, you felt quite the opposite.
With a sigh, you pulled the last shopping bag towards you. It had the dress your friends had mentioned you should wear. This time, you didn’t inspect it any further, not having the nerve for it. So you just bunched up the fabric and slipped it on. But you didn’t tell Jungkook you were finished changing. Instead you turned and looked at yourself in the mirror first.
Jisoo had found it for you—a maxi slip dress. It was in a beautiful and rich wine red colour, oozing warmth, and soft to the touch. The satin flowed down your body, hugging your curves, and reflecting your dim living room lights like water. Lace was stitched along the neckline, which otherwise probably would have been a little too low given the occasion. The straps securing the dress were tied up into small ribbons around your shoulders, giving it a more dainty and playful look. The slit on the left side reached up until your knee, allowing the fabric to move along with your body in harmony. It was a beautiful dress, made for any occasion with the correct accessoires and styling. 
You were objectively and undeniably beautiful in it. 
And yet, you stared at yourself as if it wasn’t, brows knitted together and lips pursed in a pout, eyes wandering up and down. It wasn’t insecurity—you felt great and comfortable in the dress. But something about it just wasn’t right. You tried imaging yourself all dolled up in it, hair and makeup done to your liking, but the frown remained. It wasn’t perfect enough.
You shook your head, moving to take it off. When you turned on your heel, you looked straight at Jungkook, and Jungkook looked straight at you. His eyes were big and wide and set on you, his mouth agape and curling up into a smile. You gasped, both in surprise and upset.
“W-why are you looking?” you hissed, feeling the heat crawl up your neck, and you threw your arms around yourself.
“I’m sorry. You- you just took so long, cabbage. And so I looked and…” Jungkook finished his sentence with a simple shrug and smile. You frowned at his answer, shaking your head.
“Close your eyes,” you spat through gritted teeth, turning around to change out of the dress. “I’m changing-”
“What? Why?” Jungkook sounded genuinely confused, jumping up from his seat and moving your way, shaking his head. “You look amazing! Please don’t change. I love this dress on you!”
He stopped short in front of you, turning you around and taking your hands into his. 
“This dress suits you so well,” he whispered as if it was some sort of secret. You looked to the mirror behind you, inspected yourself, eyes shooting up and down. Jungkook stepped behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, his fingers interlacing in front of the soft of your belly. He pushed you to lean fully against him, his eyes scanning every inch of you.
“You’re so pretty. So very pretty.” 
His words tasted like Christmas chocolate, were thick with honey and sugar, stuck to your teeth. They were bad. Horrible. For you and your heart. Because they sounded so very believable. 
“You look incredible.”
He finished with a kiss to the back of your head, and you didn’t know where to look. You placed your hands on his, tentatively, and he was quick to take them into his, scoop them up and hold them tight. He had to know, you thought to yourself, how hard your heart was beating.
“Don’t you like it?”
You met his gaze in the mirror, mouth settled into a line. 
“I like the dress,” you said, tilting your head. 
“But?”
“I don’t like it for…”
“Meeting my parents?” Jungkook supplied when you wouldn’t finish your sentence, and you didn’t answer, averting your gaze instead. “What do you not like about it?”
You closed your eyes, feeling so very silly. Because you couldn’t say. You didn’t know. There shouldn’t be anything to dislike about the dress, nothing about it was wrong—you loved every little detail, and even more how you felt in it.
“What do you think?” 
“I don’t think my opinion really matters here,” Jungkook laughed, and you peeled your eyes open, a smile tugging on the corners of your lips. He was annoying. Just couldn’t provide you with a simple answer when he even has already voiced his thoughts. “But I think you look really pretty in this dress.”
You scrunched your nose. “How pretty?”
“So pretty I wouldn’t mind going blind now.”
You smiled, no, grinned. He was so stupid.
“So pretty I can’t believe you don’t like it.” 
You tilted your head to the side.
“So pretty I don’t want you to ever take it off again.” 
He pressed kisses to your neck and shoulder, nose burying into your hair, words mumbled into your skin, and hands beginning to wander further south, scrunching the fabric. You let him.
”So pretty I want to take a picture of you and print it out and hang it up above my bed and also keep another one in my wallet and change my background picture to-”
“O-okay, enough!” you said, pushing him away from you because your limbs were beginning to tingle and burn, and his touch was sending shocks through your entire body. Even more so, his hands were beginning to go to places he shouldn’t, not right now at least. You made sure to keep him at an arm’s length, palm pressing into his chest, in fear he’d simply close the distance if you didn’t physically stop him.
“You’re so ridiculous, Jeon,” you said, shaking your head, laughing a little. “You can never be serious, can you?”
“But I am! I’m very serious! Looking at you makes me wanna-”
You were quick to shake your head, hands pressing to your ears because no no no, you didn’t want to know! All while you were smiling, grinning almost. Without realising it, Jungkook had done the impossible—lifted your mood, made you laugh when you felt irritated and annoyed by everything before. 
“Fine, I won’t tell you!” Jungkook sighed, dramatically rolling his eyes. You looked at him, lowering your hands, your smile cemented on your lips.
“You’re so stupid, Jeon,” you mumbled, scrunching your nose, and he gasped in faux upset.
“That’s so mean, cabbage!”
“Oh, just shut up.”
Jungkook slung his arms around your middle, doing so before you could even think to stop him. His chin dropped to your shoulder, hands scopping up yours again and eyes meeting in the mirror.
“So, what do we think?”
You raised a brow. “Now, it’s we? I thought your thoughts didn’t matter-”
He sighed, closing his eyes for a second. “Fine, what do you think?”
And you inspected yourself again, gaze wandering up and down. You didn’t know what it was, but the dress seemed different now. It was still the same fabric, same cut, nothing had changed, but you remembered why you had bought the dress, why you had taken Jisoo up on her offer to try it on when she had shown it to you. Because it was beautiful, even more so with you in it.
“Is this the dress?” Jungkook whispered into your ear, and you knew he was hoping for a yes. 
You tilted your head to the side, heart beating faster when you opened your mouth. Because yes, it was. The dress, choosing it, it was another step closer to meeting Jungkook’s parents, another hurdle out of the way. Your eyes met his in the mirror, his face so close to yours. The two of you standing there together, you almost could convince yourself you were an actual couple.
“Yeah, it is.”
He beamed, tightening his arms around you, letting out a small sigh of relief. “Okay, good, I’m glad.”
You lowered your gaze, and you wondered if he maybe feared you wouldn’t go because you couldn’t find anything to wear. If maybe that was the reason for why he came so quickly because he didn’t want you to use that excuse. Because otherwise he would have to explain to his precious and perfect parents why his girlfriend refused to meet them-
“How does the 22nd sound to you by the way?” Jungkook asked, pulling you out of your trains of thoughts, almost as if he knew. He mumbled the words into your skin, and you felt every move of his lips. “To meet my parents, I mean.”
Just eight days.
“Y-yeah, that… should work,” you returned, breathless and high pitched, eyes finding the floor. He stared at you in the reflection, nudging you to do the same. You hesitated, but did as he said, breath hitching in your throat when you saw the way he was looking at you, oh so sincere and genuine.
“It’s gonna be fine.”
There was something assuring about the way he said it. If anyone elses told you these words, it would do you no good, bring you no relief. But when he did, it did. It was silly really.
“I promise you.”
“Yeah, really, Jeon?” you laughed shallowly, tucking a strand behind your ear and swallowing. “You promise me?”
And as if looking at your mere reflection just wasn’t enough for him, Jungkook turned you around by your hips, forcing your eyes to meet his. 
“I promises you, cabbage. I won’t leave you for one second, alright? Hell, I will drive you there and home again, okay? I’ll be there with you for every second of the day, from the moment you wake up to the moment you go back to bed, glued to your side, so much so you’ll be so annoyed by me that you’ll want me gone. You won’t even go the bathroom on your own, okay?” He paused for a second, scrunching his nose. “I’ll make sure you will have the most non awkward but perfect and fun evening possible.”
His phrasing made you laugh, ebbed the waves of anxiety crashing onto your mind over and over again when you thought a little too much about the next week. His parents, him and you, in one room. 
“It’s gonna be great.”
Jungkook smiled at you, a little too bright and too wide. You returned it to the best of your abilities, letting him pull you back into a hug, eyes falling shut.
“Okay, I believe you,” you told him, hearing his heart beating in his chest. “For once.”
He tightened his arms around you.
(“Do you think it will have snowed by then?” he asked you when the intro to the new episode of Avatar began playing on his laptop. You looked up, eyes catching his, your head rested against his chest and his arms around you.
“What?”
“By the 22nd I mean. Do you think it will have snowed by then?”
You frowned, thinking of the last few winters. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
He thought about your answer for a few more seconds, looking off to the side before returning your gaze. “I hope. I’d like to spend a proper white Christmas with you.”
“Pray to the Gods then,” you said. “Chances aren’t so good.”
The past few years it had always only snowed in January.
“Oh, I do, every day,” Jungkook laughed, and you hummed, focusing back on the episode and missing the way his gaze softened at your sight.)
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“Okay, so I’ll be back right before New Year,” Chaeyoung said, giving her calendar one last look before snapping it close again. “Who of us is gonna be here?”
Hoseok and you both let out affirmative noises, and Jimin raised his hand in a yes as well, mouth stuffed with his sandwich. You scooted closer to the table to let a guy squeeze through as he made his way to the lunch table with his friends, a tray full of bland and dry cafeteria food.
“I’m not sure yet,” Jisoo said, taking a handful of grapes from her purple grape shaped lunch box and plopping each one into her mouth. “My sister asked if I wanted to celebrate New Year’s with her. But maybe she’ll go over to her girlfriend’s. She isn’t sure yet. I’ll text you guys?”
“I’ll be here the entire holidays,” Namjoon sighed. “I still have finals.”
“Ah, I’m sorry,” you said, offering him a smile. He waved you off, mumbling something about how at least he was almost finished up with it all. 
“Well, at least we will be spending New Year’s together, right?” Jimin said with a smile.
You took a sip from your green tea, needing warmth because your University never turned on the heaters, preferring their students to freeze. Where did your tuition money go? 
“Okay, but how about Christmas eve for everyone else? When are you guys heading back home again?” Hoseok asked, shovelling his protein oatmeal into his mouth. “You’re going tonight, right, Ji? With Jennie?”
“Yeah, our train’s booked for 8 pm.”
“I’ll go on the 23rd,” Jimin said, and Chaeyoung echoed the same. 
“You’re going tomorrow, right?” she asked Hoseok, and he nodded. “When are you meeting Kook’s parents again, Y/N? The 22nd?”
“Yeah.” You played with the lip of your paper cup, feeling the warmth of your tea. Your heart grew a little heavier, scared one of them would ask when you’d go meet your parents. Because you weren’t, at least not on Christmas eve. Both of them had to work, unable to take a day off. It was an irrational fear, you were aware. Because your friends knew that very well. They’d never ask, but your heart didn’t understand.
“That’s- oh my God, that’s in four days, huh?” Jisoo gasped, and the horror and terror gripping you must have reflected on your face because she was quick to interject. “Oh, sorry. No, it’s gonna be great, Y/N. I don’t know why I said that. That was stupid.”
“You’re still anxious about it, huh?” Hoseok mumbled, and though he worded it like a question, all of you knew the answer.
“Hard not to be,” you said, voice a little short and curt. “It comes in… waves.”
Namjoon patted your shoulder. “It’s gonna be fine.”
Chaeyoung reached for your hand, squeezing it. “Yeah, I’m sure. We’re all gonna be there for you if it does somehow go wrong—which I highly, highly doubt might I add.”
“Well, not Jisoo. She’s gonna be home, busy showing off her Jennie,” you joked, trying to make light of the situation but it sounded just slightly off.
“What? I can’t be there for you from home?” Jisoo gasped, and before you could question how she’d do that, she continued. “I’m there for you too, telepathically! Jennie too! In your heart! Always! Over the phone! Don’t doubt us!”
You laughed a little, mouthing an apology.
“But you definitely won’t need us,” Jimin said. “Because it’s gonna be fine. Especially because Kook’s gonna make sure of it, okay?”
Before you could return something, your eyes were drawn to the doors.
Oh.
Your friends followed your gaze.
Jungkook had his backpack strapped to his shoulder and the red scarf wrapped around his neck. It shouldn’t be possible. You were technically too far for you to properly see, but you saw it—the tension in his shoulders, the strain in his nape, the deep knit between his brows. He was…. annoyed. It was new to you. For a moment, you almost expected to find Narae walking behind him, bugging him, hot on his trail. It would explain it to you, and you would just simply walk over there and pull him to your table. Just like that, you would ease the knit between your brows, take the tension out of his shoulders and neck-
But it wasn’t Narae. 
It was Taehyung. 
He said something to Jungkook that made him roll his eyes. Jungkook didn’t seem to want to respond, shaking his head and waving his hand around, an attempt to end the conversation. But Taehyung wasn’t so kind, going on, even taking hold of his shoulder.
“Someone is in a mood,” Namjoon mumbled, cringing.
“What are they talking about, Y/N?” Jimin asked, looking at you, and you stared right back at him, frowning.
“How would I know?”
“You’re his girlfriend.”
“So?”
“Go find out.”
“What? I just walk up to them and say,” you raised your voice a few pitches, “‘Oh my God, hi, you guys are clearly fighting. Care to share?’ Is that what you want?”
Jimin blinked, shrugging. “Sure, that would work.”
“You’re so ridiculous, Jimin,” you hissed, touching a hand to your forehead. “That wouldn’t work.”
“Of course, it would. Kook’s absolutely obsessed-”
“Oh my God, shut up,” Chaeyoung hissed, slapping Jimin. “They’re looking!”
“You guys are always so loud,” Hoseok sighed, and you sent him a glare because no, you don’t! It’s just Jimin!
But they were right. Taehyung and Jungkook were both looking at you, their conversation having come to an end. When you met his gaze, Jungkook’s face contorted into something else, features twitching. You couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but it wasn’t the usual. He didn’t soften in the way you were used to when he would see you. And when you tried a smile, Jungkook struggled to return it. You felt shot, and your smile faltered.
But Jimin didn’t sense it at all, wildly waving his hand around, gesturing for the two to come this way. And as if it wasn’t more obvious, he yelled it too, “Hey, Tae and Kook! Come join us!”
Jisoo sighed, “He’s such an idiot.”
Chaeyoung and Hoseok shrugged, as if to say well, it’s Jimin. They were right, it was just Jimin being himself, unaware and impulsive. Namjoon didn’t have any words, shaking his head. 
Jungkook and Taehyung looked at each other, exchanging a few words before the latter glanced at his watch and shook his head. He had to go. Taehyung placed his hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, whispering something into his ear. You must have imagined it but it looked like he glanced in your direction. But before you could think about it, Taehyung headed in the same direction he had previously come from, and Jungkook slowly made his way over, not meeting your eyes once.
“What were you arguing about?” Jimin asked when Jungkook stood in front of you, and you watched him grip the strap of his backpack, the skin over his knuckles stretching thin.
“Jimin!” Jisoo hissed, punching him. 
“Ow!”
“Right, yeah, of course, you’d ask,” he smiled. “It’s fine.”
Jungkook said it with a laugh, but it was all wrong. 
“We weren’t arguing.” 
And as if it wasn’t enough, Jungkook put on his brightest and biggest smile. He showed it to everyone. Like a stone plunged into the deep sea, your heart sank. You had seen it before, that smile. It had decorated his lips during the Halloween party when you first walked in, or when you had first hurt his feelings while you had gone costume shopping. 
Namjoon and you looked at each other shortly, both of you sensing it. 
“Is everything-”
“Well, it looked like you were,” Jimin mumbled, accidentally interrupting Namjoon. He waited for Jungkook to budge and cave under his gaze, but when he wouldn’t, he shrugged. “Come sit.”
Maybe he could feel your burning gaze on him, but Jungkook finally glanced in your direction. If only for a second, so very brief. But it dug into your heart and split it open, gutted you and left you utterly empty. You had seen him just yesterday, picked out your dress together, parted ways this morning a few hours ago, and now he seemed like another person. He looked so sad, sad in a way you hadn’t seen before. You didn’t think that any emotion close to that had ever crossed his features, not in your presence at least. It was so new and surprising to you—because somehow in your mind, you had forgotten he had the ability to feel… upset—you froze.
“I’m sorry, I have to go,” Jungkook said, nailing that same smile back onto his lips as before. “But I’ll see you guys around.”
And before any of you could protest, he was gone, back turned to your table and heading into the crowd. 
“Well, that was… weird,” Chaeyoung said, pointing out the elephant in the room. And as if she had said your name, everyone turned to you for some kind of answer.
You blinked back at them. “Yeah, I-I don’t know.”
There was another beat of silence before ultimately your friends shrugged.
“Maybe it’s just not a good day?” Hoseok proposed, and they were all quick to agree, moving on. And though you didn’t voice it, you knew it wasn’t that. It couldn’t just be that. 
You knew it was about you. It had to be. Taehyung had glanced at your direction. You hadn’t imagined it, that much you were sure of. And the fact Jungkook hadn’t been able to look at you cemented it for you. Your heart quickened, a certain question coming to the front of your mind.
What if Jungkook didn’t want you to meet his parents anymore?
Maybe it had finally clicked with him—what it meant if you met his parents. How ridiculous it was. Because you weren’t his girlfriend. It was his parents after all. How stupid all of it was actually. Not just you meeting his parents, but the entire contract you had. How far it had gone, too far.
You pressed your lips together, a knot forming in your throat. Maybe he didn’t know how to tell you now. Maybe you should be prepared for the very worst. Maybe this was it. Impact incoming! The fall was nearing its end, your end.
Your hands began shaking, curling around the edge of the table for stability. Panic built up within you, panic that really shouldn’t build up at all, you knew. Your friends blurred into an incohesive mess in front of you.
Oh God.
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You didn’t see Jungkook for the rest of the day, or the one after that. In fact, you didn’t hear from him at all, until almost two days later. Maybe you should have reached out first—you did think about it. But you simply couldn’t, your hands shaking whenever you’d open your chat with him, your old messages staring back at you almost mockingly. Because what if he told you he wanted to end it? What if this was how it would end because you couldn’t wait and recklessly send a message?
There was a few seconds of silence, the sound of his breathing coming in through unsteadily. You gripped your phone tighter.
“Hey.”
Jungkook still sounded the same, and for some reason, you were surprised. Why you expected him to sound different, you didn’t know. 
“Hi,” you returned, swallowing because it was your voice, in fact, that sounded odd. At least it did to you. You cleared your throat.
Usually, he’d make some joke, ask you about your day, how you were doing, where you were, if you had watched the videos he’d sent you yet, eaten already. Usually, your conversation would be much lighter, easier. Right now, you felt the air hanging between you, pulling your legs closer to your chest as you waited and waited. He had called you, he would have to speak first.
“I’m sorry I didn’t join you guys for lunch the other day,” Jungkook mumbled, and you closed your eyes.
“It’s alright,” you said, a waver to your voice and you couldn’t decide if it was because you felt cold, even though you were tucked into your bed, or because you felt uncertain of it all, like you were standing at the edge of a cliff, the deep sea awaiting you on the other side, waves crashing up on you. 
Neither of you said anything. 
Your throat grew dry, the questions coming back up again within you. Was he going to tell you over the phone? That he didn’t want you to meet his parents anymore. Maybe even that he wanted to call this entire thing off. That he’d realised this wasn’t worth it anymore, doing all of this to win a stupid bet he’d made with Taehyung months ago. It had gotten too exhausting, you had gotten too exhausting for him. Let’s just end it here, tell everyone you’d just fallen out of love. Hell maybe he’d be even willing to tell everyone the truth, how they’d been fooled. It had all been an act! How fun! How could you all think he was in love with-
“Everything’s alright.”
You paused. “What?”
“I-” Jungkook faltered, letting out a laugh. It came through oh so light and clear. Just not quite genuine. Or maybe you were imagining it, your mind dissecting every of his words. “I’m just trying to say- things are alright. It’s gonna be okay.”
And for some reason, you knew the words weren’t meant to reassure you. But him. He needed it right now, more than you. You blinked, nodded as if he could see.
“Yeah, everything’s alright,” you repeated, quietly. “It’s gonna be okay.”
What exactly he referred to, you weren’t sure. And you weren’t going to ask. He’d tell you when he wanted you to know, when he was ready. Truth be told, you weren’t even entirely sure if you were ready for it, couldn’t say either where your confidence that it’d be alright came from. 
“It will, right?” he laughed again, that same laugh. It came through now, the tinge of uncertainty swinging with his voice. 
You added a small smile, reassurance. “Of course, it will. Always has.”
Jungkook waited a beat, thought about it for a second. “Yeah, no, yeah you’re right.”
And then, you both went back to silence again. You were the one to break it, doing so before you could think better of it and retreat. The question slipped so quickly past your lips, came out of you with the answer to it packaged within already. For once, you dared something, held out your heart.
“Do you want to come over?”
The question seemed alright at first. He’d tell you he was already on his way, in fact. Had you not heard the engine this entire time? Actually, look outside! How silly of you, he had gotten you again. You’d laugh, buzz him up while telling him how annoying he was. He’d fall into your arms, coat and scarf and shoes still on. There’d be no time for you to tell him to at least take off his shoes because he’d knock you over with his entire weight. But you’d hold him up, if not barely and struggling heavily. You’d do it, and you’d do it with a smile. He’d press a kiss to your lips and ask you again if things would just be fine. And you’d do the same as you did on the phone, like a good girlfriend does, you’d reassure him over and over again until you’d be too tired and fall asleep together. Things would truly be alright, you’d meet his parents and maybe resolve it all. Maybe he and you could be something, more. Maybe he meant it, all of it, the gestures and words and kisses. He and you, together, it could be possible-
“I’m sorry—” You wanted him to stop then. He didn’t need to elaborate. It was enough. You bit down on your tongue, hard. “I’m… just really tired today.”
Jungkook hesitated, spoke slowly, and you wanted to laugh it off, tell him it was alright and to go to sleep, but your throat knotted into a terrible mess. 
He didn’t want you to meet his parents.
“Hm.”
It was the only response you could offer. Because if you spoke, he would know, and he couldn’t know—the tears that shot into your eyes.
You pressed your hand to your mouth, and wondered if your reassurance had done anything at all. If not actually you had needed it, even more than he did. 
“I think- classes was exhausting, so yeah. You know, right? So I’m gonna go to bed now,” Jungkook said, and you nodded, as if he could see you, and if you checked, you’d realise it was just eight. You bit your tongue harder.
He never liked you.
“Okay,” you squeaked out, your voice a few pitches too high. He had to know, you were sure of it. Anyone would know, even a drunk Jimin could figure it out. It was blatantly obvious, and you pressed your hand harder against your mouth, scared as you awaited what he’d say. You wouldn’t know how to answer his questions if he asked you why you cried. It would be utterly humiliating to admit why—that you knew you never meant anything to him beyond what you’d agreed upon, but that he did to you. So much, in fact. 
“Goodnight-”
You ended the call, your phone displayed his name for a few more seconds before you tossed it aside, uncaring that it bounced off your bed and you’d have to look for it later on the floor. A part of you wanted to laugh, outright laugh out loud, laugh so loud because maybe it would drown it out. Because were you not just silly? Stupid? Even more so for the tears that rolled down your face and stained your duvet three shades darker. Clear evidence of your silliness, your delusion, your unwavering and foolish hope. 
It embarrassed and humiliated you, how quickly the tears came, how his words had crashed onto you, ship-wrecked you, buried you under. His words hurt, and his dismissal even more. Two words had been enough, had pierced your heart and left you tiptoeing a cliff. Jungkook had more power than you thought he did, power he shouldn’t be holding over your head and heart to begin with. Power he shouldn’t have because you didn’t have it over him.
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A text awaited you one morning, just a day before the 22nd.
[Jeon - 07:01 AM] : can i come over later tonight?
And a text was all it took.
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Jungkook was not even a second late. Someone was in a hurry to get this over with, it almost made you laugh. Your doorbell rang the moment the clock turned seven. Still, you shrieked, hesitated, stared at your front door like you hadn’t known he’d come, like you hadn’t expected him to come.
You busied yourself with your phone, swiping back and forth, as he climbed up the stairs, your back turned to the door. You just couldn’t watch as he stepped inside. This was it. He’d tell you that he’d realised this had gotten too far, out of hand. You wouldn’t have to meet his parents tomorrow, you had done your part. He’d thank you, assure you he’d break the news to your friends and take the blame. It’d be alright, you wouldn’t have to do anything. And just like before you had ever talked to Jungkook at the vending machine, you’d go your own ways. 
His steps grew louder, echoed less and less until he was inside. A draft pulled through your small flat as he shut the door behind you, quiet but final. You shivered and turned off your phone, heart heavy in your chest as you prepared yourself to turn around and face him. You had thought about it all day, agonised how it’d be like to see him again the past week, how you’d handle this, how you could retain just a bit of your pride at the end of this. The scenario played over and over again in your mind—you’d look at him with a smile, tell him you understood perfectly and he didn’t need to explain. It had been stupid anyway, fun but stupid. Both of you knew this wasn’t anything really, it would come to an end. You didn’t mind it at all. 
“You know, it’s alright, Jeon. I know what you wanna-”
Jungkook wrapped his arms around you with his coat and scarf and shoes on. He pressed you to his chest, held you even tighter when you hesitated to return his hug, as if he needed to physically feel you, be sure you were there.
You hadn’t seen him all week, and all of a sudden, you didn’t know what to do around him anymore.
“Jeon?” 
“Can you hug me?” he asked you, voice barely above a whisper, and though you had been so sure about what would happen just seconds ago, pictured how your conversation would go, you realised you knew nothing at all. You did as he said, putting your arms around his middle and squeezing as tightly as you could, holding your breath even.
You didn’t know how long you stayed like this, but when you pulled away, Jungkook looked at you in a way you had never seen. He took your hands into his.
“I’m sorry, cabbage,” he began, and in the dim light, you could see his eyes glaze over. “I don’t know what’s been going on with me for the past week.”
He paused, breathed in deeply, looked to the side before returning his gaze to you. 
“I think- there’s just been a lot on my mind, and I had to figure it out first, I think,” he continued. “I-I don’t think I fully have, but I will, soon.”
You looked at him, silent for a few seconds before you nodded, brushing your thumbs over the inside of his wrists.
“That’s okay,” you told him, giving him a smile. “It’s fine. I understand.”
Truth be told, you didn’t know where you took your words from, where you dug up that reassurance again. Because you’d felt the opposite for the past week. It’d been a horrible week for you, sleepless and anxious. 
You’d been tiptoeing a thin line, wondering every second when exactly this would blow over, just how close you were to impact, when your fall would end. Would it be a text? A call? Would he just show up to your doorstep unannounced one evening after you had come back from exhausting classes and do it then? Or would it be Jimin who’d relayed the messages? Would he not tell you at all, deeming not worth the effort even? So, it had been nice to be told the truth—that things had been confusing for Jungkook and he hadn’t figured out how to navigate it all—and yet you weren’t sure if it was enough for you, if it qualmed your worries.
“I’m really sorry, cabbage,” Jungkook repeated, and you wondered what he was so sorry for that he needed to apologise twice. If maybe you were right. Why else would he feel so apologetic? Was the ending coming and he just needed some more time to figure out the order of his words, unable to bring it over his heart? 
You should ask him if the things plaguing his mind was how to end this. You should, really. Regardless of the answer, it would free you, however painful it might just be. You’d find peace. Maybe you feared the pain too much, the tears that would run down your face, the embarrassment that would rip you into pieces, or maybe you didn’t care enough for yourself to find out the truth, but you didn’t ask. 
Your smile grew bigger, and you didn’t know who you were fooling, him or you. “Don’t be. It’s okay, Jeon.”
Jungkook took your face into his hands, staring into your eyes, looking so intensely at you like he’d never before. He was searching something, and you weren’t sure if he found it, if you held whatever he looked for at all.
“It’ll be fine,” you said, and this was for you, not him. 
“It’ll be fine,” he repeated, nodding, and as he leaned closer to you, you wondered if the same would apply tomorrow. When you’d meet his parents, stand in front of them. When they’d scrutinise every little detail about you and come to their conclusion on who you were before you could even open your mouth and utter your name. 
You let Jungkook pull you into a kiss, returned it with the same intensity. Both of you needed it right now. What exactly you offered each other, you couldn’t pinpoint. But it was enough to silence your mind and his too. 
When his hands wandered, so did yours. He pushed you to your bed, and you let your mattress catch your fall. Your sweater landed on your floor, and soon the rest of your clothes followed. His coat and the scarf you had made him found its place at the foot of your bed. He struggled for a bit to kick off his boots before ultimately stumbling out of them.
Jungkook pressed kisses from your lips to your ear down to your neck and collarbone. Slowly, they wandered further down and down, stopping as he paid extra attention to the places he learned you liked, made your back arch in his favourite way and your breath hitch so beautifully in your throat. Soon, you were pleading with the Gods above, curling your hands around your duvet as Jungkook familiarised himself with you again. His hands pried you open, splitting you into two again and again, bringing you high above. You returned the favour, listened as he found religion through you, drawing out his relief until he needed your lips on his instead. By now, you knew him blindly, your hands finding the sensitive parts of him even as he carved his way back to yours.
“I’ve missed you,” Jungkook mumbled into your ear when he began moving, and you smiled, wrapped your arms around him. So had you. 
“Me too,” you returned, your hips finding a steady rhythm together. He pressed kisses to your skin, hands holding you oh so tightly like he usually would. But he hadn’t said it, hadn’t told you for the entire week, not even now when he would on any other day—that he loved you—and so maybe that was why you fell asleep with an uneasy heart. 
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Had he not promised? That he’d be there for every second of the day, from the moment you woke up to the moment you went back to bed, glued to your side until you were sick of him? Was that not what he had said, the words he assured you with? So how was it that you awoke alone, like you had been for the entire past week, without him?
Jungkook wasn’t here, and yet you looked around your home like he could be hidden in some corner. He didn’t like you anymore, you were sure. Why would he? He never did to begin with. Probably regretted this more than anything else, realised just how exhausting it was to be with you. It wouldn’t be worth it. His parents wouldn’t like you, tell him that he could do better. He’d agree- actually he knew that already. Yesterday night had been a mistake, just like all the other times had been. He and you weren’t the same, never could be. Just like two mismatching puzzle pieces, you’d never make a whole picture together. You’d been right, of course. Jungkook could never like you, never saw you as anything more than a paw in this stupid cruel game between Taehyung and you. And you had been played, over and over again. How stupid of you. Foolish! This-
The blaring of your alarm brought you back to reality, the sound filling your ears. You had forgotten to turn it off. You reached for your phone, shutting it off but before you could toss it aside, you saw it. It made you pause, his name atop of your notifications. A voice memo, just over two minutes. Like it had been all you had been looking for, you hurriedly unlocked your phone. You were about to hit start, when you paused, your thumb hovering just above it. Because it could be anything—a simple breakfast run, or a goodbye. A pit grew in your stomach, and you wished he had just left you a clue about what he’d be saying in it. Your chest webbed tightly with anxiety, a rollercoaster in your throat.
You took in a deep breath, bracing yourself, eyes closed as you hit play. Whatever it might be, you’d be fine, somehow, you hoped.
“Hey, I’m so sorry—” Your chest felt so hollow, his voice unsteady. He was running, the wind blowing up the audio. He sounded far away, you had to strain to hear him properly, your phone on maximum volume. “—I know I promised to be there when you’d wake up, but—”
But I just couldn’t do this any longer. I wanted to tell you yesterday, but I just didn’t know how to. I’m sorry.
“—my mom called me. She’s having an emergency with her car, and now she’s stuck in- actually, I don’t know where, but I’m on my way there to jumpstart her car. And I thought about waking you up for it, but that felt mean and you looked so peaceful, I just couldn’t. But- it’s so cold, oh my God. Listen, I don’t know when I’ll be back, but I’m gonna hurry, okay? So just wait for me, alright? I’ll be there, I promise.”
You heard the door of his car open and close. The wind cut out, and all of a sudden it was quiet. There was ruffling, Jungkook took his phone closer to his face. He sighed, and you could see him right in front of your eyes—sitting there in his car, hair a mess on his head, as he closed his eyes to find his words, a knit between his brows.
“I’m really sorry, cabbage,” he began again. “Both for leaving now because I know I had promised I’d be there, and… again for the past week. I know I’ve been shit, and I know you’ve been confused and- I’m sorry. I haven’t been fair at all-”
Neither had you however, you realised as you listened to him talk. Of course, Jungkook had only left because his mother needed his help. How could you assume the worst of him after everything? When he was so good and kind? Had been all this time to you?
“But we will figure this out, okay?”
Jungkook paused again. You pulled your legs to your chest, burying your face into your knees, teeth sinking into your tongue.
“Let’s talk about this after today. But it’s gonna be fine. Like you said it would.”
You had lied.
“What am I talking about?” He let out a small laugh, and you knew he was shaking his head at himself. “It’s already fine.” 
You felt like a traitor. You were terrible.
“I’ll be back to pick you up, okay? So just wait for me. I hope I can get to you by two the latest. I hope it won’t take too long to figure it all out. You know, I actually don’t know how to jumpstart a car, so I really don’t know why my mom called me.”
He laughed again, and you didn’t think you could ever get the sound out of your mind. It was so pretty and melodic, so good and precious. 
“Well, anyway, I gotta get going, but I can’t wait for tonight already. I miss you.”
You missed him too, loved him even. Did he? Could he? Could you?
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It was cowardly of you, hypocritical actually. But you couldn’t do it differently, didn’t have the courage to look at Jungkook and say it. The words wouldn’t leave you, you were certain, if you stood in front of him. He deserved more than a text, but more than that he deserved the truth. And the truth was you couldn’t do this, any of it in fact, not anymore. Couldn’t meet his parents, or even pretend to be his girlfriend any longer, not in good conscience. It had to end.
Your thumbs shook as you slowly found the right letters, strung together the words and sentences. You hit delete every other word, barely getting a paragraph together in almost an hour. Because worst of all, even as you tried to offer some honesty, you knew you couldn’t offer it entirely to him, couldn’t let Jungkook know just how exactly you felt, how deeply you had plunged into love with him. 
I’m sorry, Jeon, but I don’t think I can keep this going any longer. I know I said I’d meet your parents, but I think we’re just going a little too far by doing that. I hope you understand. I know I’m not fulfilling our contract and you’ll lose your bet with Taehyung and I’m really sorry, so I’ll just wire back all the money. I never touched it anyway. 
You were about to finish off the paragraph, deciding that any wishes for your future relationship as friends would be too much to ask for, thumb sliding over the glass, when your phone lit up, buzzing and ringing. And right just then, you accepted the call, your heart dropping in your chest. Your stomach twisted terribly because you couldn’t do this. How could you? Hear his voice, talk to him as if you weren’t just about to call this entire thing off over text? How could you pretend it was all fine when you’d felt gutted for the entire week?
“Hey,” Jungkook greeted you, oh so unaware. You could hear the harsh wind coming through the speaker. “I’m sorry—”
You wished he’d stop apologising. If he just knew what you’d been thinking of him for the past few days, all the assumptions you had made about him and his character, his parents too. 
“—but looks like I won’t make it by two.”
There was a sigh, and you let the silence usher Jungkook to keep on speaking, knowing your voice would merely betray you.
“I tried to jumpstart the car, but yeah, it didn’t work out. We called some people now and seems like we’re gonna have to have the car towed and fixed at the shop.”
The frustration bled through in Jungkook’s voice. It was obvious. He had spent all morning trying desperately to fix his mom’s car in the freezing cold, and now it had come to this.
“We called my dad. He’s on his way here because I still need to go back to my parents and take a shower. It’s gonna take some time—the drive to my parents, the shower and then the drive to your place—so I definitely won’t make it by two. But I should be at your place by three the latest though, I hope that’s fine?”
You closed your eyes, wondered just what exactly you were supposed to say. And so, for a while you didn’t as you gathered yourself.
“Cabbage? Are you there? Can you hear-”
“Y-yeah.” You chewed on your lip, took a few more seconds before speaking. “You… don’t have to come-”
“What? No, I promised you I’d drive you. Let me at least do that,” Jungkook insisted, and you hoped he’d just understand. How direct did you have to be? 
“It’s fine, you don’t have to,” you tried, but to no avail.
He snorted. “Cabbage, I’m driving you. No matter what. My dad’s almost here. You won’t have to wait long. I’ll probably be at your place before three actually. I shower quickly!”
You pressed your hands to your eyes until dark spots appeared, shaking your head. Why couldn’t he just understand? 
A lump knotted your throat shut, your voice wavering as you began speaking, “I-I think we should just-”
“Ah, my dad’s here! I gotta go, cabbage. But please just wait, I’ll be there soon, okay? Can’t wait to see you! It’s gonna be great. You’re gonna charm their asses off, okay?”
And before you could even protest, confess to Jungkook that you couldn’t do any of this, he had hung up. You stared as your phone displayed your lockscreen before ultimately turning black, leaving you with your reflection.
You caught yourself in your mirror, realising how puffy your eyes were. It was blatantly obvious you had cried. You were a mess, in no state to meet anyone’s parents, no less Jungkook’s perfect parents. But now you couldn’t even get yourself out of this anymore, not when you had heard his excitement again. How could you disappoint him? 
Just one more day. You’d do it for one more day, him and you. You’d just get today over with, that much you owed him, and then you’d sit him down to break it all off.
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The dress was still oh so beautiful on you, harmonised perfectly with the white cropped cardigan you had picked out for today because it was, indeed, cold like Jungkook had said it was, and you really didn’t want to freeze. Your hair remained the same as always. You had thought about changing it, but decided in the end that at least your hair should be the way you were used to. Same with your jewellery, the same few pieces you wore every day adorning you today too. You kept the makeup minimal, and still it took you ages to get it done, hands shaky as you carefully drew on eyeliner and curled your lashes. 
Looking at yourself you wondered if it was enough to fool everyone, yourself possibly even that you were perfectly fine, that you fit to Jungkook, that he and you could be something more, that your background was the same as theirs, that you were just another Narae, well-off and well-travelled.
But your doubts and worries had no time to brew, your doorbell announcing Jungkook. Shrugging on your coat and slipping into the pair of black kitten heels you had borrowed from Chaeyoung, you gave yourself one more look in the mirror. You looked beautiful, you knew that. Everything about you looked so close to perfect, and yet, you felt the opposite. Today was the last time for Jungkook and you, and just the thought made you want to cry.
You shook your head, not wanting to keep Jungkook waiting any longer. It was truly cold, and you regretted your choice of shoes the moment you stepped outside, cursing yourself. The wind snaked up your legs. Maybe if you knew that this wasn’t going to be your last day together as a pretend couple, you would have run up and changed. But more than ever before, you wanted to look your best today. Because at the very least, however today might end (badly), you looked good.
Jungkook agreed, face lighting up the moment he laid his eyes on you. You tried your very best to return your smile. He looked oh so good too, wondering if he matched you on purpose. His sweater was the same deep rich red as yours, a white turtleneck layered underneath. He paired it off with some black slacks and black boots, your scarf wrapped tightly around his neck. You couldn’t look at him too long, vision beginning to swim when you did, so you focused on the ground, one step after the other.
“You’re so beautiful,” Jungkook gasped, clutching his chest and pretending to have a heart attack. 
“Thank you,” you said, speaking quietly, afraid your voice was going to betray you. “You too.”
Your compliment made his smile turn into a grin. “Well, you’re prettier.”
Usually, you’d make some snarky comment, fall into the same old banter you’d established with him long ago. Today, you could barely bring yourself to look at him. 
“Let’s-”
Jungkook cupped your face, lifting your eyes to him, forcing you to face him. His gaze turned your insides soft and puddy, hands beginning to shake by your side.
“I’m so happy, cabbage,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your lips. It almost made you cry. You screwed your eyes shut. Before the kiss could go on longer, devastate you more, crush you further, you pulled away.
“I-I’ve got lipgloss on,” you mumbled, giving Jungkook a short smile before stepping aside to walk to his car. He laughed behind you, telling you how he didn’t mind at all, but still, he followed you.
Just as you were about to reach for the car door, he did it for you. Always the gentleman. You paused for a second, surprised (why were you?), before climbing inside, heart heavy as you waited for him to just close the car door. Jungkook didn’t though, drawing your eyes back to him.
“Are you sure about the shoes?” he asked you, brows furrowed together. “It’s cold. You’re not even wearing stockings.”
You felt even more self-conscious all of a sudden, tucking your feet underneath the seat, cheeks warming and heart thrumming. These shoes were the only ones that fit with your outfit. You didn’t have an extensive shoe collection, anything you could change into now wouldn’t match. It’d be a waste not to wear them, especially after you had asked Chaeyoung to borrow them.
“Y-yeah, it’s fine.”
Jungkook seemed to disagree, still standing there with the car door in his hand, and when he opened his mouth, you knew he was going to argue with you.
“I really-”
“It’s fine,” you repeated, reaching for the door handle. “Let’s just go. We’re gonna be late.”
The frown didn’t disappear from his face, but he conceded, albeit with a sigh. His hand squeezed yours, and you flinched, pulling it away as if he burned you. Jungkook stopped, eyes shooting to yours.
Your heart dropped in your chest. Oh no. 
You put on your brightest and biggest smile. “Sorry, your hand’s just super cold,” you laughed. 
Jungkook blinked before smiling, “Ah, sorry.”
With that he shut the car door, and you pulled the seat belt across your body, readying your words on your tongue that you had thought of this entire time.
I’m super tired. Do you mind if I sleep during the ride?
It was a blatant lie. Every nerve and fibre of your body was lit up, wired tightly. You couldn’t find sleep even if you laid in your bed now. The thought of having to talk to Jungkook for the entirety of the car ride, however, turned your stomach upside down. 
You decided to wait for him to put on the seat belt first before saying it, needing a few more seconds to rid the knot from your throat. From the corner of your eye, you watched as he climbed inside, putting his key into the ignition, rubbing his hands together. But rather than reach for the seat belt, Jungkook fumbled with the console, turning on the heat, carefully turning the knob back and forth. Warm air started blasting from the heaters immediately, wrapping you up from every direction.
“Do you want the seat warmer too?”
He looked at you so sincerely. You crumbled almost.
“I-It’s okay.”
“Just say a word and I’ll change it, okay? Don’t want you freezing,” he said before strapping the seat belt across his chest. You turned to the window. 
Your voice wavered slightly. “Uh, I’m super tired. Do you mind if I sleep during the ride?”
“Oh, yeah, no, totally. Get some sleep. I’ll wake you up when we’re there. Gonna take a while anyway.”
You hummed in response, frowning when you saw Jungkook rub his hands together, blowing into them, even holding them up to the heaters for a few seconds. Before you could wonder for too long, he took your hand into his, thumb brushing back and forth.
“Warm enough?”
He said it with such a beautiful smile. It shattered you. You merely nodded before turning away, eyes closing shut, a lump stuck in your throat. The gesture, however small, dug into your heart like a knife. He was so nice, so kind, so good. And for the past week, you had thought the worst of him. 
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You knew you had arrived even before Jungkook parked the car. The engine slowly shut off, keys jangling when he pulled them out. You heard the click of his seat belt, some shuffling, and your heart beat faster as you waited for him to wake you up. Truth be told, you hadn’t thought this through. How were you going to convince him that you had slept this entire time when you hadn’t even for a single second? The last time you had pretended to sleep in the car was when you were seven and didn’t want to go to school. And even then, it hadn’t worked, your mother seeing right through you.
Jungkook had held your hand the entire ride. You had so gotten used to the feeling of his warmth that when he slowly pried his hand out of yours, you felt oddly cold. For a second, you thought you had to have imagined it when you heard the car door open. But when the sound of it softly closing followed, you knew you hadn’t. Maybe he wanted to come around and then wake you up?
You waited a few more seconds but when your car door remained shut, you slowly peeled your eyes open. Once again, Jungkook wasn’t there. But your attention turned to the house across the street instead. Jisoo and Chaeyoung had, of course, asked for Jungkook’s address—Just in case. He had happily sent it to them, and you too if you wanted to forward it to anyone else too. (The fact that Jisoo was over an hour's train ride away didn’t matter by the way.) You couldn’t recall the address, but you did remember the house number, and you were definitely staring at the right house right now.
It was bigger than you could have imagined it to be. It was so absurdly big, almost cartoonishly so. Even more so because it was decked out with all kinds of Christmas lights and stockings. You doubted no second the inside rivalled Chaeyoung’s and Jisoo’s home. But however ridiculous it was to you, this was Jungkook’s childhood home, the house where he grew up in. Where he spent his childhood and teenage years. This particular house. A house. Whilst you grew up in a flat, just with enough space to cram in your little family.
You saw him then, standing next to the expensive car parked in the driveway. Jungkook opened the car door to the passenger seat, and a second later, his mother stepped out. He offered her his hand, earning himself a big smile from her. From inside the car, you couldn’t hear what she said, but you could imagine it. She was right, he was a great son. 
Jungkook looked a lot like his mother, you realised. She had gifted him with her kind eyes and soft big smile. No wonder, her son was so beautiful. She was an elegant woman. It was obvious. The kind of woman that wore cashmere sweaters, baked fresh bread every Sunday, made sure to do her skincare routine every morning and night, expensive creams and serums lining her bathroom cupboard. Not a single hair on her head was grey. She was the perfect wife and mother.
From the driver's seat, a man emerged, Jungkook’s dad. There was a hint of grey colouring his hair, but he pulled it off well. He was shorter than Jungkook by a bit, but you could see right away where Jungkook got his confidence from. For a moment, you wondered if that was how Jungkook would look like when he was older. Would he resemble his father? His dad quickly rounded the car, greeting his son with a hug before taking his wife’s hand into his. He had a kind smile too, you noticed. Of course, he did.
Jungkook had to have said something particularly funny because both his parents erupted into laughter. You looked away, closing your eyes. 
What were you doing here?
The question blared louder than ever before. Could you really do this? Fool everyone? Yourself too? The answer was obvious to you as you looked ahead. A part of you wished you had come to that conclusion before you had gotten into the car. You didn’t know your way around this neighbourhood (of course, not), but you knew you had to get away from here either way.
You stepped out of the car, quietly shutting the door. He couldn’t see, couldn’t know. You had to get away, now.
“Where’s your girlfriend, Kook?” 
His father’s voice made you pause. Jungkook sounded so much like him.
“In the car. She’s sleeping.”
“Are you not gonna wake her up? At least, let her come inside and sleep inside. It’s so cold.”
“No, I was gonna, but then I saw you and dad pull up,” Jungkook explained, his voice carried to you through the wind. His car offered you enough coverage to hide and at the same time allowed a clear view of Jungkook and his parents. “Also, I was gonna get her another pair of shoes. She’s wearing heels.”
His mother gasped. “In this weather? Does she at least have stockings on?” When he shook his head, she gasped again. “No, that’s not good. You better get her another pair of shoes. She’s gonna freeze!”
“I know- ah, I turned off the heat!” Jungkook touched his forehead as if to say how stupid of him. 
You pressed your lips together, teeth sinking into your tongue. The guilt clawed up your throat, raw and red. It hurt, so much so that you didn’t even feel the cold wind on your feet and up your legs, or the way they ached from the unnatural arch the heels forced them into. 
“Go get your girlfriend some shoes,” Jungkook’s father told him. “I’ll get the groceries-”
“What? No, let me, dad. I can do both. I’ll be quick.”
“It’s fine, Kook. We don’t want your girlfriend freezing.” His mother placed her hand on his shoulder. But like the good son he was, he wasn’t having it, already moving to open the trunk.
“It’s okay. I turned off the car just now, and she’s been sleeping peacefully this entire time. I’ll be quick,” Jungkook insisted. “You guys get inside.”
His parents looked at him with a sigh, realising defeat. Jungkook’s father handed him the car keys.
“Well, you better be quick. You know we can’t wait to meet Y/N.”
And with that, they walked inside, hand in hand. Your heart shattered, your name rolling so easily off their lips. It was so odd to hear them say it, hear with how much kindness they did. 
You should just go now, take this opportunity to run, but your feet remained cemented, your eyes following Jungkook as he brought the first two bags up to the front door before grabbing the last two out of the car. Moving his foot underneath the sensor, the trunk closed automatically. You knew nothing about cars but you knew that such a feature didn’t come with most, and was definitely not cheap either.
Right now, looking ahead of you, you could see for the first time clearly just how different Jungkook and you were. There were two different worlds between you, a distance that no one could cross, no less a relationship that wasn’t genuine to begin with. It had been nice and fun, foolishly nice and fun, to pretend all this time, but in the end it had been foolish more than anything. 
Why you didn’t move still remained a mystery to you. Maybe your feet had really frozen to the sidewalk, the heels one of your worst ideas yet, or maybe you simply couldn’t do it, bring it over your heart to just walk away. Maybe you just needed a little more, of him and you. You knew these few seconds would be the last ones of peace before it would all crumble. The illusion would shatter. He and you would be done, forever. There would be no more hangouts together with all your friends, no more cookies and Avatar marathons, no more kisses and hugs. 
Jungkook and you would dissolve, just as quickly as it had all begun in that library with a notebook and pen. 
Jungkook was about to turn around and close the door and he’d see you, standing there on the sidewalk with your eyes set straight on him. He’d see you and he’d smile and put down the bags and walk over to you and ask you why you were standing there and why did you get out of the car and how cold it was. How stupid and silly of you! 
He’d come over and bring you into a hug and his lips would ghost over the crown of your head and you’d cave and melt and you’d go in and meet his family and it’d hurt so much to tell Jungkook’s parents what your parents did when they’d inevitably ask you because of course they would and you’d have to see as they realised that your parents didn’t get to enjoy higher education. They’d be silent for a few seconds before nodding and smiling. They’d quickly change the topic because it was better to talk about something else and oh I heard something so interesting on the news recently, did you hear?
But you didn’t move, even as Jungkook turned, arms heavy with grocery bags, and lifted his head, eyes meeting yours as you predicted he would. His lips lifted up into a smile, a smile bigger than you’d expected. He didn’t move though. Instead he blurred into a heap of colours.
You could no longer do this.
The image of him cleared as the first tears fell, and you watched as his face crumbled while he watched your chest heave up and down, sobs pushing out from your throat. 
Jungkook let go of the grocery bags, the contents spilling out. When he took his step towards you, you did too, away from him. He stilled, frozen. Why, you could see it on his face. Why were you crying? Why were you moving away from him? He deserved answers, an explanation, but the most you could muster up right now was the shake of your head.
No.
And then you took off. 
“Y/N!” 
You pressed your hand to your lips, scared of filling the street with your gut wrenching sobs. Tears kept streaming down your face, hot and heavy. 
You did feel sorry for doing this to Jungkook. But you had to. Because he wasn’t going to. It had to be you. You who finally saw the truth in the eye that this was ridiculous, that this had gone off the rails, that Jungkook and you should have never gotten to this point, to where you found comfort in his arms and he knew your favourite cookies and you showed him your home and he knew more than he should about you. To the point where you had shared the bed together and knew the softness of the other’s lips. To the point where you had irrevocably and undeniably and unfortunately fallen for Jungkook.
You were in love with Jeon Jungkook, and it was the worst thing you could have done to yourself-
“Y/N!”
And it was affirmed when he seized your elbow and turned you around. You didn’t make it very far. Your eyes locked with his, and you could see it in them. How this was going to end. How this had to end, now. 
You were reminded of when you ran out on Jaehwa after seeing him for the first time again. It was what you always did, you realised. Run. 
You just never expected you’d have to run out on Jungkook too.
His eyes, wide and big, searched your face, for something to give him a clue as to what was going on in the head of yours, anything. He didn’t understand. 
You pulled away from him as if his touch burned you, pushed him away.
“Why? What’s wrong?” he asked, frantic, reaching out for you again, but you couldn’t let him touch you, tumbling backwards. Hurt flashed across his features, but this was for the best. Why did you have to be this dramatic? How stupid of you!
“I-I can’t,” you stuttered, shaking your head, dragging your coat sleeve frantically on your cheeks. “I-I just can’t.”
Jungkook stared at you, face twisting and morphing into emotions you couldn’t decipher. You had never really understood him anyway.
“O-okay, hey, that’s fine.”
Who would have thought this would hurt so much to hear?
“That’s alright.”
He should be furious, absolutely and utterly mad with you. You had just run away. If he hadn’t caught you, he would have had to somehow explain to his parents why his so-called perfect girlfriend was suddenly gone. And yet, he met you with empathy and kindness. Jungkook was so good, so precious. He was so much better than you, deserved more. 
“I’ll give you a ride home-”
“No!” you screamed, lungs heaving for air, chest rising and falling dramatically. You shook your head, repeated it again, quieter this time. “No, you don’t understand.”
Jungkook stared at you, mouth opening and closing. “Okay, then explain. But let’s do this in the car-”
“Why are you like this?” You threw the question at his head, venomous and bitter. The anger wasn’t fair, shouldn’t be aimed at him at all. What had he done to deserve it? And yet, you couldn’t find it in you to shift the target. “What are we doing?”
His brows knitted together, the knit deepening. “I-I don’t know what you mean.” You looked at him as if he should. “Can we get to the car first, cabbage-”
You flinched. How could he still call you that? 
“This is so stupid,” you scoffed, shaking your head, eyes looking at everything but him. The cold wind blew your tears away, and your cheeks felt raw from all of the rubbing and dragging. “I- this is so wrong on so many levels. Why am I even here? What are we even doing? Why are you like this?”
“You don’t want to meet my parents, that’s fine. I really think we should get to the car-”
“Why? Because you don’t want your neighbours and parents to see what crazy person you’ve brought home?”
“What? No! Who said that? I wanna get to the car because it’s freezing cold and you only have a coat and heels on-”
“Oh, please, Jeon!” The laugh slipping from your lips made Jungkook flinch. It was so mean, filled with so much spite. “Don’t pretend to be good. What a cheap and pathetic act!”
None of the words you spoke were truthful. You didn’t know where you pulled them from, you didn’t believe any of them. All of them were hollow and mean. But maybe they’d be enough though to bring out anger within Jungkook, make him come to the same realisation as you had—that he and you had to end. But knowing him, he’d meet you with empathy and kindness over and over again. 
He had to hate you. 
You had to make him hate you. Otherwise, this would never find an end. Otherwise, he’d convince you of the opposite, and you’d never be able to let go of him. Otherwise, you’d lose yourself completely to him.
And when you looked at Jungkook, you knew you were right. Because there was no no fire in his eyes, nothing. He still stared at you the same way he used to. Even after you had called him names. Hating you was the only option.
“I really think we should just talk this out another time.”
Defeat, you realised, contorted his features. Not anger. Not spite. None of it. Just defeat. You closed your eyes, shaking your head.
“You’re clearly not in the best of moods and saying stuff that you don’t mean. I don't know what’s going on, but let me just give you a ride home and we’ll figure this out another-”
“Figure out what?” You leaned forward, gestured wildly around yourself. “We? Oh, please, Jeon, there’s no fucking ‘we’. Don’t make me laugh!”
He shook his head, hands running through his hair. 
“I really don’t think you mean any of this, Y/N. I know this entire situation must be bringing up bad memories for you- I know Jaehwa hurt you-”
“What? This has nothing to do with him,” you scoffed, narrowing your eyes, the words pushing through your clenched teeth like a bullet out of a gun. “What do you know, Jeon? What do you really know, huh? Actually, how can you know anything? You with your perfect stupid fucking family with a house oh so big because you just had to show everybody how you were better and richer and greater. What do you know about anything, really?”
You weren’t making sense, but you could see a change in Jungkook’s face, the flicker in his eyes as you mentioned his family. Bullseye.
“Miss me with that bullshit. You’re the kind of people I hate. It’s all so fake and condescending- fuck, you’re so stupidly loaded you’re paying me to pretend to date you so you can win a stupid shitty bet with Taehyung. Your parents must be so proud of their great great son.”
He closed his eyes, screwed them so tightly shut in hopes that maybe if he did so long enough, this would turn out to be a bad dream. This wasn’t happening. Things weren’t falling apart like that. They couldn’t. His hands curled into fists.
“Now you can’t even look at me, Jeon?” you sneered, voice and words growing more and more vicious. “Can’t face the truth, right? You pretend to be so good, so kind. But for fuck’s sake, look at the house you grew up in! Look at where I live! You’re the same as Jaehwa- actually, no because at the very least, he didn’t pretend like he and I weren’t different. You should have some shame, but I guess with parents-”
“Y/N!”
Your name cut through the air, and for once, you stopped and breathed. Jungkook had peeled his eyes open again, teeth gritted, jaw pulled taunt, hands curled into tight fists. 
“I really think it’d be better if you stopped talking now.”
And yet, it wasn’t the response you wanted.
You could have cried then, bawled, fallen to your knees and just admitted to it all. How much you did love him and how much you wanted him, but couldn’t have him because this just wasn’t going to work because he never really did love you and neither would his parents. He and you were doomed, like the moon and the sun. He just would never see it, too idealistic for his own good. Your blatant and devastating flaws. You weren’t good or kind. You had to be the one to pull the plug, to call this what it was—wrong.
“Yeah, of course, you’d say that,” you mumbled, the tip of your shoes digging into the concrete, rolling back and forth. The scratching sound it produced soothed you oddly.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” 
“You know what I mean. You rich people just can’t ever face the truth-”
“No, you idiot!” 
His voice echoed through the empty street, loud and clear. Anger and disdain coloured his words, features twisting and knits deepening. There it was, finally. The anger and upset you had waited and waited for, the blow of the bomb, the finale. 
“I think you should stop talking because I love you and I don’t want my heart broken any further!”
Jungkook was so loud. You had never heard him so loud before, yell like that, tell you so abundantly clear that he loved you. It was the declaration of declarations, blaring and grand. You had wanted to hear it, needed to hear it all this time, all this week—that he loved you—and now when you finally did, it was truly the worst thing anyone had ever told you ever. Because it was everything you wished for, but you couldn’t have it, none of it. It wasn’t real, and even if it was, even if he meant it and he loved you, you couldn’t be with him. The truth didn’t matter. You were too damaged, too broken, too fucked up to never not doubt Jungkook, not to fear that he’d leave at any point. 
You’d never trust him.
“I don’t know what’s going on with you!” He pointed at you, face scrunched and eyes red, tears welling. “I thought we had gotten past this- isn’t it obvious that I do really love-”
“Oh, please. You goddamn liar!” Your voice shook, broke in your throat and mouth, head spinning. You were losing Jungkook, spectacularly so. “What do you know about love? This is an act, Jeon! You’re not in love with me! You’re in love with an act! You’re in love with the idea of winning your stupid bet with-”
“No, no-”
“Yes, Jeon, you don’t know shit. You pretend like you do- think you do when in reality, you don’t know anything about me. Who am I if not just a pawn in your game? Someone you paid, so you could boast and brag that you didn’t get rejected, huh?”
Jungkook licked his lips, veins bulging in his neck as he tried his very best to not go too far, implode on you, hands digging into the roots of his hair. “No, that’s not true. The bet between Tae and me—”
“Actually, you know what? I don’t even care. Because all of it is wrong. It’s not what we agreed upon-”
“Okay, yeah, so we weren’t supposed to kiss and spend time together privately, or sleep with each other and talk on the phone for hours. But look at us now!” He pointed between him and you, as if there was something between you. “We did it all, okay? And? Was it so bad?”
His eyes fixed yours, so deeply. He took a step towards you, and you didn’t back away, couldn’t.
“You call me a liar when I tell you I love you—” His voice shook, trembled terribly, and you could see Jungkook fight to find the right words, struggle to speak. It pained you to know it was all because of you. How easy would it be to take it all back? Admit fault and go back? But would it be right? “—but tell me then, why are you looking at me like that?”
You tried a laugh. A laugh that was meant to dismiss it all, deny the truth, but it sounded hollow and wrong. You couldn’t even look him in the eyes, beginning to crumble. And Jungkook saw right through you.
“Look at me and tell me you don’t feel something!” 
You closed your eyes, crossing your arms in front of your stomach. The world began to spin faster and faster, and you felt like you were losing the ground underneath yourself.
“You’re not being fair,” you whispered, shaking your head. You were speaking much quieter now, your voice having lost all of its bite and edge. This had been harder than you expected. “You’re breaking the contract-”
“Oh my God, will you forget about that? Both of us broke it a long time ago, willingly! Can you please just forget about all of it—the contract, the bet—and look at the facts?”
Jungkook was begging at this point. Would you come to your senses?
“Do you really genuinely think that the past weeks- months didn’t mean anything to me? That it was really all just pretend? That I lied about all of it? That I’m really such a big asshole that I’d pretend to be in love with you this entire time, call you daily, buy you your favourite cookies, hold your hand and kiss you and tell you—” This seemed to drain Jungkook of everything, voice trembling as he presented the worst version of himself to you. “—over and over again that I love you?”
He leaned forward, searched for your eyes. 
It was right in front of you—a white flag up in the air, for you to grab and hiss. You could do it now, he’d forgive you, you were certain of that. Jungkook was still kind enough to do so, his heart ready to let you back in. You wouldn’t even need to say anything, just falling into his arms would suffice. It’d be so easy. Simple, in fact. He’d let you do it, take your silent defeat as an apology. You’d never have to talk about it ever again. It was tempting, slip back into what you were before as if you weren’t aware that he and you were two parallel lines never meant to cross. Jungkook would never be tempted to take this way out, he’d stand straight for what he’d said, repent. The thought to take the easy way out would never cross his mind. It did yours.
“Y-yeah, I do.”
Jungkook shook his head, mouth set in a line.
“You don’t mean that-”
“Yes, I do-”
“Y/N, no, no, you-”
“Stop,” you laughed, shaking your head. “Stop insisting that I don’t mean it. I do. I-”
It was so ironic. It felt like the entire universe was mocking you, laughing at the two of you. This was what  Jungkook had wished for him and you, imagined how beautiful it would be, how you’d sit together in front of the window and watch before he’d suggest to go outside and you’d follow happily. You’d dance and play until neither of you could feel your hands and your cheeks were rough and raw from the cold wind. You’d yearn for the warm, shiver as you stepped inside, but you’d be happy. So very happy. But now it felt like a stab to your hearts instead. 
The first few snowflakes softly landed on your sleeve. It was so beautiful. The entire street would be white in a few hours, kids would come out to play soon.
“I’ll pay you back.” You took a step back, rubbed away the tears that wanted to spill. “See it as compensation for… not meeting your parents.”
Jungkook couldn’t respond, teeth sinking into his tongue, biting on the muscle until it hurt too much. 
“That’s not- that’s not the point. I don’t care for the money, I just-” He deflated. “Just-just meet them, Y/N. Give them a chance, please. You’ll realise- they’re gonna love-”
He stopped when you shrunk in on yourself, vehemently shaking your head. Neither of you said anything, just allowing the snow to fall around you and cover you in white. You’d be shivering in just a few minutes, hair and skin wet, feet shaky on the cold ground. 
Jungkook looked down, hands in his pockets, shoulders slumped. 
“Okay.”
You stood there as you waited for him to turn his back to you and walk away, waited and waited to be finally alone. He’d do it and you’d be alone and you’d be proven right, vindicated. Relief would flood you, knowing you had seen it coming, had always known correctly, protected you, at least, this time of hurt and-
The keys looked cold to the touch.
“Take them. Wait in the car. Call Chae or whoever to come pick you up. You can leave the keys in the car. I’ll get them later.”
Jungkook was ordering you, telling you what to do. And though he spoke with finality, allowing no room for you to disagree, his voice trembled and shook. You didn’t have to look to know the tears staining his cheeks, to know how much you had hurt him, realise that in your quest to do the best for both him and you because he deserved better and not be hurt and left in the end, you had done just that to Jungkook, plunged the knife into his heart and pushed it further even as he spat out blood. 
“It’s fine, I can-”
You couldn’t even finish your sentence before Jungkook grabbed your hand and placed the keys into your palm, forcing your fingers shut around them with his own. His touch sent sparks through your body. It’d be the last time he’d ever touch you, you realised, and before you could stop it, the tears spilt. But you didn’t let out a noise, kept your head low and eyes even lower. 
“Merry Christmas, Y/N.”
Jungkook hesitated before letting go, his feet dragging as he walked away.
Maybe it was you holding the gun, not Jungkook.
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→ thanks for reading !! if you have any thoughts, id love to hear it!
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q1ngqve · 8 months
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Hiiii I'm the avenratio x reader requester a while back!! No worries I'm not here to make you hurry up on that but I did want to leave some more food for thought!! :3 But hmmmm AvenRatio who starts their toxic yaoi w you as their messenger/wingman LMAO so you've seen some and been through some shit cause of them HDHSHSHHS and then one day they get together and you're like my work here is done!!! And try to leave but you silly! Silly thing <333 you have been part of their dynamic since the very beginning isn't that why you were both helping them in the first place?
Tsk tsk tsk guess they'll just have to reteach their dumb stupid little human on what's correct or not <333 (yes imagine this w wolf ratio and fox aventurine or something and you're a normal human okay good day idk what my anon tag should be you decide)
im gonna change it up a little because i dont write for mlm so 😼 also reader is a bunny hybrid because ive been obsessed with this dynamic lately
CW; fem! reader, threesome, bunny hybrid reader, fox hybrid aventurine, wolf hybrid dr ratio, degradation, sex toy (dildo), double penetration (ass & vagina), throat fucking
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wolf! dr ratio would be degrading you the whole time after he finds out that you think you could just run away after helping them! are you really that dumb or just pretending to not know?
“dumb little bunny, thinking she can just leave us whenever she likes.”
and fox! aventurine would be laugh teasingly at you as he shoves a dildo up your ass, a mischievous glint appearing in his eyes when he turns up the vibration on the toy
wolf! dr ratio and fox! aventurine getting even more excited when they notice your fluffy tail twitching and your ears flopping down to the back of your head each them they play with the sensitive parts on your body
their animal instincts taking over when you promise to be good and listen to whatever they say, because you’re just too dumb to make any correct decisions for yourself! you just need two big men to make all your decisions for you, so you can turn off your brain when you’re with them! why think at all when they can do that for you?
“gotta teach you a lesson, isn’t that right, sweetheart?”
fox! aventurine’s grip on your hair tightens as he fucks your mouth, your throat constricting around the tip of his dick, while wolf! dr ratio pounds into your pussy from behind, the dildo in your ass not helping the situation. you’re so full that all you can do is whine around aventurine’s dick as you clench around wolf! dr ratio :(
“c’mon, use your words.” knowing full well you’re already fucked dumb and delirious! they just wanna tease you 😵‍💫
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firelordsfirelady · 6 months
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IV. Outburst
Author: @firelordsfirelady
Imagine: When Y/N—a princess of one of the Water Tribes—is told she’s leaving her tribe, she never expects that she’s to be betrothed to the Fire Lord’s son, nor was she prepared to be exiled the very day she arrived at the Fire Nation. With her life in the hands of her new fiancée, how will life change for the princess? 
Pairing: Zuko x F!Reader
Trigger warnings: arranged marriage, feelings of fear, banishment, mentions of burns/abuse, frustration, violence, betrayal
Word Count: 1167
Destined to be Yin and Yang
I own no rights to Avatar the Last Airbender or any of the characters/story.
Author’s Notes
The characters as all aged up so Zuko’s banishment happens when he’s 16 
Keep in mind I am bringing a unique world with inspiration from ATLA in their characters, some of the events that happen, bending, etc. Not many things may align or occur with what happened in the show. It’s intended that way, so I hope you enjoy it regardless.
See Y/N’s inspiration here. 
Destined to be Yin and Yang Soundtrack (YouTube)
Zuko made no mention of the cookies the next morning, but I anticipated as much from the Prince. The crew, however, raved about my cookies and were quite happy to hear that I would make them plenty of cookies during our time together. I kept my promise because every full moon I would make the crew a batch of cookies and then practice my water bending on the deck before heading to bed. Of course, I never let Zuko or Iroh be out of the cookie receiving as I would deliver their plates before going to bed. 
Thus began my new daily routine of lending a hand in the kitchen or helping with the dishes. I often found myself aiding in other chores around the ship, which only served to aggravate Zuko more. Zuko always made sure to make remarks about how informal of a princess I was, so I made it my mission to find ways to annoy the Prince further. Let’s just say that I was very good at it. 
The first time Zuko saw me mopping the deck, he made a snide comment that earned him an accidental flick of some water from the mop bucket. 
“Forgive me, Prince Zuko,” I had teased him that day. “I am merely just a princess who doesn’t know how to handle the mop.” Iroh hid his small chuckle at my comment, knowing all too well that I was more than capable of handling the simple mop. I think he found it mildly amusing that I teased the Prince often, and this served to agitate the Fire Lord’s son further.
Despite the banter from Zuko,  I had grown to enjoy life traveling around on a ship. As a young girl, I had dreamed of what it would be like to see the world outside of the Tribe, but I quickly realized that as the princess I would never have those opportunities. Especially since after the Avatar disappeared from the world a century ago, the nations decided to sequester away from each other to protect themselves.
With Zuko on the quest to find the Avatar, he has been researching the previous avatars. We have been to several Avatar shrines across the nations and have been frequenting the other Water Tribes. Zuko was sure that the next avatar would be a Waterbender, and so we stayed near in case the Avatar made his appearance. Each time Zuko got a hint or a tip that there was a chance of the Avatar appearing, the ship would speed to the new destination. Disappointment met Zuko at every new stop, and I felt my heart break more as I watched the hope slowly die from his eyes. Yet, at the next whisper of a sign from the Avatar, Zuko would begin the cycle all over again.
The months slowly turned into years, and Iroh and I met regularly to drink tea together. During our tea visits, Iroh would tell me stories of dragons and the origin stories of Firebending, and, in return, I shared the stories of the Water Nation and our origin. I enjoyed listening to Iroh’s great accomplishments and was glad that I had found a friend in Iroh.
While my friendship with Iroh grew, I could not say the same about my relationship with Zuko. Three years of the same routine with Zuko had begun to wear the hope in me down. I tried my best to make an effort with Zuko in hopes that we might be able to at least tolerate each other. I gave him cookies every full moon, and I offered information that I read at the shrines regarding the avatar that might help Zuko. I did get a small glimmer of hope when he stopped calling me an informal princess after the first six months of life on the ship. After two years, there was light banter between us that was somewhat jovial, but the banter was more teasing than anything else.
That all changed today when Zuko had met another dead end in his search for the Avatar. Once we arrived back at the boat, Zuko’s anger was palpable as he stalked on to the deck. Iroh’s face was a look of concern as he watched Zuko clench and unclench his fists. I chewed my bottom lip as I slowly walked onto the deck behind Iroh, who shared a concerned look with me. My heart increased its pace in my chest as I opened my mouth to say something to the Prince.
“Zuko—“ I started, but Zuko whipped around on his heel and his golden eyes were bright with rage.
“You don’t get the right to call me Zuko.” He snapped in anger. “You’re a good-for-nothing princess who doesn’t understand her place.” My breath hitched as I prepared myself for whatever else he was about to say. “I can understand why my father wants me to find the Avatar, but I can’t begin to wrap my head around why the hell he wants me to marry you.”
“You’re prancing around this ship like it’s a vacation home. Cooking with the crew, cleaning the decks, and not to mention you’re waterbending during the full moon.“ Keeping my face straight, I felt hurt cloud my heart as Zuko spoke his next words with so much hate. “You make cookies to compensate for what you lack as a person. You’re a pathetic excuse for a princess, and I hate that you’re my betrothed.”
Zuko was breathing heavily as he finished his rant, and I swallowed the lump in my throat in a pathetic excuse to calm the tears forming in my eyes. Silence fell upon the entire boat as I composed myself. Part of me wanted to scream at him that he wasn’t the only one suffering here. A tiny part of me wanted to wrap him in a cocoon of ice and then walk away. Another part of me wanted to hug him because I could see he was frustrated, and I was the only person who he was set on taking his anger upon.
I did none of those things as I shook my head and walked away. His words cut me deep, but I refused to let him see the tears that silently fell from my eyes as I made haste to my bedroom. Once behind the security of the closed door, I let the tsunami wave of tears flow as I cried into my pillow.
After a few hours of crying, I lay in bed and I stared at the ceiling. My eyes were no doubt red and puffy from the amount of crying I had done. Though my eyes burned, I could not tempt my body into a thoughtless slumber. So, instead of sleeping, I got up from bed and lit the oil lamp on my desk. I grabbed some blank pieces of paper and a pencil then began doing the one thing that would distract me the most right now: draw.
Tag List @chevysstuffs @puttyly @ginger24880 @night-fall-moon @hypnoticbeing
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soapsbaby · 1 year
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Friends with Benefits
Kinktober IV
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Summary: How a friends with benefits relationship would go with them. Characters: Simon “Ghost” Riley, Johnny “Soap” Mactavish, Kyle “Gaz” Garrick, John Price, König, Alejandro Vargas, Rudy Vargas, Valeria Garza, all x gn!reader Rating: NSFW (mdni) Word Count: 1200ish
Ghost
In the beginning it was a lot more “benefits” than it was “friends”. He had a lot of issues to let you in any further than just sleeping with you. 
You were an outlet for frustration and he was entirely honest about that and made sure you didn't feel used or led on.
It took a while but eventually you were able to spend the night, he started calling you when he needed company and eventually he even opened up to you a little and you finally got to understand why he acts the way he does.
He’s a very attentive lover and now that he has a closer bond with you, also an incredible friend. He is always there to listen, even if he often doesn’t know what advice to give you.
Often calls you over late at night or right after returning from missions, just needing a way to blow off steam. He tends to be a little rough with you, but only with your consent.
He isn’t interested in any relationship or attachments so he is quite happy with your arrangement. 
Soap
You and Johnny had been friends for super long before you eventually got closer to him. It was just supposed to be a sleepover so you could binge some horror movies together, but at some point his hand had ended up on your thighs, then you had ended up in his lap and the moment you started kissing you both knew it was over. 
Except for having sex not much has changed between the two of you, most of your hookups still happen during movie nights or other friendship hangouts that you would have had before starting to sleep together.
It’s becoming a problem when people start asking questions since neither of you pay any attention to the movies you’re supposed to be watching. “Oh, you watched (...) on the weekend, right?? How was it?” “Uh… Good… I think.” 
You are so casual and comfortable with each other that there was never really a phase of awkwardness between you two, it just felt natural. 
He honestly doesn't care if anyone finds out, is the type to pull you into a supply closet for a quickie.
Price
You are both very happy with the arrangement, even though except for missing full commitment you are basically in a relationship. 
He will always make sure you know you are taken care of and that you know how much he appreciates you, take you out for dinner or cook for you, get you gifts. 
Compared to the others, your relationship is a little more mature and less impulsive, you had been friends for a long while, tried to date but didn’t quite work out. Still, you both had to admit you enjoyed having sex with one another, so you just decided to go back to that part. 
He’ll check in with you often to make sure you are still happy with the situation and it is understood that if either of you ever find a serious relationship you’ll have to stop.
He likes to make sure he has his time with you, whenever you have a "date" he wants to have the whole day off.
Gaz
It was supposed to be just a friends with benefits situation but failed almost immediately. You both tried so hard to keep it casual but it was a lost cause from the first time. 
Gaz used to have hookups quite often when off duty, but now that he has you, he doesn’t really want or need that anymore. He doesn’t want to admit it to himself, let alone you, but he’s kind of obsessed with you.
At this point you are spending so much time at each other’s places that you might as well move in, but both of you are afraid to suggest taking the next step because that is not what we agreed on.
He is so sweet, always taking his time with you, making sure you are the priority and that you feel well taken care of.
So good at giving oral.
König
You’re one of the few people from his past that he is still in contact with and though you don’t get to see him often, it’s a good time whenever you do.
It’s good for him to have someone from his childhood that can give him a reality check and make sure he doesn’t forget where he came from when he needs it.
He isn’t the best at communicating, which your situation requires a lot of, so you run into problems at times. You don’t see each other often, most of the time there is a lot of distance dividing you, plus the time zones, so there is a lot to be navigated.
He likes and appreciates you a lot though, so you make it work somehow.
Most of the time he is super gentle with you and will do whatever it takes to make sure you finish first, however there have been situations where he just needed to use you to get some negative emotions out of his system after a failed mission.
Alejandro 
He always said he wasn’t one for casual sex, that he was made for relationships, but he had to learn that that just isn’t fully true. Once you and him started sleeping together he had to realize how convenient it was to have someone to help him have his needs met without the responsibilities that come with actual relationships.
He’s a great lover, extremely attentive, very loving, and skillful at what he does. He’d never be selfish and only get himself off.
Rudy
You have been friends with benefits for as long as you can remember, so the communication between the two of you is great since you just know each other so well.
It started when you were joking around with him after a bad date how dating around wasn't worth it just to have mediocre sex with people you barey liked and he got competetive about it.
"Bet I could do better." (He in fact could and did do better)
You don’t sleep with each other that often, just once every few months when you both feel like it. Most of the time when you hang out, things stay strictly platonic, that is just the way things work out for you.
Valeria
She doesn’t have many friends that she can actually trust, so she was terrified to push your relationship any further than a friendship. She didn’t want to risk losing you, one of the few people who knew her before the army, before the cartel. 
Still, one thing led to another and she’d never want to go back to before. She knows you might not fully support her work in the cartel, but that you still feel nothing but loyalty for her.
She doesn’t have time for an actual relationship and also wouldn’t want to put someone in danger of getting caught up in the crossfire of cartel dealings, so you being fairly low-commitment for her is ideal.
She can be a bit of a selfish lover, but you adore pleasuring her, so it all works out in the end.
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vodika-vibes · 8 months
Text
Just One Date
Summary: You're a Military Doctor attached to the 212, and you've come to consider Commander Cody as a friend. Turns out, that he sees you a little bit more.
Pairing: Commander Cody x F!Reader
Word Count: 1333
Warnings: Cody makes suggestive jokes, and gets whacked with pillows and has a hand slapped over his mouth for it.
Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni
A/N: HAPPY 2224 Day! I came up with this idea at 5:30 this morning when I originally woke up and when I remembered what today was. There might, possibly, be a sequel where the date actually happens. It depends on people's reactions to this one.
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You’ve been a civilian employee to the GAR since you were old enough to enlist. The military wasn’t exactly your “dream” career, but it got you away from your incredibly toxic family, and it paid you to go to medical school.
And, really, at the time the odds of there actually being a war was slim to non-existent.
Jokes on you, the war started 6 months after you graduated and you found yourself bouncing from military base to military base, before finally getting assigned to The Negotiator, under General Obi-Wan Kenobi and Commander Cody.
The Commander is everything you’ve ever wanted in a Senior Officer, respectful and professional when the situation calls for it, but more than happy to share jokes with you when you’re not working.
The General, however, is a walking migraine.
At this point, you’re beginning to think that your job would be easier if you were assigned to literally any other battalion.
“General Kenobi,” You say as you pinch the bridge of your nose, “Did you, perhaps, skip your basic first aid lessons as a child?”
Helix, working on Commander Cody at the bed behind you, doesn’t bother to muffle his laughter, but you tune him out with the ease of long practice, instead pinning your General with an accusing glare.
“Well,” General Kenobi rubs his chin thoughtfully, “I was a very busy padawan-”
“So, perhaps, you skipped the basic first aid classes that say when you get stabbed, do not remove the stabbing implement?” You interrupt.
“Well, I wouldn’t say that I skipped the lessons-” He demures.
“And your reasoning for ignoring Commander Cody’s very reasonable order to not remove the knife from your thigh?” You ask.
“...uh…I was in shock?”
You smile. It’s a nice smile, and you’re pleased to see General Kenobi slump on the hospital bed, “Well, since you ignored your Commander’s very reasonable, and correct, order. You’re going to spend the next three days in a bacta tank.”
“I don’t think you’re allowed to use bacta tanks as a punishment.” General Kenobi says thoughtfully.
“I don’t think you’re in any position to argue with me.” You counter with a roll of your eyes. “Relax, General. It’s not a punishment. You’re more injured than you look. And maybe you can get some sleep if I drug you enough.”
General Kenobi sputters, “Commander! Are you hearing this?”
“Hm? What? I’m not listening.” Cody says with a sly smirk.
“Well, there you have it. The Commander’s on my side.” You say brightly, as you spin to grab a syringe of the sedative that was especially formulated for Jedi. “Good night, General.”
“This is mutiny,” General Kenobi says with a frown.
“Yes, yes. I know.” You inject the liquid into his IV, “We’ll see you in a couple of days.” The older man slowly drifts off to sleep, and you pass the General over to the men who can get him into a bacta tank easier than you.
And then you spin on your heel and move over to Commander Cody, who’s laying on his hospital bed very peacefully, a small grin playing on his lips. “What’s wrong with you?” You ask, as you grab his file and scan it.
“Well, I was blown up, mesh’la.” Commander Cody says blandly.
“Well, that was silly of you. Why would you do something like that?”
“I woke up this morning and thought, ‘how can I make my medics pull their hair out today?’ and decided that getting blown up was the best way to go about it.”
You smother your laugh and glance at him, “One of these days Helix is actually going to kill you.”
“But you’ll protect me won’t you?”
“Of course.” You wink at him, “Everyone knows I’m the scary one.” You scan his record for a moment, and then favor him with a smile, “Aside from some bumps and bruises, you look totally fine.”
He grins at you, “So you like how I look, do you?”
You sigh, “Commander, that joke got old within a week of working with any of you.”
Cody just laughs and sits up, “Come on, Doc. I won’t tell. We both know that I’m the most handsome.”
“One of these days,” You counter as you set your hands on your hips, “I’m going to buy a box of chocolates and address it to ‘the most handsome man in the 212’ just to see who wins.”
“Aww, mesh’la, you don’t have to buy me chocolates.”
“Ooh, someone’s cocky.”
“You have no idea.” He flashes a boyish grin, “I could show you, if you like.”
You squint at him, “What?”
“Just how cocky I am.” Cody clarifies with a sly grin.
Your jaw drops and your face burns, before you grab the thin pillow and smack him with it, “Behave!”
Cody laughs, as he fends off the pillow, “What? I just repeated what you said. It’s not my fault that your brain lives in the gutter.”
“Rude. Rude!” You huff, “I changed my mind, I’m not going to protect you from Helix. RIP Commander Cody. I knew you well.”
“C’mon mesh’la,” He teases, “Having a dirty mind is a boon. Well, I think. Especially if it’s dirty about me.” Cody reaches out and lightly grips your hips, tugging you closer.
You scowl at him, though it’s really more of a pout, “You know, there are almost 2 million men identical to you-”
“Yeah, yeah. But you don’t have dirty thoughts about them.” Cody replies confidently.
“You’re so sure of that?”
“Yup.”
You shake your head, “Come on, Commander. You’re hardly a mind-reader.”
“I don’t have to be. I see how you look at me.” He says with a smirk.
“And how do I look at you?” You ask sarcastically.
Cody’s smirk grows into an amused grin, “Like you wanna drag me into a supply closet and ri-” You slam your hands over his mouth.
“Okay! Thank you!” You yelp, your face burning. “Why do people think you’re the mature one?” You bemoan.
“Because I play the part well,” He says smugly, his voice muffled by your hand. 
“Can I remove my hand or are you still going to try and embarrass me?” You ask.
“I like it when you get all embarrassed, it’s cute.” Cody replies before he pulls your hands away from his mouth, and then presses them to the bed next to him without releasing them.
“Hm, you seem to have forgotten to release my hands.” You say dryly.
“I didn’t forget. I did it on purpose.” He says, his dark eyes scanning your face.
“And why would you do that?”
“Go on a date with me.” Cody says.
You blink at him, startled. “I beg your pardon?”
“One date,” He clarifies, “That’s all I’m asking for.”
“Commander-”
“Cody.” He interrupts, his gaze serious, “One night. Let me show you how good we could be together.”
You avert your gaze for a second, and you know that he can feel your heart racing with how he’s holding your hands still. “Commander, we’re not going to be returning to Coruscant for several months-”
“Cody, and I don’t care. I can woo you even on the Negotiator. Give me a chance.”
“And if we don’t go well together at the end of the night? What then?”
“We’re going to be great,” Cody counters, “But, if,” He rolls his eyes, “For some reason, we don’t work out, then nothing will change.”
“Com-”
He tugs your wrists so that you topple against him, “Cody. My name isn’t that hard, is it?”
“...Cody.” You finally say with a sigh, though there’s a small smile playing on your lips, “I suppose, since you’re so eager, I can agree to a single night.”
“There's going to be more than one.” Cody says confidently. 
You hum thoughtfully, “Prove it.”
He grins at you boyishly, “I can do that. I already have the whole thing planned.”
“...How?” You ask, exasperated.
“I’m very good at what I do.” He replies smugly.
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stellar-skyy · 10 months
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COURT GOSSIP — Furina x reader.
i. SUMMARY: Fontaine has a lot to say about Furina's lover. (Now with a part two!) ii. CONTENT WARNINGS: Very very slight spoilers for the 4.2 archon quest, brief use of pet names (darling). iii. NOTES: Angst, reader doesn't actually make an appearance but they are talked about throughout, gn!reader, they/them pronouns used, 2.1k words. iv. A/N: Angst bc i lost the 50/50. This probably isn't as good as I wanted it to be, but I'm tired and I was sick of rewriting things.
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They called the relationship a lot of things. Scandalous, shocking, shameless. Shameless wasn’t the right word. Furina had plenty shame, but the taste of love had left her too excited to worry about repercussions. Careless, was more accurate.
If she had more care, she would be home by then, curled around her lover, laying with her ear pressed to their chest so she could hear their heartbeat. She wouldn’t be pacing back and forth and wearing grooves into Neuvillette’s office’s carpet.
“It is going to be alright, Lady Furina. Sit down.” Neuvillette said calmly. He was sitting still, hands folded in his lap, and to the ordinary eye he looked perfectly at ease. But Furina hadn’t spent five centuries with him without learning his mannerisms. The stiffness in his shoulders, the twitch of his eyebrow, the way his words sounded a touch too sharp; it was obvious he was just as concerned as she was.
“It’s not! Do you know what they’re saying?” Furina hissed. She threw the newspaper across his desk, letting it land in front of him with a smack. The photo of the two of them—her arms wrapped around their neck, while they kissed her cheek—took up almost the entire page, only broken up by the title.
Exclusive: Who is Lady Furina’s secret paramour?
“I must say, this is quite a poorly titled article.” Neuvillette frowned, looking closer. “The word ‘paramour’ is archaic by itself, but more than that it already implies a scandalous relationship. The word ‘secret’ is superfluous.”
“That’s not the point!” Furina practically wailed. “Look at what they’re saying!”
“Hmm… ‘Who is this mystery partner, and how did they catch the attention of the Archon herself? Is this unknown lover strategically targeting Lady Furina to attempt to obscure the justice of Fontaine?’ Ah, I see. They believe your partner to be seeking you out to gain influence of the court system.”
“How dare they! To think they would stoop to such a level to accuse my—”
“It is alright. I have already scheduled an official announcement to acknowledge the concerns and quell the rumours.”
“It’s not only that! The people are losing their respect.”
“…I am afraid I do not understand.”
“For me! They—” Furina halted. “I—I heard them today. They think of me as just some love-stricken girl. Archons above—” Neuvillette chose not to point out that she herself was an archon. “I couldn’t stand it...”
⋆ ✩ 。 ° ✩ ° 。 ✩ ⋆
It had been a pleasant morning; so pleasant that once Furina had detangled herself from her partner’s arms, she decided to take a walk.
As she strolled through the streets, the sounds of the city beginning its day and the singing of birds mingled together in a strangely beautiful symphony. They competed for the attention of whoever happened to be listening, with songbirds chirping and crooning from the tops of buildings, directly above the sounds of vendors and other salespersons trying to sell their products.
“Fresh lavender melons, straight from Inazuma!” A fruit-seller called, holding a basket filled with bright purple fruits.
Ah, Lavender Melons. They were a fairly new sight in Fontaine, only appearing after trade with Inazuma was reestablished. Perhaps she should purchase a bunch.
“Extra, extra!” a young newsboy yelled out, waving a newspaper above his head. “Read all about the latest Fontaine news, from the Fontaine Gazette! Hear about the case that divided the Chief Justice and Lady Furina!”
The newspapers were always embellished, but the Fontaine Gazette was a particularly egregious example. Not a single word in that paper was without exaggeration. Though, it was entertaining at times to look over the stories and laugh about the incredulity of it all.
She strolled over to listen to the boy’s calls, idly looking past the rows of newspapers and magazines. She withdrew one from the stand, a gaudy looking magazine with bright red headlines screaming in her face.  
The Spina di Rosula in shambles! it shrieked. Such a crude form of entertainment, the misery of others. It was good Fontaine had enough reputable newspapers to drown out the crows and calls of garbage like that.
“Extra, extra! Lady Furina has a secret lover? Read all about it here!”
In a second, the magazine in Furina’s hands slipped onto the ground, and she felt her breath catch in her chest.
She had to have misheard him; it must be a terrible mistake. She’d been too careful to hide them from the spotlight, keeping them away from the public’s claws. If they’d been discovered, the media would stop at nothing to tear them to shreds. Not to mention how she’d look if their relationship was found out—the Archon of Fontaine, falling head over heels for a mere mortal.
Furina had snatched the paper right out of the young boy’s hand. As he started protesting, she quickly threw a handful of Mora at him and bustled away to read the paper. Behind her, two ladies gasped and leaned over to whisper to each other.
“Is that Lady Furina?”
“I’m surprised she can show her face… I wouldn’t have the courage.”
Vultures, the lot of them! Had they no shame, gossiping about her from six feet away, like she couldn’t damn well hear them?
Their chatter faded to static and white noise in her ears, as the newspaper unfolded to reveal the story she’d been fearing. In it, the photo showed two lovers were caught in an embrace, one hidden in the other’s shoulder. The other was turned at just the right angle to show herself to the camera, grinning down at her partner with love in her eyes.
Furina stared in horror as her own face stared back at her.
⋆ ✩ 。 ° ✩ ° 。 ✩ ⋆
“Furina—Ahem, Lady Furina,” Neuvillette paused, blinking at his mistake. Oh dear. He must be on the verge of a breakdown, if he was already messing up her name. “We must begin the conference soon. Shall we leave?”
“I—I suppose that would be prudent,” Furina said shakily, straightening her back.
The trip to the Opera Epiclese was filled with silence. Furina stared at her hands in her lap, picking at the edges of her gloves, while Neuvillette gripped his cane tightly and periodically shot her concerned looks. The only words that were spoken were after they had arrived.
“Are you ready?” Neuvillette asked, hand curled around the curtain separating their backstage room to the front balcony.
“No,” Furina whispered hollowly, before smoothing her features into neutrality and stepping onto the stage.
“Hello, my dears.” Her lips moved of their own accord; voice disconnected from her mind. “I am here to address some rumours you may have heard. If you have been following the news, you would know that some pictures have been spreading of me and another individual. Since then, there has been a number of gossip floating around the court, very little of which is based on fact.”
“Tch, she’s already trying to avoid the blame.” A particularly loud audience member commented, loud enough for Furina to hear. She hesitated for a moment, before continuing.
“This person is as many have suspected,” Furina breathed out. “A romantic partner.”
“Ms Furina!” A young man—notebook and pen in hand; a reporter, likely—yelled out. Furina bit back the haughty That is Lady Furina to you on her tongue. Arrogance wouldn’t serve her well in this performance. “People have been saying that this ‘lover’ of yours is a threat to the integrity of the justice system. How do you respond to the allegations that they are using you to sway the court?”
“T-That isn’t true! They—”
“How can we trust the Palais Mermonia if the Archon is being influenced?” A voice in the front row whispered loudly to her friend.
“If she’s that weak to the charm of a random person, then what does that say about her judgement?” Another responded.
“I—” Furina stuttered out. “P-Please, calm yourselves! I can explain myself if you just wait—”
“Is this really what Fontaine is coming to?” That pesky reporter yelled out, only stirring the chaos further. The courtroom erupted into noise, all overlapping opinions drowning out any conscious thought of hers.
“Childish—”
“Unprofessional—”
“Not fit to lead—”
“—If she’s so distracted by love.”
If the first words were a punch in the gut, the last were certainly a strike straight to her skull. She flinched, her resolve cracking enough to let the throes of panic wash over her face. It was all too much: the lights, the noise, the audience.
But she was used to commotion. She had been acting for centuries.
In the drama, she had almost forgotten her place; the Court of Fontaine was her stage, and she was the leading actress. The citizens before her were the audience to her performance, and she was damned if she wasn’t to put on a show for them.
With a deep breath, she slipped right back into the façade, smoothing over the cracks in her mask with inhuman poise.
“They say the true tragedy of godhood, is one never gets the chance to live like a human.” Furina smiled coyly, playing up the eccentric goddess act that she had been cultivating for centuries. “So many experiences we are robbed of; growing up, falling in love.”
“You wanted to be human?” An audience member called out. Young woman, nervous expression. Perfect extra for Furina’s show.
She turned to stare her in the eyes, coy grin lighting up her features. “Tell me, dear. Have you ever had a lover of your own?”
 “M-me?!” She squeaked. “Oh… I-I haven’t really had a girlfriend. B-But I have been in a… relationship of sorts.” The audience member spluttered and blushed. “A… summer fling, I suppose.”
“Well, wouldn’t I be a fool not to chase a summer fling of my own?” Furina tilted back her head with a laugh, letting her voice boom across the Opera with the confidence that left the audience hanging on her every word. “Oh, my dearest citizens. Do you think so lowly of me to think I’d let a brief bit of romance keep me from my duties? That I would be blinded by something so silly as love?”
“You don’t love them?” Another nervous audience member asked.
Yes, Furina wanted to scream. I love them more than I have ever loved anything in this world.
“Ah, love. Such a novel concept.” She loved them, she did. Oh, how she hoped they would forgive them for this. “The only love I hold is for my people and my nation! I need no lover, when I already have the love of my beautiful Fontaine.”
“I believe we have strayed off-topic,” Neuvillette said, smoothly shifting their attention to him. “The Court of Fontaine retains that this individual carries no influence over Lady Furina, the Palais Mermonia or the Fontainian justice system. This… relationship is something inconsequential that has no effect over Lady Furina’s work, and is not of a concern to Fontaine’s citizens.” Damn right it wasn’t their concern. “To put it frankly, this person is of no significance at all.”
Only Neuvillette was close enough to hear the sharp gasp that escaped her.
“This conference is hereby adjourned.”
They were going to hate her.
How was she supposed to look them in the eyes, after telling an entire courtroom that they were of no importance to her? The love of her life, the one who brought light into the world and a smile of genuine joy upon her face with just their presence. She imagined them watching the court; hearing her words, feeling them strike against their skin like blades.
They were going to hate her, and she would let them.
She would let them hate her, if it meant the public would forget their name. The moment they disappeared from the light, then the rumours would disappear just the same.
And a part of her—a small, barely noticeable, inconsequential part of her, but a part of her nonetheless—breathed a sigh of relief at the knowledge that her balance hadn’t been overturned. It was selfish, she knew that, and the thought disgusted her as much as it brought her comfort. That part whispered that it was for the best, not just for them but for her as well. Her reputation was secure, they were quietly pushed away from the light, and the scandal would die down quickly.
Furina stumbled backstage, stomach spinning. She leaned heavily against the wall, eyes squeezed shut, dreading the moment she would have to go home and face her lover after what she had done.
“Oh, darling.” She murmured. “Please forgive me.”
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reblogs and comments are appreciated! ♡
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nyxyxx · 10 months
Text
Godly Desires - Part 1
So yeah this is what I've been working on recently. It's quite short actually but I wanted to post it right now cause I'll be too busy later. It's not fully edited yet but I'll get to that sometime. I. II. III. IV.
As usual this story will contain yandere themes and religious themes so please proceed with caution. (This part itself is fine though.)
"A new place"
-
You wake up in an unfamiliar surrounding, as you try to collect your thoughts. You see very tall trees - taller than ones you've ever seen before. You can faintly hear the sound of rushing water nearby, as well as birds chirping from all around. All of this leads you to believe that you are currently in a forest, though you have no idea how you got here.
You slowly rise from the ground, brushing the dirt off of your person, and as you do, you take notice of the strange shiny object on the ground by your feet. Upon further inspection, it appears to be some fancy mirror-like object, though it could definitely use a cleaning. You put it in your pocket and decided you'd deal with it later.
Looking back up, you see two paths stretch ahead of you. One going forward, and one going backwards. The one going forwards and the one going backwards had no drastic difference, something that would tell you that going one way would be more dangerous than the other. However, the path going backwards was going uphill, and you figured you might as well go forwards then, if just out of laziness.
The more you walked down the path, you noticed the sun was beginning to go down. This wasn't good. You most certainly didn't want to have to spend the night out in this forest, where you had no idea what could happen. So you hurried along the path quicker. If you could get to the water, then you could probably find your way out of the forest.
However, as you got closer to the sound of the water, you noticed other... strange sounds around you. It was hard to explain if what you were hearing was a language being spoken, or just the sound of animals. You hid behind a tree and crept closer, peeking ahead.
There you found...hilichurls...? You were so confused. Were you dreaming, or were there actually hilichurls in front of you? They didn't seem to notice you, as they kept staring towards the beach. Regardless if this was real or not, you realized you had to find a way around them. Should you try and fight them? Well that idea was quickly dismissed, as you had nothing on your person you could use as a weapon, unless you wanted to try attacking them with a stray branch on the ground.
Or you could try to sneak past them? You contemplated what you should do for a while. In the end, you decided the most logical thing to do was to try and sneak past them. You carefully hid behind the hill they were standing on top of, while you crawled on your hands and knees around them. Everything was going well... until you got to the other side of the hill, where you were greeted unexpectedly by a mitachurl.
You stood there in fear. It was huge. Much taller than you, and it held a giant axe in its hands. You stood there in shock for a while, until you noticed that it had spotted you. In fact, it had been staring at you since the beginning. You had the urge to run, to flee, to scream and yell for help - but you didn't move. You found you couldn't get your feet to listen to you. It began to approach closer, and you felt like your heart was going to burst out of your chest. Your palms were sweaty, your body was shaking. It stepped closer once more, now directly in front of you.
And then with its giant hand, it reached towards you...and your eyes snapped shut. Oh no, this was it. You were going to die. Fear took over you, but there was something else as well. Something you couldn't decipher. Well, it didn't matter anyway, because you were going to die right now.
That is what you thought until you opened your eyes. In front of you, the mitachurl did not attack you, but instead held out its hand, and offered you...an apple?
-
Part two is in the works and will probably be up maybe tomorrow at earliest.
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the-offside-rule · 8 months
Text
Fernando Alonso (McLaren) - Envious
Requested: yes, tumblr via dm
Prompt: Can I please make a request where Fernando is in McLaren. He just won the championship twice and he is seen to be incredibly cocky. Y/n, a TV interviewer does not like this but she does seem fond of Leiws and he gets maddddd. He decides to change for her and please make the ending cute <3 (ITS GONNA BE A TWO PART)
Warnings: cocky Fernando, jealous Fernando
Envious: part 2
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Y/n tightened her grip on the microphone, trying to maintain her composure during the interview with the Fernando Alonso. His cocky demeanor had been evident from the beginning, but it seemed to intensify as the questions progressed. They had met back during Fernando's first season in F1 as she was lucky enough to grab an internship. While he at first seemed lovely and polite, his true colours had come when Y/n returned to the paddock the season after Fenrnado won his first championship. He had completely changed. "Do you think you could win the championship a third time, or do you think you've moved past your prime?" Y/n asked, before moving the microphone towards Fernando for him to answer her question.
Fernando flashed a smirk at his interviewer. "Well, you see, I'm just that good, I don't think my prime has even come yet." Y/n clenched her jaw at the first part of his answer. "Of course I think I can win it this year." Y/n rolled her eyes, masking her irritation as best as she could. "Well you have won it twice in an immensely talented grid, I believe you could." Fernando smirked. "Well it's so lovely you agree with me. It seems fairly rare nowadays." He winked. "Thank you for the interview, Fernando. Good luck." She quickly said, her relief palpable. Fernabdo blew her kiss, annoying her as ever. "That's all the media for you today, Fernando. You can-" Fernando stopped listening to his media manager once he heard the unfamiliar sound of Y/n laughing. His head snapped around quickly, only to see his new teammate smiling and laughing with Y/n. She never smiled when she was interviewing him, what made Lewis so special? Their animated conversation and laughter stoked a pang of jealousy in Fernando.
Later on in the evening, Fernando sat in the McLaren hospitality, eating his dinner when he looked out the window to see Lewis and Y/n walking together once again laughing. Lewis stood at the door whilst Y/n simply spoke to him. Fernando looked around to see if there was a camera just on the off-chance that this was for a TV bit, but not a camera was jn sight. Fernando nudged his personal trainer, gaining his attention. "What's the deal with Y/n and Hamilton?" He asked, an edge to his voice. His trainer looked out before responding. "Ive heard they've been going on dates for a few months now. Seems like she's quite taken with him."
Fernando's jaw tightened. "I think so too." Fernando mumbled. His trainer arched a brow at the spaniard. "What?" Fernando shrugged. "Don't tell me you're jealous." Fernando scoffed. "Of course not. It's just-" He paused and nodded towards Lewis. "Him? I'd say she could do better." He laughed, eating a fork full of food. "Whatever puts your mind at ease, Nando." Fernando looked back over to the pair at the door and watched as they hugged. He slapped his fork down on the table and stood up. "Im going to the garage." Fernando announced, marching towards the door. The doors slid open and the cameras began flashing with the sudden departure of Fernando. Y/n didn't even look at him and that only irked him more. He walked straight into his side of the garage and lay against the back wall, looking out onto the pit-lane.
How was he this jealous of Lewis? He was a rookie. And besides, it wasn't like he actually had feelings for Y/n. She was just a journalist. He thought to himself for a moment and closed his eyes in defeat, cursing under his breath. He did like her. Now what?
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greenglowinspooks · 11 months
Text
(DCxDP) Drowning in formaldehyde (Pt. 1)
Tw: one instance of canon-typical violence (DC), vivisection mention
Will be crossposted to AO3 eventually
(Prologue) - (Pt. 2)
(Subscription post/masterlist)
Danny has been working for Mr. Cobblepot for over a month now.
The first few weeks he was in the Penguin’s company, he couldn’t do much of anything. Instead, Mr. Cobblepot made sure that he was well-rested and beginning to recover.
Danny cried a lot in the first week that he was there.
He cried when he ate for the first time in years; the GiW had kept him on IVs and a feeding tube, so they wouldn’t have to move him from his surgical table.
He cried when he was given his own room to stay in, when he was brought clothes to wear, when he was given a bodyguard to protect him.
He cried when Mr. Cobblepot’s doctors told him that the damage to his vocal chords was likely permanent, and that he would never sound the same again. That he would find it hard to speak at any volume above a whisper.
Apparently, he had a lot more damage to him than he had thought.
The doctors said that the scarring in his brain stem suggested his entire brain had been removed and had regrown. Danny couldn’t really disprove that, and it did line up with a pretty substantial gap in his memory, but if that was the case then why couldn’t his voice recover too?
The scarring and incredibly new tissue that showed up in scans of several other parts of his body suggested that the GiW had done the same thing with most of his organs, as well as a few limbs, and all of the fingers on his right hand.
Danny could remember that. He just didn’t want to.
Perhaps it was the feeling of pity that kept Mr. Cobblepot so understanding of Danny’s slow recovery. That didn’t really matter much, though; Danny’s energy was focused on keeping his place here, ensuring that Mr. Cobblepot didn’t decide he was no longer worth the effort.
As it turned out, there was an easy enough solution to that.
Danny was the only one who knew how to properly operate and modify the weapons and inventions stolen from the GiW.
And so, Danny had a niche he could occupy. He could be useful, useful enough that Mr. Cobblepot couldn’t get rid of him, even if he wanted to.
And, as it turns out, Danny remembered quite a lot of the theories he heard while he was on the cutting board.
As soon as he had enough muscle control of his arms to do so, he was working away at the machinery created by the GiW and his parents.
No, not his parents.
Doctors Madeleine and Jack Fenton.
Regardless of their creators, he was able to understand them quite intimately.
Maybe it was because the ectoplasm flowing through the weaponry was his own, maybe it was because he had nothing to listen to for three years other than the excited chatter of his vivisectionists as they cut him open. Maybe it was because they were both simple weaponry without a purpose.
Danny found working on the machines soothing in a way that nothing else was.
The smell of oil and grease, the sounds of mechanical clanking and metal joints squealing, the feeling of cold steel beneath his fingertips.
The first thing he did to the machines was replacing the paint, from shiny white to a matte black. That way, they were recognizable as his own modified creations.
It was only a bonus that he didn’t catch his reflection in the metal surfaces this way.
Still, his reflection was starting to become more familiar to him. It was still strangely off-putting to see, but his face was beginning to plump out from consistent eating, and his skin was beginning to lose its unhealthy pale tone, going back to a more natural pinkish color.
His eyes still looked devoid of life, but that could be ignored as long as he didn’t look at himself for too long.
Danny sighed, leaning back in his chair as he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. He was working on modifying the ectoblasters so that they could properly hit humans, as per Mr. Cobblepot’s orders.
He probably should feel some sort of moral conflict over it, but really, Danny couldn’t find it in him to care. Maybe it was some sort of deep internal flaw, or maybe it was because he knew that they wouldn’t be shot at anyone without blood on their hands. Either way, he didn’t have any qualms with what he was doing.
As Danny reconnected the circuitry within the gun, the indicator lights on the side of the muzzle blinked to life, a familiar neon green.
Danny would have to change that color too, he thought. Maybe red would be nice instead, or an icy blue?
He was pulled from his thoughts by the door to his temporary workshop opening. Danny looked up, and smiled when he saw that his bodyguard was the one standing in the doorway.
The man, known only as Derringer, was 6’2”, built like a tank, and known for his love of unusual firearms. He was also a big fan of card games, and had been teaching Danny how to play Blackjack during their meals.
He gently closed the door behind him, strolling into the workshop.
Danny hopped out of his seat, hugging the man tightly. Derringer laughed, patting Danny on the back as he clung to him like a koala.
“Good to see you too, kid,” the man said, his deep voice rumbling in his chest, “you just about done in here?”
Danny nodded, letting go of the bodyguard. He picked up the gun on the desk, handing it to Derringer, and pointed to the target resting in the far corner of the room.
Derringer glanced down at Danny, shrugging before aiming the gun.
He pulled the trigger, and a large scorch mark appeared in the center of the target.
Derringer whistled appreciatively, walking over to inspect the damage.
There was a deep dent in the center of the metal target, around an inch in diameter, and a large scorch mark surrounding it. The metal of the dent was white-hot, and the area around it was somewhat warped.
“That’s real nice, kid,” Derringer said, “don’t know how you do it.”
Danny grinned, baring his teeth at the man. He smiled back, ruffling his hair.
“The boss is gonna go forward with the Arkham raid soon, so long as your guns are ready,” he said, “he’s eager to try them out for real. You think you’re up to talking to him?”
“Yes,” Danny signed, nodding to the man.
“Good,” Derringer signed back.
Mr. Cobblepot, not wanting Danny to be limited in his speech by the damage to his vocal chords, had ensured that all of the people who interacted with him knew at least the basics of ASL.
When he wasn’t working on the ectoblasters, Danny was practicing his ASL with a dedicated tutor, or with Derringer, who learned the language when his mother had gone deaf.
“Can I eat first?” Danny signed, “I forgot to.”
“You forgot, or you didn’t want to leave your work?” Derringer asked, signing as he spoke, the corners of his eyes crinkled with amusement, “and yeah, the boss wants to talk to you in thirty minutes. You’ve got plenty of time before then.”
“Thank you,” Danny signed, “let’s go.”
“Hey, just a sec,” Derringer said. His face had dropped into something unusually serious.
Danny nodded, tilting his head as he signed a quick “what’s wrong?”
“You’re a good kid. Even after what you’ve been through, you’re…you’re a really sweet kid,” Derringer said, looking away. “But you…you can’t keep being sweet to everyone. You gotta act tough, alright?”
“Why?”
“You just…” Derringer sighed, combing a hand through his thick, curly hair, “a lot of the guys think that you’re too weak to be here. They’re calling you the Penguin’s pet project, and the problem is that they’re not really wrong. You gotta be scarier to survive, alright? Gotham’ll eat you alive if you don’t. Just make up a persona and roll with it.”
Danny nodded slowly, processing his words for a moment.
“Like a mask?”
Derringer laughed, a bittersweet smile on his face.
“Yeah, like a mask. Just don’t start fighting crime while you’re at it.”
“Okay,” Danny signed, his movements slow. “I can do that.”
“Good on you, kid,” Derringer said, ruffling his hair once more, “now let’s go get lunch.”
The two of them ate quickly, Danny’s mind on Derringer’s advice the entire time.
He was right, and Danny knew it. He’d seen the way that some of Mr. Cobblepot’s men had looked at him.
He wasn’t anywhere near big enough to pull off the looming intimidating look that Derringer did; his doctors back in Amity had told him that he would grow to be over six foot, but his time in the GiW seemed to have stunted his growth significantly. He was only around 5’6”, and it seemed that he was going to stay that way.
In the same way, he wasn’t nearly frightening looking enough to pull off the terrifying stares of the smaller individuals working under Mr. Cobblepot. He just couldn’t get the glare right; his face would always fall back to a blank, dead stare.
Though, maybe if he played into that…
A few minutes before they had to leave, Danny excused himself to go to the restroom. He stared into the mirror, looking into his cold, dead eyes, and let his face drop.
When he adjusted his stance, and kept his eyes a bit wider than usual, he looked downright unnerving.
Danny had already noticed that most of his mannerisms were…unusual, after his stay at the GiW base. Put simply, he had forgotten what it was like to be a human.
He had noticed that most of the people around him would avoid being in his presence, and had begun mirroring their body language as much as he could to seem more normal.
Maybe, though, it would be better for him not to.
He could lean into the whole thing. An unstable young adult, experimented on by the government for years.
Danny looked into the mirror, and wide, icy eyes stared back at him.
Danny left the restroom. Derringer turned to greet him, jolting when he did. After a moment, he nodded.
“That what we’re going with?”
“Yes. Is it good?”
“Yeah. Freaky. Gonna take some getting used to, but yeah. Now,” he said, getting up from his spot at the break room table, “let’s go see the boss.”
Danny felt anxiety bubbling up in his chest, his entire body beginning to twitch. If Mr. Cobblepot didn’t approve of the weaponry, or if he thought they were underwhelming, would he be thrown out? Would he be tortured again, or killed?
Danny shivered when they came to a stop in front of the door to Mr. Cobblepot’s office. Failure wasn’t an option. He had to make sure this went well.
“You’ll do great, kid,” Derringer whispered, pushing the door open.
Mr. Cobblepot had been talking with a few other people, but their conversation died out when Danny and Derringer entered the room. Danny’s skin crawled.
“Ah, Danny! Just the person I wanted to see,” Mr. Cobblepot said, a large smile on his face, “Do you have one of your guns with you?”
“Yes,” Danny signed, nodding.
“Wonderful. I was just telling my associates here about your work. Do you mind giving a demonstration?”
“Where should I shoot? Do you have a target?”
Derringer was quick to translate. Mr. Cobblepot nodded, gesturing for a hired hand in the corner of the room to pull out a small wooden board, holding it up in the air.
Danny paled. He would definitely burn the man’s hands if he hit the target, even if he aimed for the furthest corner of the board.
Still, he was more terrified of disappointing Mr. Cobblepot than he was empathetic towards the man, so he drew a blaster from the holster on his leg and aimed carefully.
The blast hit the center of the board. The man holding it howled in pain, dropping the target and drawing his hand close to his chest. The nauseating smell of burning flesh filled the room.
Danny breathed shakily, in and out.
Mr. Cobblepot, for what it was worth, looked like he couldn’t possibly be happier. He and the others inspected the board on the ground closely, ignoring the hired hand as he ran out of the room, still cradling his damaged hand.
A large hole had been blown into the board, and a good portion of it had been incinerated.
“Look at that, ladies and gentlemen! I told you that Danny would deliver, and deliver he did! Imagine if that had been a person instead! Danny, what would you say would happen?”
Danny paused, trying to wince when he realized that the question wasn’t hypothetical, and Mr. Cobblepot actually wanted an answer.
“It would give them S-E-V-E-R-E burns,” Danny finger spelled the word that he didn’t know the proper sign for, “mostly S-U-R-F-A-C-E. It can’t P-E-I-R-C-E, because there is no bullet, just energy.”
Derringer translated for him.
Mr. Cobblepot frowned, and Danny frantically continued, “but it can be L-E-T-H-A-L! Burns on the head kill fast. Burns on the body make S-H-O-C-K, and kill. Strong I-M-P-A-C-T, too.”
“So they do still kill, just not instantly?”
“Yes,” Danny signed, “they’re fast. They hurt bad. Bad way to die, hurts a lot.”
“Well,” one of the other men in the room piped up, “I guess he’s not completely hopeless.”
“Of course he isn’t,” Mr. Cobblepot replied, fixing a terrifying glare onto the man, “it was my idea to bring him in, after all.”
“Danny,” Mr. Cobblepot said, turning his attention back to him, “we’re going to be collaborating with these fine individuals in the future. I’m going to need twenty guns ready for use in a week. You can handle that, can’t you?”
Danny nodded frantically.
“What kind?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Mr. Cobblepot said, waving his hand dismissively, “semi-automatic is preferable, but handguns and shotguns also work. Just make sure they work perfectly.”
The room was silent for a moment.
“Well, that’s all. You can leave now, and I’ll finish discussing the details with my associates.”
Danny nodded, signing him a quick “thank you, goodbye,” and slipped out of the room alongside Derringer.
They made their way back to Danny’s workshop in silence. Once they were inside, Derringer heaved a heavy sigh, running his fingers through his hair.
“You really think you can make that many guns that quickly, kid?”
“Yes,” Danny replied, “but I need your help.”
Derringer groaned, a smile on his face.
“Of course you’re putting me to work. I should’ve expected it. Now, what do you need me to do?”
“Well, first, hold this…”
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forsworned · 5 months
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NO PICTURES, PLEASE ft. DAVID 'HESH' WALKER
Author's note: dedicated to all the Hesh fans out there, this is a hard send lol
Warning(s): Fluffy fluff, Slightly Sexually Suggestive, AFAB!Reader
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Keegan is having difficulty rifling through the photos on the notably expensive Sony A7R IV that he purchased for you to capture pictures of No Man's Land when he sent you out on a surveying mission. It was imperative to conduct a reconnaissance of the area for environmental assessment purposes. The Sergeant had previously expressed how vital it was to gather data that was relevant for any potential future infrastructure development, disaster response, and management following the ODIN incident. Sounded simple enough. And yet, Keegan is left puzzled by the initial fifty images out of a whooping two hundred and fifty that is starting to show a discernable trend. They're all images of Hesh.
Now, this wouldn't be such an issue if they were the images that he had specifically requested you to take on said mission. But it was practically a full-blown photoshoot of pure pretty boy.
"[Name]." Keegan pinches the bridge of his nose as he takes a deep breath before he continues.
Your lips curve into a charming smile. "Hmm?"
"Can you tell me what is wrong with these photos?" He points the screen of the camera in your direction.
You lower your head to get a good gander of what he was referring to: Hesh standing in perfect golden hour lighting that seldomly peaks over the horizon and paints him a pretty shade of tangerine. He looks ethereal, and your smile only grows.
"Mmm, I think they're perfect. Follows the rule of thirds. See." You point to how Hesh is not perfectly centered.
For a moment, Keegan's eye twitches and he can't decide whether he wants to slap the absolute shit out of you for insubordination or for your sheer lack of regard for what he was asking of you. It is blatantly obvious to him (and the other Ghosts) that you have a raging crush on Hesh, though to be fair Hesh was completely oblivious to it. Nonetheless, it is absolutely infuriating when you choose not to follow orders and, instead do a candid imaging session of your Lieutenant.
"That's—kid," Keegan breathes out. He's weighing out his options. Keegan isn't the type to yell at a woman, but he's almost provoked to do so. He chooses not to engage in a manner that will upset you, so coddling it is.
"Hm?" You peer up at him with cutesy, puppy eyes and fortunately for you, his gaze softens and it's easier not to be so enraged by the situation.
"Ya gotta crush on Hesh or somethin'?"
Your smile falters and you feel the heat sidling to your cheeks and ears when those words fall out of his mouth, and he has to stifle the laughter that's threatening to erupt from his chest.
Your eyes dart to the ground as you awkwardly shift your weight. "Um, what gave you that idea?"
He's studying the way you nervously rub your arm and he almost feels bad for asking.
Another exhale. "Nothin', kid. I was just messin' around is all." He hands you back the camera and gives you a knowing look.
"I'm willing to overlook this if you take this seriously." His voice has a bit of an edge to it. You glance up at him and nod with a pout. "Go round up Hesh and update him on the mission. You'll need another go around."
Your face lights up and you begin to dial up Hesh's number to notify him.
"And one more thing," Keegan calls out to you and you hear Hesh pick up. His voice like the purest heroine, but you have to rip your attention away to listen to your experienced Serg.
"No photoshoots"
You grin and give him a thumbs up as you jovially skip away. In all earnest, you did not hear what he said. You are too enraptured by your crush's voice to listen to what Keegan is yapping about, and part of him is aware of that. So as a precaution, he may or may not have warned Hesh ahead of time about your recon mission to keep you in line.
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"No pictures, please!"
Hesh giggles, raising his hand to conceal his face from the camera pointed in his direction.
"Aw, just one! We already wrapped up what we needed to!" You maneuver the lens to capture his dimpled grin that melts your heart. But Hesh is not giving in. He's under strict orders not to permit you to take pictures unrelated to your assigned objective. However, your infectious laugh and the adoring gaze from those pretty eyes of yours are proving to be quite the distraction.
He halts his actions, contemplating whether he should just allow you to have your way. After all, you did complete the necessary task, so maybe one photo wouldn't hurt?
"Alright, just one." He chuckles, giving in to your ridiculous demand. But he's already being prompted to model on the large boulder bolstered against a blossoming weeping willow. The view behind him overlooks a glimmering lake, teeming with wildlife in the afternoon sun.
And Hesh is like a Disney princess. Cottontail rabbits approach him at his ankles and a hummingbird lands on his shoulder as if it's a rest stop. It's a picture-perfect moment as you snap away at his gleaming smile that beautifies his already handsome face. It's taking you all your willpower to not rush at him and shower him with all your affection.
A small huff leaves your lips as you store the camera back in its original weatherproof pouch. You think that it's probably for the best if you both start to head back to base, and notify Keegan of a successful mission to avoid any unnecessary reprimanding. As you zip up the storage bag and absentmindedly make your way toward Hesh who is preoccupied with feeding his leftover trail mix to a black squirrel, your balance seems to waver and you're crashing down face first. Luckily, Hesh secures you in his taut arms, but he's fumbling with his own equilibrium and completely loses his composure, leading you to collapse into the shallow end of the lake in a raucous splash.
The water is quick to sodden your uniforms, and you're pressed up against Hesh's rigid and saturated body. You meet his gaze and he's gawking up at you with flushed cheeks and reaming eyes. You imagine that your expression had a certain likeness.
"I'm so sorry..." Your eyes glaze over his soaking white shirt that's now giving you a pretty good view of his herculean torso. And you honest to God hadn't meant to memorize every delicious carving of his toned midsection, but it was right there.
And Hesh is by no means innocent either. His wandering emerald eyes are just as guilty as yours. Instead of your usual, mundane tactical brassiere, you're sporting a baby blue lacey bra, an oversight that transpired because you were too engrossed in hurrying off to your one-on-one mission with Hesh. And when your dilated gazes meet, your stomachs do a little flip that have you clamoring to get up.
You wordlessly extend your hand to him, and he accepts it without hesitation, responding with a polite yet quiet "thank you." Water trickles down your drenched forms and the silence is deafening. That is until Hesh bursts into a fit of laughter. He's carding his fingers through his dark, moistened locks and shaking with mirth. The type of joy that's contagious as hell, and you have no choice but to join him.
A zephyr sweeps past you and it sends a chill up your spine, and your nipples are poking through your sheen shirt. Hesh is rushing out of the shoal of the lake to grab his (thankfully) dry tactical jacket to envelop your shivering body. It's warm and smells just like him. Spicy vanilla, patchouli, and warm amber waft into your senses. Your breath hitches when you feel the pad of his thumb brush the apple of your cheek, perching the loose strands of hair that cling close to your eye behind your ear.
Your wet lashes flutter up to him and he absently licks his lips. His viridian hues train on you as you shyly conceal your abashed features. He chuckles at your coquettish behavior, caressing your cheek, feeling the peach fuzz stand up straight as gooseberries line your skin.
His body inclines toward you and you feel his heart stammering against your chest, meeting the stuttering pace of your own. His other hand is on the small of your back, pulling you closer as he captures your chin between his fingers and tilts it upwards.
"Viking-Actual, what's your location?"
The cacophony of his radio startles you both, shaking you out of your lovestruck daze. There's a look of annoyance that flashes over his features as he presses and holds the push-to-talk button and speaks:
"This is Viking-Actual, we're wrapping up our current operations and RTB. Over."
There's a brief silence before Merrick's voice is heard again.
"Request location update, not status. Over."
Hesh rolls his eyes so hard that they might just come out of their sockets. Your teeth latch into your lip as your shoulders jostle in hilarity. His expression is priceless, but it quickly shifts into a grin knowing that at the very least he can entertain you.
He sighs before notifying him of your location and it's met with another silence to which Hesh takes that as a sign to continue what he was doing before he was interrupted. But the moment that your lips almost graze, the static of the radio returns and he can't help but snicker at the ridiculous timing.
"Copy that. RTB ASAP. Over."
You're giggling under the propped-up collar of his jacket and it's starting to redden the blush on his cheeks. He's getting trepidatious at this point. The tension feels palpable and he's almost deterred from kissing you now.
But like the goddamn soldier he is, he pushes through and he's leaning in once more. Not even the stupid clatter of the radio can stop his lips from finally meeting yours. It's a gentle kiss. Soft, pillowy flesh that presses sweetly against your own and your body is warming up, relishing in his natural musk and the toastiness emanating from his body.
Your arms curl around his dampened waist as you breathe one another in. It's electrifying feeling him against you like this and there's a pyre that's slowly burning down below, but he withdraws too soon. The corners of your mouth draw out into giddy smiles. It's a gratifying feeling. Reciprocation.
"Should probably get back to base soon." He studies how you tuck your lips in, swiping at them with your tongue in an overly elated manner that causes him to giggle again.
"Uh huh." Is all you can muster up and it incites another round of glee. And Hesh can't help himself from cupping your cheeks and bringing you into another kiss. Your heart is soaring as your lips collide and you easily find a rhythm that makes you feel like your bodies are melding together.
Unbeknownst to the two of you, another pair of idiots lurk in a set of tall shrubs about 50 meters out, snooping on your little makeout sesh.
"You think they can see us from here?" Merrick asks his quiet Serg, as he peers through his binoculars.
"Nah." Keegan replies, popping a piece of granola into his mouth and sets his optics down. He pats his counterpart on the shoulder. "Let's head back."
Merrick raises a brow at him. "You don't wanna tell 'em to come back?"
Keegan smiles as he packs his things and slings his sniper over his shoulder. "Let 'em be. We can give 'em hell for it later."
And just that sentence alone thrills the Captain as they tread back to base leaving the nescient, impassioned couple behind. Never a boring day back in the Ghosts HQ.
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mini heshhivemind tag list: @keegansshark @milkteaarttime @soapsgf @blacktacmopsi @howtotwirlaknife22 @kun3ho141
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the end , that's me after writing this^
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goomyloid · 1 month
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What was your process for making the Noelle amv, if you don't mind sharing?
hii! im not sure how eloquently or clearly ill be able to explain it but i definitely have some pictures you can look at!
(the video)
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i actually got the idea while i was away on a trip with very limited wifi -- it wasn't Trust Me that i got an AMV idea for first, but instead it was one of 4syu's other songs, There's Nobody. for such a happy sounding song it really made me so sad, to the point where if i tried to sing it to myself id get choked up by the chorus LMAO. it was baddd
but basically i was rapidly trying to find both songs on spotify so i could listen to them offline, and it only took me a few loops of Trust Me and thinking about the original MV to make me go "ohhhh. how can i make this about noelle." And so i did .
i was thinking about doing a storyboard, but in the past, i've found that doing storyboards for animations/AMVs lowkey... kills my motivation altogether... SAD... but i saw the whole video so clearly in my head, and i didnt want to make the same mistake i made before... so i went right to doing quick sketches (while still on my trip...) just so i could get the ideas out of my head
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i was torn on what to do with my style at the time, whether i wanted to make it more similar to the original video, or to her canon appearance, or to MY style and how i draw her. i think it kind of ended up as an amalgamation of all three...? at the very least, her light world color palette definitely was more bland and desaturated, like i purposefully wasn't trying to do anything special with her colors.
after that point, and getting maybe a few of the actual drawings done, my motivation crashed again, and i left it all to marinate for nearly a week. it was baking, guys, it wasn't abandoned, listen to me, why are you throwing tomatoes at me,
i had up to about the "I dreamed about that again" animation done and stopped, and it wasn't until i decided to sit down and start editing it anyway that i really got in my groove again. i got all my little assets into a workable state so i could really try to sit down and make the video come to life and all
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the really fun part was honestly working on the desktop backgrounds. i really wanted to limit colorpicking from the original video as much as possible, but i decided that making look as similar as possible to the original could help with the contrast i wanted to add later.
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i drew these two backgrounds first. i was hoping i could somehow fit the bunker into the second one, but decided to do something different anyway. the second one's ui didn't actually change until later in the editing process.
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drawing THESE were fun especially, and im happy with how they came out. i think the dark world icons are really cute still. one thing i really did know i wanted to do from the beginning was to turn the soul/undertale icon into the deltarune one.
i was worried if the shift from the Windows Field Background to the dark world would be too sudden, like you would just blink and suddenly it was all different, but i think it ended up all right...?
the not so fun part was drawing all the different boxes, lmao. it go really tedious by the end, so i tried to reuse as many of the same ones as i could.
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a lot of copy-pasting and tracing rectangles for sure.
i also had to make sure the animations didnt Suck. i brute forced those things and used every last braincell i had in order to make those pictures move bros
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fun fact. ive never animated hair like this before. or in any complex manner really. i had to use sooo much brain here... heres how it started vs. how it ended up
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had my animator gf hype me up thru the whole thing... i was having a great time based on the filenames alone
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aaaand then ummmm i edited it. i learned after effects like 1 month ago. never touched it before. i learned it for internship purposes and then used my newfound powers for evil it seems
i split the whole thing up into multiple compositions of course, but i probably could have split things up more... im sorry for having 84 layers on comp 3 its not my fault
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editing a video in 12 fps was a fun change though -- very easy for my brain to go frame-by-frame, and yet still some of the timing ended up being off... tis the goomy way
like i said before, i started editing when i barely had half the drawings done, but seeing it all start to be in motion really pushed me to finish it up. and i mean Really. like i finished the whole thing maybe 48 hours after i first started editing.
and...i think that's it? i do a lot of discord art streaming to friends lately but i kinda kept this one more under wraps compared to usual, i think i just wanted to surprise everyone... look guys i remembered how to make a video! and it's three minutes! waow
sorry if this is way more than you asked for LMAO
also, the AMV hit 5k views on youtube today! ive never had a video do well like that so quickly! thank you!!
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